Valentine Soiree

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

Welcome ! Welcome! The Time has come and I'm sooooo glad that you could make it to my little Valentine soiree.



If you would like to come in and sit for just a quick minute , I'll be with you in a jif.

I'm just finishing up hiding all the little envelopes for the Mr. Tee hee. I've inserted a little rhyming clue into each of the wee envelopes that I'd made a couple weeks ago. Now he has to go find his treats. I think I might stump him on at least one clue. Tee hee.

But anyway, I will join you back here in mere moments. I first must find my pearls. A girl without her pearls at an event like this is an almost unthinkable circumstance.

I'm back. Oh I see that you've met my little friend. He's looking a glum right now , but just wait till later. What I know , that he doesn't know , is that his sweetheart will be joining us a bit later. She had things to attend to "across the pond" , but has made it a point of coming home to surprise him on this festive day.

Well, this little "love bird" has been patiently waiting for you. He was hoping that you'd stop by , if only for a few minutes.


I just got word that another friend has just "blown the coop" and will be joining us as well. She doesn't get out often, but she's dressed for this occasion and ready to party.

Can't you begin to feel the anticipation? Friends, like yourself, are arriving and the atmosphere is getting lively. Don't you just LOVE Valentine's Day ? !


So , please grab a cup. There's plenty of tea .

Oh, but , that's right, there is punch as well. Mmmmmmmm. Everything is looking so good. Help yourself.

Oh do you see that devilishly good-looking gentleman over there? He's unattached at the moment (though it's hard to understand why. Not only is he good-looking but SUCH a GENTLEman. ). I do believe that he likes something a wee bit stronger than punch. Maybe you would like to take one of these glasses over to him and introduce yourself.

Ah. Here is our guest of honor !! Welcome. Surely wherever he is , Love springs eternal. Yes indeed, today is the day for honoring LOVE, of whatever flavor one chooses---platonic, romantic, passionate, familial, whatever. Let's raise a glass. And drink to LOVE.

I'm thinking that if you don't get on over to the table, you might not get one of the delicious cupcakes. What dreamy confectionery perfection ! Oops. I guess I've given myself away. I have to admit that I just HAD to sample one before my guests arrived. All in the name of quality control, of course. No truly. And it was only one !

Oh , you say you have to go ? Well I'm sooooo glad that you could stop by for a bit. Before you leave , be sure to take along a rose. I hand picked them just for this celebration. Maybe you should take another to give to a special friend. Do be sure to have a WONDERFUL Valentine's Day and thanks so much for coming.

With Love, Cyth

Stop and Smell the Roses

cough, cough.....cough...cough,cough,cough,cough...gasp........cough. Blasted "congestion" turned into a tsunami of unending noseblowing, coughing, gasping, rasping,tearing.. My sides ache from coughing,my throat is raw from coughing and there no amount of honey that's gonna soothe this. I think only time will heal this.

I'm actually feeling a bit better today. Yee haa. Can't get out of my own way, but at least I'm up and trying to dance. Cough---ouch. I'm usually down with the kids on Tuesdays, but I just couldn't do it this week. Probably won't make it tomorrow either. ------ I'll miss our Valentine's celebration. Ah well, LOVE is good any time of the year, wouldn't you say.

I always find it interesting that when I'm feeling sick, even when if on the mend , that all my perceptions, reactions, thoughts, pretty much everything,.........excuse me, chest-racking COUGH.............. s-l-o-w way down. On the one hand , I find that I'm surely not the brightest star in the sky , but on the other hand , I seem to notice nuances that usually go unseen,or at best relegated to unimportant. But , when ailing, it's as if everything is in slow motion and I can see details more thoroughly .

