The Bookish Kind

Woodland Cathedral

2012-02-01T00:50:00.001-06:00

Woodland Cathedral by Patience Strong

Go into the woodland
If you seek peace of mind
As this time when Nature's mood
is gentle, quiet and kind,
When soft winds fan the trembling leaves
about the cloistered glade--
And paths go winding deep into the green
and breathless shade.

Where nothing breaks the silence
of the warm and fragrant air--
But snatches of sweet melody . . .
and wings that rend and tear--
The stillness of the windless dells
where shallow brooklets flow--
And shadows fleck the water
as the sunbeams come and go.

An unseen Presence walks the woods,
a sense of holy things--
Haunts the dim Cathedral aisles;
and every bird that sings--
Is like some morning chorister,
and every breath of air--
Seems to bring the secret murmur
of a whispered prayer.

Bookish Kinds

2012-01-21T13:09:00.000-06:00

For all you bookish kinds out there - this is a book or journal bandolier. It attaches to a book or journal and cleverly holds my pencils and pens keeping them handy when I need them, which is great because typically they are nought to be found when I really need them.

Photo by Clever Hands

You won't regret having one of these creations around.

Lovely, Dark, and Deep

2012-01-19T00:38:00.000-06:00

This fall and winter has been really unusual weather-wise. We have hardly had any snow to speak of yet, the ground is eerily green-ish when it should have a foot of snow on it. I am not complaining, in fact, I think I could almost entirely live without snow. While I am not ready to move to Florida quite yet, the thought of a year without snow is very appealing!

There is a storm coming tonight, and continuing through the end of the week that should bring up to 20 feet of whiteness to the mountains. Let it come to the mountains and stay in the mountains. Bring on the valley rain.

In honor of winter finally arriving...,

Photo from BluePueblo.tumblr.com

Which brings up this favorite gathering of words...,

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

~~Robert Frost

Which almost makes me want the white stuff to stick. That "stillness" of winter is so delicious, the "easy wind and downy flake" so fleeting and elusive, the "deepness" of the quiet wood so refreshing and still that you could hear the fairies if they were about. Lovely, dark, and deep can be just what one needs sometimes.

Poetry Chapbook

2012-01-17T00:25:00.003-06:00

This blog was started just over two years ago, and honestly it was hard those first few weeks to hit the publish button, knowing my words would be out there for anyone to see. In the two years since then, I have learned a lot.

For one thing, I have something to say and am not afraid to have it be seen anymore. I write because I must, it is an outlet for me. My pen is my keyboard and sometimes the thoughts flow fast and sometimes they are stilled. This quote comes to mind,

There are thousands of thoughts lying within a man

that he does not know till he takes up the pen and writes.
~ William Makepeace Thackeray

My poetry chapbook of poems and thoughts taken from this blog, written about the beauty of the natural world I adore so much, is very simple, but it means a lot to me. It is tangible, something people can hold in their hands, if they want to. It's a small collection of bouquets from my garden of thought.

Love of nature is apparent in this little volume of poems and selections, inspired by and captivated by the many beauties we see in the natural world, I continue to be influenced by nature..."God's brushstroke," as I have called it.

"In these moments,

I am a beautiful bird,

Made for nothing more than

Ascending to the heights,

Where currents await me.

Joy."

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There are two ways to purchase.

My etsy store

Click on the Paypal button

(says "Donate")

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Henry Meets Victoria

2012-01-15T01:35:00.000-06:00

Here is where Henry meets Victoria

I so want one of these!

A white and dreamy, woodsy retreat with a little comfort added in for good measure.

Not to mention beauty, which is everywhere.

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread,

places to play in and pray in,

where nature may heal

and give strength to body and soul.

~John Muir

Photo credit ( NY Times / Trevor Tondro)

Source (http://tinyhouseblog.com/)

The Woods Above the World

2012-01-11T22:59:00.001-06:00

The Woods Above the World. I really wish I had written that line. When I heard it, I knew I wanted to read it. It being an ebook. I am about halfway through and am loving it! It revolves around an imaginative wooded world that touches on Keats and Shakespeare and which has all kinds of unique storylines and characters. You can get on on Kindle or Amazon Kindle in seconds. Why wouldn't you read it?

