Fantasy Thursday

Right behind my garden, way out past the hosta garden, by the creek that leads to the woods there's a place somewhere out there from which tales can be spun...

...Silly, fanciful, mysterious and creepy tales and fairytale dreams live there....  I remember the day I found this place...

Sweaty and parched after planting a new flowerbed, I walked over to the edge of the garden after a raven.  The raven flew into the woods, then waited for me perched on a stump.  Mesmerized by this creature, I followed him, but when I reached the stump where the raven waited, he spread his wings and — blink — vanished before my eyes... or so I thought.  

I was about to turn back to the garden when all of a sudden, overhead, a cackle was heard.  I looked up, and there he was, eyeing me from atop a privet tree!  The raven spread his wings and flew to another branch, always waiting, as if making sure I was following him... and this time I did followed him...   up the Golden Ragwort paths through the woods I followed him... 

Twisting this way here, going this way there...

Stomping and stumbling on twigs and fallen branches...

Bending this way 'round the wild Eglantine... 

The Sweet-briar and the Pasture Rose, common in thickets 'round here...

I kept walking, following the raven as he flew and waited and sang his crackled song atop the lower branches, always waiting for me, until I finally saw it... a shack beneath a twisted live oak tree all tangled up in wild roses... tall trees above me swayed gently with breezes and sunlit filtered brightly though the treetops, and beyond that... nothing but empty, leaden skies...

This was a bad omen, I thought.  And indeed it was!  But then, it was already too late... a faint cackle taunted me in the distance and I just knew right there and then I was standing on forbidden ground... what to do... oh what to do? Run, wait for the witch?  Perhaps wake up from a bad dream???

Your turn!!... I'd love to hear you continue the story... what did you see?  Where do you want to go?  Or do?  Where would our story end?  Please write on! Add a word, a sentence, or a paragraph in the comment box below. The catch is that you continue the story where the next person stops.  After someone goes first, we can each add to what they wrote and to the story, comment by comment.

It's a beautiful summer day around here and we'll be on our way to Florida early tomorrow morning for the 4th of July weekend...

Please continue.Let's have fun!

    

Freda Kahlo

I wanted to make some cheap and easy wall art for my Gypsy Room that I could make in under a half hour...  I already had the canvas, and I also had the black spray paint and the Mod Podge.  All I needed was to print off some images from the Internet.... and puff!  Here's what I came up with!

If you want to make something like this, here's what I did: First, spray-paint your canvas in whatever color you want from top to bottom (I chose black for a bold effect), and let dry completely.  Believe me when I say 'wait'... I was too impatient and glued away my images onto the still wet canvas, and what a big mess I made.  Wait, if you want to succeed.   

Because I wanted something artsy and bright that could stand out from the black background of the canvas, I chose some colorful Freda Kahlo's paintings (always check for copyrights before doing this though).  Printed out the imagges in a size smaller than the canvas, because I wanted the black paint to show, and used my scissors to cut it. 

When the canvas was completely dried I coated it in Mod Podge using a small round foam brush and centered the printable on it. I also put an extra coat of Mod Podge across the front of the canvas for a protective top coat.

Careful not to rip the image, smooth it out and let dry overnight...

Your art may look somewhat wrinkled immediately after you're done with it, but no worries.  The image will eventually set onto the canvas nicely as it dries overnight... 

I learned this by pure coincidence...  I was so disappointed after I was done gluing the image onto the canvas because of all the wrinkles, that I almost trashed them away... but what a nice surprise it was the following morning to see all the wrinkles gone and the canvas perfectly smoothed out!  

And that's all!

 Loving my Freda Kahlo's canvas...

LINKING TO:

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TUESDAYS AT OUR HOME
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TWEAK IT TUESDAY

Gypsy summer days

Oh hi there... where have you been?  I have been looking for you everywhere!  I thought you were coming over for some magical days... 

We've been busy entertaining some very dear people; old and young as well, while the little white cottage basks under hot, sunny days, happy, and full at all hours of day.