I was looking out the window yesterday as I lay in bed, and watched the bluejays pilfer all the seed from the bird feeder. And the color of the jays feathers were a blue to rival the color of the sky. The transition of the blue to an area of gray or white was more pronounced. Even the squawk of one bluejay to another was more piercing. It's really quite amazing. Does it sound weird to feel grateful for being sick, when one's senses are pleasurably heightened? I can tell you that I would not wish ill health on myself, or anyone, just for this sensation. But maybe I can be more mindful when I am in otherwise good health.

Enough. I am mending. And I am grateful for that.

Did you notice that despite being SICK , I was able to appreciate the MOON, full and glorious. I really wasn't up to running outside , but I did catch it through the bedroom window. Blessed be. Need I say more?

Good health to you all....and remember to stop and smell the roses,

Cyth

My Valentine Tree

Oh yeah, don't forget that Valentine's day is almost here. Remember someone ,perhaps Yourself, with love.

Just a quick hello. I sure hope that your week has gone well. Myself ? Been fighting a bit of congestion in the head and chest. Kind of like walking through an Oregon fog ----sometimes it moves out , then before you know it it's full blown climatological soup. Me thinks the Winter has stayed over long. But according to Punxsatawney Phil , Spring will not arrive for 6 more weeks-----well I guess now it's just a little bit more than 5 weeks Yee HAAA ! Can't come soon enough---cough, cough.

Hate to say ------ naw, not really------ I was drawing the curtains again this evening against the cold (only suppose to go to the single digits tonight -- a relief from the below 0's that we've been having up here in the Northeast ) and what to my surprised eyes did I spy? YES. Another glorious moon , filling but not full,and gently sprinkled all around it , spangly stars, like freckles on a a fresh young face. Yes , indeed, I'm always delighted by the sight of the moon, in all of its stages , phases & moods. It shines but remains cloaked in a deep indigo blanket. It's light, sufficient tonight, to glint across the heaps of snow , giving a shadowy depth to the night landscape . It's great and ageless mysteries beckon to be explored. It IS magic to me.

Isn't it wonderful how magic can touch us, sometimes even sneak up on us ? And sometimes when it does, it moves the world just a little toward goodness and joy. Let me introduce..... a young girl , pretty , smart, AND a little high-strung. And to this picture , I'll add a younger brother, good-natured, easy going and adoring of the older sis, who most of the time suffers him loudly. Now add to the mix a hurried and harried morning--- Quick kids , out the door, into the car, can't be late for school. On go the jackets and the hats and the mittens and the boots , but WAIT . "WHERE is my scarf?" yells Sis, as if she were two rooms away , not 3 feet from us. And the mad scurry begins. Into the bedroom---nope, not there. Check the mitten tree----nope , not there. "NO .I Can't wear THAT one , it's too short." All the while, Little Brother is calmly watching the maelstrom around him, unflustered by the noise and the commotion brought on by The Typhoon Terrorist. Faintly in the background can heard the weary voice ( and it's only 8:30 a.m. ) of authority warning of dire consequences of being late. Still Sis is running and complaining.

Then,as suddenly as it began, the storm who is Sis, comes to an abrupt halt. Looking from the bright red scarf upon the mitten tree to Brother, and with sugar in her voice thick enough to gag, she plaintively asks Little Brother if she could wear his scarf. HERE COMES THE MAGIC. Unflinching and unflustered, with calm in his voice and a glint of hope in his eye, he answers simply , "You can take my scarf- for a kiss." Time stood still for a split second. She acquiesced. And the world for one young lass and one little brother was again in balance.

I wish that these eyes that had witnessed those few moments of chaos and resolution could adequately describe what had passed between those two. Gratitude , understanding, caring and love in a child-size dose FILLED the room in a way that only spontaneous emotion can. And for that split second, I'd wished that I could have opened the door and let it fill the air. I wish that the skies could have carried it 'round the world , dropping bits of compassion and love like fairy dust, settling into the dark crevices of our meanest human character. THIS WAS MAGIC.

Addendum....... Later that day Little Brother confided to me ,that earlier in the week , he had made a request of dad -I don't recall the specifics of that request,; no doubt something of great importance to the little guy . In return for fulfilling this request , Dad asked only for... a little kiss. This little guy, it seems , learned well. Small magic, big yield.

