I had a Pumpkin Spice Latte today. Under an oak tree dropping acorns, with a dear friend, and wearing plaid. Then we went to a used book store and an English garden covered in vines. It was misty and dark, and our hearts were filled with warmth. September is one of my favorite months.
I didn’t used to love September. School and darkness and the loss of green used to make me heartsick. But a few years ago I was making an upside down apple pie, Oliver was kicking in my tummy, and I looked outside at the changing leaves and I thought for the very first time in my life, “I like fall!” It’s been a world of discovery ever since. And now I idealize it just a bit….
Private school girl outfit!
Ok maybe a lot.
Now that little baby Oliver is about to start kindergarten, and before he has a chance to hate this month for the impending homework, he is pointing things out to me that cheer me up on dark days.
“Look at that spider web! It’s covered with rain drops!” (Dew)
“Mama! I haven’t had tea in a very long time!” A child after my own heart!
Joey’s Mapleside (where I imagine I am in Avonlea) and the pumpkin she’s growing for our doorstep).
I am loving a new mystery book Joey introduced to me about a girl named Flavia De Luce called The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. It’s an appropriate name for the way I feel about this season. It was, after all, the sweetness at the bottom of my apple pie that gave me my first romantic feelings for September! (Though I have a suspicion that in the book that sweetness will have something to do with poison. Let’s hope the analogy ends there).
(a painting I think I did during that first September.)
Whether it be mystery novels, a new cozy rain coat, the inaugural fire in the fireplace, a pumpkin spice latte, or a leaf changing in an aurora of brilliant colors…my you find sweetness this September.
Call them what you like. Ghost chairs, crystal chairs, invisible, plastic…I love them. I first saw these in vintage form, two crystal looking angular chairs at Land of Nod. I was ecstatic! Invisible chairs! Diamond chairs! They’re so shiny and pretty! Like something from an ice castle! I wanted to buy them, but was told they were not for sale. They were floor models, but I was given the name of a place in Italy that sold them for $300. Boo. Then Beau tried to buy what he thought I was describing for our anniversary, and it was the wrong chair. THEN I found this one for $55 at a consignment shop just down the road. Oh Ravenna, you do delight.
I’ve needed something that would work in this little slot since we moved in. A place to sit, but something that didn’t get in the way of the flow of the large, segmented room. I’m in love!
The End. Sources are in this pinterest file: https://www.pinterest.com/bridgetbeth/ghost-chairs/
A year ago I was missing the salty air and glittering reflection of the sea. I asked my mom if she would snap of pic of the sunset each night and send it to me so I could imagine myself there. She said she would.
And she did.
Thank you, Mama. This was true love for your daughter. Please don’t ever stop!
I am a firm believer in journaling as a form of self therapy. From a very early age I was questioning the world and myself on the pages of a spiral notebook. I remember distinctly the first time I could feel the answers flowing through my own pen. Was it the voice of God, my own psyche, or just my brain organizing my thoughts and flowing forth wisdom? I can’t really tell you. But I do know that journaling always helps me find balance. About four years ago I read a book called The Artist’s Way. To simplify it, it is a guided journey into your desires. Through little tasks set out for each week, spending time alone with your inner artist, using mantras and self encouragement, and journaling three pages every morning, the book helps you find your calling as a creator. Since completing The Artists Way I have written a book, become best friends with a writers group I cannot imagine my life without, started Flora Forager, and signed a book deal with Sasquatch Books…for a journal! It’s all come back around, and I am so thrilled to be creating what will hopefully be a catalyst for those seeking their own inner voice. People can make it a prayer book, make it a forager field guide, use it to press flowers, or simply write their morning pages. I am so happy to be giving my heart and soul for something I truly believe in. The journal will feature nine new scenes and approximately twenty-four new animals. I can’t share any of it online, but I’ll try to give as many sneak peeks as possible!
Last night I asked my Flora Forager followers what they call Dandelions gone to seed, and if they have any traditions with them.
I could not have *wished* for a better response. People from over 30 countries gave me their names and childhood memories!
Children the world over have been spreading those lovely fairy seeds across the continents for generations. Wishes and dreams in every language have floated on the wind over every sea. It was a beautiful conversation to read, and lovely imagery to fall asleep to. Magic. One person said they had never seen a Dandelion before and it made me so grateful for all those multitudes of weeds growing in my grass. A new beautiful perspective!
Fuzzy gray tufts froth around me,
Silver moon, violet sky.
Dark scatters of branches jumble with cold stars,
I breathe crystal air and sharp shadows,
Ice shards cut and ache.
Brilliant sparkles scatter through the silver,
Soft mist, yellow light,
Heat radiates slowly from the pink horizon,
I breathe deeply of honeyed air,
The shards melt and dew clings to my cobwebbed caverns.
I, like persephone,
eat my jeweled seeds,
And plunge into darkness for a time,
But Demeter waits for me in her flowered Spring,
And I once again take up the light and beauty that is mine.