 Under the tall flowering pear trees behind the garden we parked the Gypsy Caravan.

...and decided to live there for a few days...

Two gypsy girls were seen 'round the gypsy camp... a lovely young gypsy girl named Jade, and that old gypsy woman Esmeralda.   Have you ever met someone for the first time, but in your heart you feel as if you’ve met them before?  That's what I thought ;) 

They were inseparable those two... the girl and the old woman... always together; playing, singing, collecting flowers and performing their gypsy dances and songs under the tall trees...

Once, or twice, they were seen chasing birds out of their gypsy trailer.  How those poor feathered creatures of the air found their way into their trailer no one could say... but then again, even birds have to love it in there, for although their gypsy trailer looked like a simple country wagon, inside it felt cozy and luxurious beyond belief!  And how lovely and mysterious the dark woods outside! 

The gypsy girl and the woman loved it there... outside their gypsy caravan, beyond the little garden... there where the grass grew long and deep, slept the fairies in the deep dark woods...  how enchanting!

It was nice playing there, and pretending we were topflight entertainers of the Orpheum theaters.  On one very special occasion, we even got a phone call from the very famous vaudeville impresario Gustav Walter, who just called to make sure we were getting ready for our show in the next hour...

The dusty hems of their bunched-up skirts, the worn straps of their nightgowns, the blackened soles of their bare feet... all this and the pungent air! Oh what lovely, lovely gypsy days...

...but the season is being hard upon our gypsy bodies, and the heat of summer merciless upon our flowery heads. Has it been this hot in your parts of the woods too?  My days are going by in less than a snap, it's crazy and it is so hot around here and so many many critters of the flying sorts making me go bonkers.... really, they must like me a whole lots!  How does one get rid of invisible biting bugs?

Oh I hope you're having some very extra lovely days yourselves... the little gypsy girl Jade and I have a very special gift to give you... from us, to you.... 

Blessings...

Summer in the South

Summer has definitely arrived to the South.  Heat waves shift and travel up the hill across our little white cottage like tiny happy ghosts.   I can hear them singing "There's Good Boos To-Night" as they move and dance and, one by one, dissolve behind the hill... 

The fireflies, too, have come out of their hiding places, and are enchanting our summer nights with their teeny lanterns and flying wish lights, as they scatter beams of light and joy and amazement beyond my dreams over grasses, and flowerbeds and all around our little world.

Every evening, when the moon comes out, you'd see them busily decorating trees and dark green boughs with twinkling clear lights, turning our summer nights into a real Christmas in June. We like to sit in our front porch, and quietly watch them decorating the night away, as they turn each tree and bush into translucent turquoise Christmas Trees.   What a lovely, enchanting place this is, and what an amazing sight those fireflies are in the shadows of the silent summer nights.  I almost want to run inside and bring out my homemade Christmas ornaments and brightly dyed popcorn garlands to add to this fanfare of lights and joyfulness.  

    This is what summer is all about at the little white cottage in the woods...

Oh I could say that there's more than just meets the eye 'around here, as you'd imagine.  I could say that I got bitten by a spider or some other type of awful critter the other day and have been sleeping over activated charcoal compresses for two consecutive nights.  I could say that I've been poisoned with poison ivy while cleaning the flowerbeds closest to the creek, which it is in fact as dried as the driest, crinkled patches of grasses that run along our little white cottage like some sad, old handkerchiefs, because the heat is to intense it is burning the land and everyone else in it.  

I could also say that the gardenia tree I've been nurturing for way too long, is doing so poorly I'm about to give up and throw it away, that some of my beautiful hostas have been losing their lovely leaves to some type of disease or fungus I haven't been able to identify, or figure out what to do, and, on top of that, our precious goldfish keep disappearing... being snatched away by some unidentified creepy creature that lurks in the night.  