I send you wishes for small magic to replace your chaotic moments, Cyth

Off to the Races

Yes, it was off to the races today. Sled dog races ,that is. The Mr. talked me into donning my finest Winter-wear ( don't even get me started about that ) and heading out to watch the dogs run. Well, I figured , the white stuff is going to be around for a while , no point in fighting it . So began my 30 minute ordeal of searching in the all the darkest corners of the house for the ski pants , the fashion-forward hat, the gloves AND mittens so that my normally cold digits don't develop frostbite. Where did I put my new boots? They're NEW. How far away could they get? Ah. There they are. Camera? Check. Tea for warming later? Check. A last look at the thermometer---- 20 degrees. Hey, that's not so bad. I've got a stand-up collar on my jacket, forget the scarf.

Well 20 degrees is a heck of a lot different than 20 degrees and a fierce wind blowing down the mountain and across the frozen lake ( could have been the tundra for all the warmth in it ). Wish I brought the scarf.

Arriving at the lake, one of my local favorites, we had to park W-A-Y back , and so had to walk a wee bit of a distance. Not bad; started the circulation , which I would be needing anyway. Couldn't see the dogs, but man, could you hear them. As if I weren't ambivalent enough about tethering these poor creatures to each other and a sled carrying a man, their barking, baying, whimpering, howling sent shivers down me. It sounded like a mass canine execution. And I began to ponder the necessity for this sport. Yadda, yadda, do we really need to subject these noble animals, man's best friend, to shackles for our entertainment? So began my inner tirade. Fortunately , the icy wind drove a little finger into me and arrested the next thought about to spring forward.

So I relaxed a bit , looked around, ignored the yaps from the dogs and tried to take in and understand from another point of view. And what I came to see was that the barks and noises coming from the animals was excitement and anticipation. Truly. I watched them . They were barely able to contain themselves;in fact it took 2 or 3 people to do so. As it was being announced when each new team was to take off ( and I mean TAKE OFF ! ) , they would have a countdown. By the time the announcer was on 5 ( seconds left to go ) the dogs were howling MADLY , leaping into the air , gulping snow, as if on drugs. They hit " go" and like a whip the team was off and the only sound was the swoosh of the sled as it sped by. Like night and day.

You can see the look of utter intent in the eyes of these dogs. It's almost scary. Their ice blue eyes seem only to see the open lake, to reflect their need for the snow crunching beneath their paws as they speed through the course. This is what they were born for, for what they have trained. They do , I now believe, live for this. And now I wonder; if they were taken away from this, to comply , with what I initially thought would be only humane, what of them then? Like most of us... we've trained for something - teaching, mothering, doctoring, dancing, writing, singing...you name it. Or maybe through our hobbies, crafts, sports, we have trained , prepared, andyearned to work at something that compels us, that fulfills us, that helps us understand ourselves better, gives expression to our desires and needs. What now, if it were taken away?

What if that fulfilling work can no longer be ours? We begin to lose our compass, our internal compass that gives us direction , even meaning in our lives.

I've now begun to wonder; what would become of these dogs ,if dog-sledding were to be taken away , by well-meaning humanitarians, like myself ? Their need to run would still be there. If not able to do that, how could they express those internal energies? Who would I be without the means to express my internal energies ?

Ah, I'm into this way too deeply. Suffice it to say, I've come away with a renewed perspective.

And that may just be the most important lesson.

I'll tell ya. These little kids didn't barrage themselves with questions , no sir. When they got cold and races were at a standstill, they made themselves a little snowblind and hunkered right down in -- no icy wind for them, no debating the fairness of mans use of man's best friend , just a simple answer to to their immediate need. I like that. Simplicity.

I'd say that it turned out to be a rather nice day at the races.

