Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Snippets of my life...

The nippy breezes of end of November have blown away the remainder of the golden leaves, but the ornamental pear is still wearing crimsoned tones—exquisite garments of silent kings and watchers of the garden. I am standing in the core of time; dancing amidst seasons and hoping that autumn will linger yet a little longer…

I’m craving the vivid colors of summer; the happy yellows of sunshiny days. So I have added some touches of yellow to the bedroom’s white palette.

…and I was remembering that a summer or two ago I had a pink cake with pink frosting on my table…

The thought of it has stirred in me the desire to bake—bake in the colors of summer pastels, although I know I should really be thinking of autumn and winter and pumpkin pies and breads and Christmas pecan pies, but I can't help it....

Are you the types that like to bake according to seasons and traditions?—like the usual apple pie in the summer and the pecan or chocolate-peppermint pie for Christmas? Or do you bake according to your heart’s content? I really don’t mind a pretty cake with cascades of yummy pink frosting on my Christmas table… weird, I know… but ever so lovely... like colorful tutus.

Cakes in pastels; like cotton candy pinks and sea foam greens and baby blues and the soft purples of fluff tulle tutus are on my mind…
Some of you had asked about our trip to Florida a few weeks ago… it was a special trip that I should add to my chest of most treasured memories, as we traveled with our daughter and her family to introduce little Averi to the rest of the gang…

I'm so madly in love with this incredibly adorable sweeter-than-sweet most divine dearest little darling... I am I am!!

…and spent precious time with mom and dad, and dear Lissette by the ocean and the rhythmic soothing sound of waves gently crashing against the shoreline—cherished precious moments that I wish I could gather with my hands; like jewels, and keep in some sorts of magical chest where they’d be kept safe for evermore.

The days are visibly shorter around here now. By the time I get home from work it is already dark and murky mornings are taking longer to awaken from their early winter slumber… I love this time of year and almost walk around the house in a silent reverie; thinking about life, thinking about how fortunate I am to be just where I am and be who I am… I move in some sorts of magical lethargy, turning a soothing light here, lighting some candles there, illuminating some shadowy corner of the house with dim lights of wee lamps. I like these early morning hours and the quietness that accompany them… they call for the strong Cuban coffee in my tiny yellow Cuban ceramic cups, and they call for some fluffy comfy pjs and reflective time in the settee out looking the sleepy garden.

Life might not be perfect but it is good. And I’m going down memory lane this evening through my collection of photographs… long after the flowers of spring and summer are gone, this garden is still blooming with treasured memories collected in snaps. I delight in going through them during the winter months when the weather keeps me inside and I get so impatient for the garden… a sweep of sweet Williams, roses, foxgloves, lupines and delphiniums marks memorable hours of passed delights as well as those to come… Oh do forgive me, I have so much to say; my soul is made out of words and I'm walking and dancing in languages and dialects made out of symbols and words… can I continue? ;)

Last evening I discovered a very interesting website and microblogging platform called Tumblr…have you heard about it before? Tumblr lets you effortlessly share anything. The interesting part is, people can post your photographs on their Tumblr page without your permission and you'll never get credit for it either. I almost fell over when I discovered the following photograph in at least 10 Tumblr blog with links to a number of unknown entities as the source; I even got a “Mrs. Robinson’s ghost” as source to this photographs... can you believe it? ;)

Well, I hope I haven't bored you... I promise I'll write less next time... for now, may you have the sweetest evening, and may you find your rainbow at the end of your dreams.

See you soon!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Life in the garden

The dragonflies have all disappeared from the garden by now. And so have the fairies. As you may well know, fairies like to fly with the dragonflies since they look so much alike and won't be discovered by people who don't believe in them… but no dragonflies have been in sight lately; not since the first winds began to blow cold air; anointing the garden with white frost-like icing sugar… but there have been definite signs that they’ve been here… A month or so ago I spied some very mysterious dragonfly fluttering around in the most curious and marvelous of patterns. Were they really dragonflies? I wonder...