Bugs, mosquitoes, chiggers and such are eating us alive and our walks through the gardens have been comprised to only short trips in the early morning,  although, to be truthful, that is not completely accurate, because I still go out there at all times of day and even at night.  That's why I get bitten, poisoned, dehydrated and more.  But, not even the evil fairies, dwellers of the dark forest could ever stop me from keep doing so... and why would I dwell on such things and forget to look at all the glories we are surrounded by?  Cause, that's just how it is here in the South, and I won't complain because I can never forget how on those super cold days and freezing nights of the North I used to dream and wish for the South... every hour of the day and every hour of night... always dreaming with those hot, long summer days I now have.  Can we be completely happy one day?  With everything being perfect for just a day?  Well, this I believe...  a happy life is not a perfect life. Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means that you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.  And that's what I'll do, and hope you'll do too.

Oh, I had part of my hair braided up today and wanted to show you.  I'm so bad at braiding my hair, never been good at it, but this morning it turned out pretty good... me thinks... ;)

Wish I could have been able to take a pic of the back of my head to show you... well, maybe not... must probably, it looked really bad, but since I couldn't see it... hehe!

Ohhh and look at the shoes I found at our Goodwill the other day.... to die for!

And they were my size too!

Super cute, but I didn't get them...

Can't walk on those things any more~

I hope you had a lovely Saturday and a blessed day... 

See you super soon, because I cannot be away from this place for too long! ;)

Bye!

At home...

We got back home past mid-night, to a half moon illuminated little white cottage, and went to sleep right away...

In the morning, when I stood in our all-windowed dinning-room and looked at the all-encompassing, sun-kissed glories outside, I just knew where my heart really belonged...

The vision of a garden dotted in red and pink against the shadowy, mysterious background of the woods beyond, revealed that the Knockout roses had bloomed again while in our absence...

And were now gracefully gifting us with a bountiful second blooming season.  

And over all this lovely concoction of roses and woods, mystery and awe and loveliness beyond my imagination, a dozen wispy, little white butterflies fluttered all around with abandon, as if whispering secrets of freedom and of little joys to flowers and trees...  How very wonderful, and beautiful and enthralling and green, and marvelous my little world then looked...   

A gift of a world waiting for me right in my backyard...

At the pond I fed the goldfish and went onto cutting some of the gladiolus that my father and I had planted two years ago on the farthest beds, to filled glamorous vases.  

...and gathered some spent petals as keepsakes and tokens of affection and remembrance.

Later, in the afternoon, the sky turned dark and heavy with moisture.  A huge crow dived down across the opening in the woods, its black wings shiny in the dimness.  The air began to feel hot and heavy.  I went inside, sat in my little spot by the northern window, and waited for the promise of a downpour to transpire.  But it never rained and, the garden, beckoning me outside again, took me by the hand over to where the blushing beds of pink hydrangea had been waiting for me, and my Felco pruners,  since the end of a glorious May.

I filled the house with glorious pinks...

I have never seen such gorgeous color in all my days.  It is as if Vincent van Gogh himself had raised his bright, colored spirit this way and painted his finest painting all down the flowered beds.  But then again, a mortal's hand can never execute anything as lovely, and pleasing in a delicate, gentle, and glorious way as the works of the Greatest Artist of all time.... for only You could, oh Father...

I am humbled and thankful for all the little things which, put together, constitute my life in a wider sense.  My heart subsist on its knees, and I am a little butterfly fluttering about God's flowing, merciful graces.

I won't think too much, or dwell too much on things I cannot change, for if I chose to think too much or too hard on the appalling events that are transpiring around our world, and especially in our country on these sad days of lost lives, my soul will wither like a flower past its seasons.  I'm choosing pretty images to dwell on... a spring garden erupting with blossoming ivory gardenias and dahlias the color of a dragon’s fire. Antique horse figurines. Strawberry stains on your lips. The smell of fresh grass rolling over sand dunes lining the edge of a trembling sea, blackberry and elderflower cake topped with dusty rose colored icing and lilac blossoms. Antique ballet slippers.  Scarlet colored bows made out of satin. The glowing heart of a soft fire. Whispering winter wind tickling iridescent snowflake covered glass. The Nutcracker...

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