Good evening,

Cyth

Snowflakes And Paperlace

So I do believe that when I last stopped by to share a bit with you, I was rapturously ranting about Snow White, and I don't mean the folklore damsel. I believe that I was awestruck by the beauty of the winter scene outside my window. And indeed, it was beautiful....and inspiring. I've got pages added to my Shop Journal with regard to a White Nook planned for the shop. But I gotta tell ya, I'm tiring of the schlepping through snow & slush. Wednesday's storm ( 11 more inches ) nudged me just a little too close to the edge. The white, when it's not coatedwith dirt and sand from the plowing, is still sparkling and refreshing, yes. But the gray overcast sky has continued to threaten even more , though only a few stray flakes fall. It is the overhanging threat that has got me teetering.
But Valentine's day is nearly on our doorstep. This is not a good time to plummet to the depths of Winter Madness; not yet. So with the snow flying around me without and the Valentine anticipation whirling around within , I HAD to spend some time today

melding these diverse emotions. Yes, I'm afraid to admit, but admit I will, that I retreated to my childhood winter pasttime of cutting paper snowflakes. But wait , I added a spin to it. As you might have noticed in the picture above, I cut HEARTS into the folded paper......and cut and cut and cut. When I finished, what I beheld were beautiful samples of Paper Lace. ( Well these were just my "try-me's"). I've now got plans for more exacting, more intricate designs. ( I was so excited that I'd turned my mood around , I even managed to try making some bread pudding. And it turned out pretty well, considering I hate to cook. And such COMFORT in some warm bread pudding! Yee Haa ! Feeling much better---at least for tonight ).

Above is the paper that I'd begun with. It is actually a photocopy of a piece of scrapbook paper , lightened so that my writing wouldn't have to compete for attention . I then proceeded to spend the next hour "practicing" my calligraphy by writing out the lyrics to the old Marvin Gaye/Tammy Terrell song , Precious Love ( "Heaven must have sent your precious love..."). Of course, appropriate words for a Valentine. (Could be something for The Mr.). Then with a bit of tea by my side I started the requisite cutting, folding, cutting, cutting, cutting. Yeah, it was just momentarily scary thinking about cutting up an hour's worth of calligraphy, but as my teacher Nancy Culmone ; ( a wee sample of her work : ) always told us , " Nothing is ever lost.". So I cut and cut and cut some more. and when I finished that , I began to wonder what would happen if I cut first , on plain paper, THEN added words and embellishment. Ta Da. This was my next "try-me".

OOOO. So much more I can do ! Just wait till I get out all my pens and papers, glitter?,anything ooey, gooey, hearty, Valentine-y........... I'll stop here and spare those of you who are less enthusiastic about this great celebration. I'm sure there is at least one, but for the life of me I can't understand.

So now I'm thinking that they'd be terrific scanned into the computer and printed out to make notecards, HEY ,maybe even Valentine cards. Whaddya think?

Wishing you a LOVEly evening.

Cyth

Cyth

Must Be a Blue Moon

Okay, I know I said that I wouldn't talk about the moon -at least for another month-but I just can't help myself. The Moon calls to me. ( As an aside-- I do believe that my name derives from the Goddess Diana, who is the Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon. Coincidence? Fate? More fairy tales? ). I've tried all week to ignore my compulsion to share this moon stuff. Finally I just decided , what the heck, why fight myself about it. So here is another moon.

Seriously, I awakened at my usual early hour the morning after the snow and was compelled to open the shade. And there she was in her crescent glory. What a glorious morning this was to be , with that silver sliver just hanging there, the spruce looking as though it would reach up to caress it. And look at those laden branches; snow, piles of white, light, puffy snow.

And there , you see, the Spruce has nearly captured the Moon. I'm sure he just wants to give it a little hug, for surely it is a good thing to greet the day with a hug, and to send the Moon to bed with a friendly little hug.

As the sun rose and light trickled ever so stealthily, the view outside looked like a marshmallow and powdered sugar world. how could this be anything but a glorious day!?