On that very same day the fairies left me a branch of pussy willow. I was delighted. Then a few weeks ago they brought a very mysterious looking cat with them. A very special fairy whispered his name in my ear the other night: “Watcher”—she said… “Watcher is his name because he watches out in the garden keeping you safe.”

Now, how sweet is that? I truly love the name, I do! Thank YOU! I also want to thank those of you who also suggested all sorts of awesome names for the kitty.

The garden looks so changed these days. From vivid greens it turned to colors of golds and reds to muted yellows and grays… seasons certainly have its way of making all sorts of changes in the anatomy of things; and it feels as if I’m walking upon another time and another garden; still lovely in its own right and stillness, but somewhat strange and faraway from my heart.

Yesterday I discovered a curious thing in the garden; left by the fairies I suppose… So they've been here after all. Do you have any idea what that might mean? A teacup hanging from a tree branch? A tea party with the fairies, perhaps? That sounds delightful, doesn't it.

I’m going to close my eyes and ask the fairies in my garden for something truly special… an owl!

Owls fascinate me. Have I already told you that? And have I told you how I often dream of seeing one up close in real life some day? Yeah—“in real life”, because in dreams I see them all the time… And every day and every night I would close my eyes and make a wish upon a dream—that there will be an owl waiting for me out there; in the garden.

Of course, it would have to be in my garden for the magic to transpire. Any other place would lessen enchantment. It would not be the same. So I go out to the garden every day at dusk and hope and wait for “La Lechuza” to make presence… As the wind come rustling through the lasts of russet leaves I listen to the tree’s songs; and listen to what amber leaves sweeping down from trees bring and to that what they have to tell me. And thus, slowly, magic unfolds…

I am sure I can hear the mystical hoo-hooing of the owl being carried out by evening breezes. And there… over there, I can even detect a shape flap onto a branch in the nearly dark at the end of the garden. A bird with human-like, forward facing eyes and presence so fascinating I’m almost drawn to my knees.

I often wonder where these feelings arise from being that the owl was the anathema of my childhood—the phantom that marred the peace of my nights. Folks in our little pueblo believed the owl was an ill-omened bird; they were not really owls, but some evil spirits contained in the form of an owl. Owls were the souls of the dead crossing the night sky; witches prowling the night carrying children off. How strange the way fear is conquered as we grow in soul and years. And how the owl now invites me to peer into the dark as they can and they give me courage to accept and come to love all that I find there...

I can’t really tell what it exactly is—awe, amazement, pure enchantment perhaps?… whatever it is, the owl represent so much… their peaceful energy, the mystery they posses; posing as quiet mediators between the material and spiritual worlds; hiding some inexplicable message known only to themselves and perhaps to the shadows that nurture them.

To be truthful, I believe my admiration for these birds comes from fear more than anything else. Fear attracts; it pulls you to face it; to conquer it whilst waiting and hoping. And maybe that’s what it all is? Even so, I’m still waiting and dreaming of the day I’d see this magnificent bird sweeping off the floors of the garden in a mythical and mysterious swooping of wigs. I cannot think of anything more special or magical.

Do you have any tale of your own you'd like to share? Any strange, funny or curious occurrences in your own enchanted gardens or world? Do share.

Wishing you a magical week, whether shimmering with stardust or just your glowing selves!

Thursday, November 24, 2011


We’re often so taken up with the affairs of the present that we hardly have time to give thanks for blessings of the past. On this Thanksgivings day my heart is overflowing with gratitude and thankfulness for precious moments shared with dear family these past few days in Florida… I am grateful and blessed by so much, by so many, by so little too… grateful for all the little things! There are way too many of these to count!

I must also give thanks for you—the spectators of my life, the friends, the companions of my days... May you all be blessed with all things good... AND

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off your thighs!

~Author Unknown


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

This and that and out for a few days...

Have you noticed how I tend to change—how my style fluctuates with the changing of seasons? I have the tendency to get very literal and serious in the winter. Somehow my frame of mind does change. I’m more solemn in the winter than in any other time of year; incline to the somber if you may, less frivolous perhaps… daydreaming turns as cold as the weather would turn and you’d hear me talking about creepy things like death and funeral songs hanging from trees… really creepy indeed! ;) I guess it’s the chill in the air—it plays tricks with my moods… and I don’t like it… I just don’t like it a bit!

