December 26, 2011

Whassup Buttercup?

It's a cookies-for-breakfast-pajamas-'til-noon-silence-is-golden kinda day here.

Are you in a food induced coma while basking in the glow of Christmas Past 
or have you resumed your normal daily activities as if nothing happened kinda Peep?

Do tell.  I'm on a need to know basis here.

Thank you.

However this finds you today I hope you are warm, happy, well fed and loved.

And nothing less.


December 24, 2011

My Christmas wish for you my friend
Is not a simple one
For I wish you hope and joy and peace
Days filled with warmth and sun

I wish you love and friendship too
Throughout the coming year
Lots of laughter and happiness
To fill your world with cheer

May you count your blessings one by one
And when totaled by the lot
May you find all you've been given
To be more than what you sought

May your journeys be short, your burdens light
May your spirit never grow old
May all your clouds have silver linings
And your rainbows pots of gold

I wish this all and so much more
May all your dreams come true
May you have a Merry Christmas friend
And a happy New Year too 


December 9, 2011

You can be happy tomorrow.

You can be happy when you get through your list of things to do.

You can be happy when you meet the one.

You can be happy when you get the right job.

You can be happy when you get the raise.

You can be happy when you stop buying the things you need and start buying the things you want. 

You can be happy when you retire. 

You can be happy when the weather suits you. 

You can be happy on a plane. 

You can be happy in the rain. 

Or you can stop reading this, take a deep breath, and be happy right now.


December 4, 2011

“No Mama”, she said quietly.

I looked at her and asked, “What is it dear?”

“My face.  It’s wrong.”

I responded, “your face is beautiful, if I say so myself.  I stitched you beautiful faded red lips, eyes that speak of kindness and a tiny pinched nose, what could I have done better?”

She sighed deeply and replied, “my face is beautiful but it isn’t fitting for a heart and body such as mine.  Look at me, I am aged, worn and torn.  My fingers have been nibbled my mice and my lovely old dress is tattered and stained.  I thank you for giving me such a lovely face, really I do, but this isn’t how I wish to look.”

She added, “I am humble and I want my face to reflect that.”

I had felt beaten down by the creation of this doll.  It seemed everything I wanted for her was met with apprehension and discontent. 

I wanted Angel’s wings.  “Oh please no!” she responded to that thought.

I then wanted a Halo for her head.  “No, I am not an Angel” she said.

I wished for her to hang, say from an interior door or a cupboard door even.  “I wish to sit thank you”, she said.

I asked, “Would you like to hold a dog or a cat or a wreath of Sweet Annie maybe?”

She shook her head and looked me square in the eyes and said, “No Mama, I just wish to be.  Just be.”

It was then that I understood.

I left her alone for the night upstairs on my work table.  I felt as if I had finally got it and now it was up to me to remedy what was tormenting her so.

The next morning I returned and told her of my plan to give her a new face.  The process would not be simple as she is constructed from an old and very fragile cotton quilt backing, it would all have to be reconstructed but the final outcome would be the faintest, sweetest pencil drawn features that would reflect the simplicity that she longed for.  That is her.  With that I got to work.

When all was said and done, she sighed a deep sigh of relief.  She was pleased.

Now she dreams of a place to belong and someone to love her.

Little does she know that the latter of her dream has already come true.

She is available here.

Blessings, tj

December 1, 2011

December the first.

The menfolk are sleeping in.

Dirty laundry is being executed.

Our hearts and souls are being warmed by the fire.

Fall decor is making way for Winter greenery.

And this is my ear worm today. *smile*

"While snow the window-panes bedim,
The fire curls up a sunny charm,
Where, creaming o'er the pitcher's rim,
The flowering ale is set to warm;
Mirth, full of joy as summer bees,
Sits there, its pleasures to impart,
And children, 'tween their parent's knees,
Sing scraps of carols o'er by heart."  
-John Clare, "December"


"To those of you who commented and emailed your well wishes and prayers regarding my husband's illness and the loss of our sweet Maggy, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Sincerely, I do."

Blessings, tj
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