But as you'll see, the Moon has her own ways , conspiring with the morning sky .

Going

Going

Gone.

And so the day had begun. I had my eye full of moon shenanigans and marshmallow mounds. There could not have been a more auspicious beginning.

Here I am this Sunday. The beginning of a new week. Though I've had enough of snow, no matter how beautiful to the eye, I wish for another exhilarating start---for me , for you.

Enjoy and blessings,

Cyth

White on White

Well that title just makes me want to break out in song..." White on white , lace on satin,....my little baby's ...." but I guess that dates me a little. Okay, yes, I am THAT old. Now that I've confessed, I'd like to tell you what I'm really thinking about.

Another snowfall today. And Focus and Inspiration.

It's a gentle, consistent snowfall that is accumulating nicely, like a froth of white frosting on a wedding cake. Everything is muted by the the falling snow. Sounds are muffled, vision muted as if a scrim were dropped, suggesting of objects in the distance without clear vision of them ; only a layering with furthest objects dimly silhouetted, nearer ones a more visible gray outline.

Winters are like this around here. White and white and more white. Bright white when the sun finally shines. Then again muted white with the next snow. Sometimes it can be a wet white. It can be lacy, as it drifts on to the tree branches. Sparkly white if it has melted and refrozen.So many permutations. But it takes focus to appreciate it.

Most winters I just moan and fuss that Winter seems endless, the snow a nuisance, the cold , bitter. But I determined this year to accept it with at least a modicum of good grace. And I have been rewarded. I have determined that to "weather" the Winter I should try to embrace it, be with it. And what has quietly unfolded for me has been the beauty, sometimes a peace in this white , wintry blanket. And Inspiration.

The inspiration did, however, need a little nudge. That nudge came for me in the form a a wee gift from a friend. Knowing that I am also a calligrapher, she'd picked up a copy of Victoria Magazine for me , as there is in it tributes to the writing arts. But much within the covers of the magazine is a tribute to white, or as the cover states, "Winter White Magic". Page after page is filled with white; white adornments, accessories, bits of whimsy , luxury and comforts.

I'm usually attracted by color, all kinds of color, bright to muted. White usually leaves me cold. But it is as though there is a conspiracy of late to involve me in a white frame of mind. The variations of whites , from stark to warm, to off-white to muted neutrals is now stimulating. Textures and patterns, whether in lacy bed linens or frosted windows are suddenly energizing to me.

And where will this inspiration take me. Well I thought about white on white Valentines ( the purity of Love , and all that ) , but I'm just a sucker for red, pink , hot pink for that celebration, I set that idea aside ( though I may revisit it later). No, I thought that I would plan a CORNER of my shop in white. I can envision it now, white wicker, a swag of white flowers illuminated by tiny little lights, maybe some white paper lanterns, a parasol in white ,perhaps a small writing desk ( I've got one just awaiting my decision as to what color to paint it- I think I've just decided) a mother-of-pearl handled letter opener, an off white throw, maybe a photo or two I've taken this winter---ooooooh this list could just go on and on. ( Incidently, featured in the magazine is a shop called White Flowers that is ENTIRELY white. That might be just a bit much for me. But it looks absolutely ethereal in the magazine. One could imagine angels dropping by to purchase a new pair of wings in a shop like that. )

And though my shop is just a "summer season" shop, white in summer can be even more compelling , when the heat of the day and the pavement begs for relief. I am reminded of Childe Hassam's paintings, often strongly white in hue. And whether he is depicting summer or winter, they can offer a sweet frosting-like envelope with which to surround oneself.

I must be on my way now. Thanks for dropping by. I'll leave with this little quote and an armful of white wishes, Cyth

"White ... is not a mere absence of colour; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black.... God paints in many colours; but He never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white."
--Gilbert Keith Chesterton [British author, 1874–1936] “A Piece of Chalk,” Tremendous Trifles (1909)