If there is one thing I really miss in the winter time is summer silliness—the natural childishness that springs forth when warm weather appears and the sun is out and balmy summer breezes would wrap you up in a magical spiral of butterflies and dreams and joy… when warm sunlight goes straight through my heart and deep into my soul… it’s absolutely delicious.

My philosophy is that it's okay to grow old, but don't ever grow up completely. Having a bit of the 'inner child' is a good thing. You can keep a light and happy perspective on things. Old of body, but always young of mind—I like to maintain the balance... it's a nice place, and I share it with every creature in my garden…

Talking of gardens… that reminds me that fairies arrive while you sleep to plant ideas in your imagination… when morning comes they would run to hide in the trees, but you can always find your fairies there—in your garden. I hope you do believe me because seeing the world through the wondrous eyes of children would certainly awaken the magic that lives in the present moment. Try believing with a child’s heart and you’ll know what I mean! That, and skipping, and hopping and bouncing. Yes, and dancing as if nobody is watching... and what that means is, put your fears of growing old aside and rejoice in the fact that we can finally be ourselves and not give a darn what anyone else thinks. Freedom… there’s certainly freedom there! ;) Freedom to wear just what you want… even if this means the most ridiculous of things—like my new leopard print tights more like ‘leprosy’ tights than ‘leopard’ because I do look I have some type of skin disease-like leprosy…. OK, maybe there are definitely times when my sense of style goes a little bit over the top… what was I thinking?
So I’ll opt for some zebra print tights… I have to admit I really really love these tights… I would wear them anywhere; even to the office!

Children have neither past nor future; they enjoy the present, which very few of us do. Thus… I want to get in touch with my inner child on a daily basis, never lose my zest for life, live the present, dress up, get silly, go to the garden and talk to flowers and trees, give new names to neighborly cats in my garden… (One of my favorite pastimes ever by the way) like that cat “Morning” that showed up here ever so mysteriously last year, or that other one “Feelings”… I usually name these feline friends in accordance to their personalities; which are so different from each other—like day and night… “Morning” the cat used to show up in my garden in the wee hours of morning, and thus the name, and with “Feelings” the cat, I had this feeling Feelings could read my mind and interpret my feelings… ;) I haven't decided what to name this little guy here yet... he looks kind of ghostly to me, and not too friendly, so I haven’t come up with a name yet… any suggestion?

I’m so happy you decided to stop by… I always get this giddy feeling whenever I see you smelling the roses, or catching rainbows while on your strolls through the gardens… have I told you lately how very special you all are to me—because YOU are! So I’m brewing some Fairytale tea tonight... I hope you can stay. And I hope you like my tea… Fairytale teas are my favorite… this blend of enchanting herbs would put you in the mood for strange stories and lovely fairytales. It’s a subtly intricate tea and I just love the deeply floral aroma and lovely ruby color. A favorite tea for sipping while in the garden or walking amongst the trees... tuning us into the subtle presence of the magic of the natural world. I’m just going to set a little tea party outside, in case you decide to come by… You see, I will be out for a few days—perhaps a week or so… so if you happen to stumble upon my door on your way to whatever corner of the world you’re headed to, make sure you pause for a moment, smell the roses and have some tea!
See you then!

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Show Off Your Cottage Monday

Comfort, the beauty of imperfection, the allure of time-worm objects, and the appeal of simple, practical living: Shabby Chic! And I love it all! So here is some shabby chic love!

(source Creative Mint)

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Of gardens and cats and some more

I want a cat… every autumn is the same; I look at the solitary garden and think of a cat. Gardens and cats go together; especially in autumn. Autumn is such a dreamy season… and then again, there is something about the presence of a cat in a garden… a wistful feeling—gardens and cats; certainly some sorts of quixotic mingling.

