Best Friends

Little Belle asked me to change her identity to Moo because Belle is the name her Nanna uses online, so Moo, a nickname of hers, it is.
Moo has a friend whom she has known since before she was born, a girl we see every other weekend when she is with her Dad, and who I think we all consider to be pretty much one of us.
The two of them have one of those rare friendships where they just get each other and love each others company and live in their own happy, peaceful world together. They are always scheming about one thing or another, and announcing their newly concocted plans for world domination over dinner.



















Like the time they both wanted monkeys for pets and spent days dreaming up ways to make enough money, including starting a competition which charged five dollars entry fee, where you had to draw your pet as a rock star. Sadly, no-one entered, but that didn't stop them creating and then pinning the posters on all the electric poles for miles around. They had these great pictures of a hamster wielding an electric guitar on them.



















These two are great crafters, too. They spend a lot of their time together sewing, needle felting and painting, though most of their projects amount to more mess than finished product.
Um, I wonder where they get that from?



















Anyway, they spent this weekend curled up together on the sofa, toe to toe, crocheting. And nattering. These girls know how to craft. They made lots of tea, and worked late, and giggled. This morning they didn't come down for breakfast until after 9.



















And that's because they were finishing these gorgeous hats. Which they did every aspect of themselves.
So not only am I quite envious, but I am deeply impressed. Moo wore her hat all day, and sheer pride had a merry grin across her face all day. I know that feeling - ok, it's rare, but I do - and I'm so pleased that she does too.

A Little House in a Valley

If you went south from here down the highway about 20 minutes you would be able to watch dirty gray town slowly give way to farms and hollows where the mist sits on chill mornings.
At a certain state road you would take a left and immediately find yourself heading down a gentle valley road between trees in shades of gold, red and green. Soon you would start to see very old and quaint houses appearing here and there, with gardens full of mums, late zinnias and lavender.
By and by you would realize that you had come into a dear little town, and you would watch as antique stores, an old school house, an ice cream store and a bookstore passed your window.
At the bottom of the valley, in the middle of the town, you would slow to cross railway tracks and a wide swath of river, and then, by the white clapboard church, you would turn left and pull up in front of the first house from the corner.















If you were us, you would then be very happy and excited, because this lovely old farmhouse in the middle of a state forest in a sweet little town only twenty minutes from your kids Waldorf school, would be your new home.
















And so we are.

By the way, a million thanks for the general rallying around my plea for comments, even those who offended and were offended. Consider yourselves administrated.
It really gets exciting around here, doesn't it?

Woody

I'm in Barnes and Noble drinking decaf coffee, my new passion - I didn't drink any coffee for years because I don't handle the caffeine well (such a delicate creature) but all of a sudden I want it all the time. I guess passion will do that to you, and somehow you handle the side effects. Anyway, it's the strength of the flavor, I think. It's delicious, and I love how the flavour stays in your mouth and that last sip which is always sugary? Oh, mmmmm...
So I am sitting here happily breathing coffee breath while ominous clouds gather outside, and even though I should be working on a facet of my business plan that I have to show someone tomorrow, in true V. style I am instead working on showing what else I have been working on.



















This is Woody, my imaginitively named Woodkin, inspired by the artwork of Lauren Mills in the book 'Fairy Wings'. Her work in that book drives my creative heart into a little frenzy and every time I open it I have a surge of delight and inspiration. Not a lot of time though, so he is all I have managed so far. But I do have plans - big plans. As always.



















His face and body are needlefelted, his boots and tunic are wet felted and he has little bead buttons on his boots and embroidery as well as his buckeye hat. He's about 8" tall - a nice, substantial little handful of Woodkin.



















Here he is posing in the park where I like to walk in the mornings and listening to the birds.
And now I am off into the ominously darkening day to clean a house - but not my own, unfortunately.
Oh, and if you stop by here - leave a comment, will you please? I know you've been here, I have my sources, and yea, I lurk too, I do, so I understand how you feel. But I lurk on sites where people are getting 40 comments - they don't need mine. But I need yours, I do.
You know how to do it, right? Just hit the little link that says how many comments there are. Be anonymous if you like. But I need you. I. need. you. You.
Thanks.