Then yesterday, in the garden… magic unfolded. Some mysterious kind of friend came to visit…

I should be very careful with what I wish to see in my garden… ah yes, it never fails; wishes are almost always granted here…

Cats are such mystical creatures... I can tell there’s more going in his mind than I'm aware of... I’m so enthralled by these graceful creatures…

And thus, I’ve been staring out the window a lot these days; cozying up in the warmth of the insides while standing silently by the window looking at the quiet garden…

Lemon grass, sweetgrass and sleepy Jacob’s Ladder, cat thyme, pansies and heaps of dried leaves unite; they blend and come together as Nature gently puts them to sleep.

And the wind in the trees is chanting a sad hymn; it bewitches me and brings to mind dying and death. I shiver as I listen to this song; each stanza suggesting finitude; it’s the song inherent to autumn… the year is slowly dying.

I’m also thinking of life. My thoughts are thick; falling fast from some parts of my brain like autumn leaves on trees. This sense of depletion, of things coming to an end goes beyond the metaphorical death. Autumn’s chant is my own requiem; it is yours, it is ultimately humanity’s funeral song.

The mind in kinsmanship with the Natural world has learned; however, that there are no closing states in Nature. All that lives must die, and yet the promise of tomorrow's life is contained in the seeds of today's death… this thought offers yet another verdict; the mundane fuses with the spiritual—the essential God-Creator arises in the conscientious soul; an ever ingenerable and imperishable God… fear perishes in this hope…

Death is not eternal.

PS: You can read more of my articles Here.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

My life...

The days are changing so fast around here; from one day to the next, it almost feels as if I had just woken up from a long sleep. It’s all to do with weather conditions. Climate has a magical wand in his hands and he uses it as he wishes; or so it seems.

It always amazes me this power Nature has to change things from one day to the next; and how leaves turn from plain green to vivid colors of gold and red from one hour to the other…

Only yesterday the garden was alive with heaps of freshly fallen leaves; like heaps of gold scattered under trees and grasses still so green and lush with moisture it made you want to walk on it and even dream on such downy greenery.

Then overnight came frost; tiptoeing the night it came… slowly, it crawled and crept into the garden making all sorts of changes in the anatomy of things.

By morning came the winds—cold and bitter. They huffed and they puffed all day long making trees and bushes to shake and drop all remaining foliage. It rained rivers of leaves all day; golden and crimson rivers of leaves swirled around making little spiraling currents like whirlpools. When I came home after work the back porch was filled with hundreds of leaves; large wrinkled leaves from the big grapevine covering it. And the fresh yellow small leaves from the two cherry trees upfront were stiff and dried; most of them gone in the wings of winds. The garden looked deserted and stingy without the leaves on the trees, and all the empty spaces. It was as if I was looking at some other trees and shrubs and some other garden; unkempt and shabbily chic.

So last evening I put in the trash the last of my summer roses—dull and spent, but still offering a last whiff of perfume. It was heartbreaking to think that I will not see these roses again for the next following seven months. Roses from my garden—how magical this sounds to me.

The grapes are going down fast too...

We’ve been juicing daily; being so healthy that it’s almost ridiculous. This juice alone is packed with carrots, beets, celery, spinach and apples for some sweetness. It has helped the amount of grapes we have had on hand—grapes from our organic garden so ripe and delicious...

There's still so much grapes out there, but it is already way too cold for me to collect...

I'm leaving the rest to the birds...

Another chapter of my life in the garden is closing; until the wheels of time would turn again to yet another year of delight in this little plot I call my heavens. As the outdoors grow colder, the indoors will be my hearth and heart and the cave where to weave new dreams and treasure every memory… and how dear these thoughts are to me.

(Before I say goodbye and close the garden gate)

That old April yearning
Once more is returning
And I have a longing to wander.
The leaves may be falling,
But April is calling
And the prim roses beckon me yonder.
For one more walk around the garden
One more memory I can dream upon
Until I dream no more.
For one more time perhaps the dawn will wait
And one more prayer it's not too late
To gather one more rose
Before I say goodbye and close the garden gate.