White Dress

2012-01-08T02:09:00.000-06:00

I do love a good white dress!

Of course, I always think of Shalott in regards to white dresses.

Or maybe this?

But here is one for keeps!

Definitely the heroine-type!

Beauty Never Hurt Anyone

2012-01-02T19:52:00.003-06:00

(Source: Interior Alchemy, buddhainteriors)

Bringing a little beauty to the January table.

Because a little beauty never hurt anyone.

Wouldn't you love to have this as your garden gate!
It's not too early to think of gardens, they are yet stirring.

Boxing Day

2011-12-26T01:43:00.001-06:00

Happy Boxing Day!

Mary Christ-mas

2011-12-22T21:38:00.000-06:00

Remember
This December,
That love weighs more than gold.
~Josephine Dodge Daskam Bacon

The Doorbell Rang ... A True Story

2011-12-21T23:17:00.001-06:00

The doorbell rang,

From my blue chair I sprang,

Nobody was there,
Or so it was made to appear.

Then suddenly from around the corner,

Came a truck full of hearty young carolers.

It hadn't been a Christmas trick,

But a warning bell,

From the carolers to tell.

They came and they went so quick,

Singing about good old St Nick.

As they trailed out of sight,

Into the freezing December night,

I thanked them silently,

For the Christmas cheer they brought to me.

Merry Christmas, every one!

The Other Emily

2011-12-19T09:40:00.000-06:00


Silhouette of Emily Bronte, by Elizabeth Baverstock

Emily Bronte died on this date in 1848. Her bones lay cold and still, silent and restless in her grave, but I am sure her spirit soars and frequents the moorland she loved so much. Of all the Bronte sister's dispositions and temperaments, I am most like Emily. She is like a kindred sister to me. I think it no coincidence that the other Emily, also a kindred of mine, shared the same name, too.

A DAY DREAM
by: Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

N a sunny brae alone I lay One summer afternoon; It was the marriage-time of May, With her young lover, June.

From her mother's heart seemed loath to part That queen of bridal charms, But her father smiled on the fairest child He ever held in his arms.

The trees did wave their plumy crests, The glad birds carolled clear; And I, of all the wedding guests, Was only sullen there!

There was not one, but wished to shun My aspect void of cheer; The very gray rocks, looking on, Asked, "What do you here?"

And I could utter no reply; In sooth, I did not know Why I had brought a clouded eye To greet the general glow.

So, resting on a heathy bank, I took my heart to me; And we together sadly sank Into a reverie.

We thought, "When winter comes again, Where will these bright things be? All vanished, like a vision vain, An unreal mockery!

"The birds that now so blithely sing, Through deserts, frozen dry, Poor spectres of the perished spring, In famished troops will fly.

"And why should we be glad at all? The leaf is hardly green, Before a token of its fall Is on the surface seen!"

Now, whether it were really so, I never could be sure; But as in fit of peevish woe, I stretched me on the moor,

A thousand thousand gleaming fires Seemed kindling in the air; A thousand thousand silvery lyres Resounded far and near:

Methought, the very breath I breathed Was full of sparks divine, And all my heather-couch was wreathed By that celestial shine!

And, while the wide earth echoing rung To that strange minstrelsy The little glittering spirits sung, Or seemed to sing, to me:

"O mortal! mortal! let them die; Let time and tears destroy, That we may overflow the sky With universal joy!

"Let grief distract the sufferer's breast, And night obscure his way; They hasten him to endless rest, And everlasting day.

"To thee the world is like a tomb, A desert's naked shore; To us, in unimagined bloom, It brightens more and more!

"And, could we lift the veil, and give One brief glimpse to thine eye, Thou wouldst rejoice for those that live, BECAUSE they live to die."

The music ceased; the noonday dream, Like dream of night, withdrew; But Fancy, still, will sometimes deem Her fond creation true.

It's Emily's Birthday

2011-12-10T00:58:00.001-06:00

Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.

- Emily Dickinson

The Fruits of Winter

2011-12-03T01:17:00.002-06:00

Like any good season, winter's got it's high points, and here is one of them. Ruby red nuggets, not quite bitter and not quite sweet.

One of the things born in December near to my heart. ~~Bookishkind

Ruins

2011-11-30T13:43:00.000-06:00

it is in the ruins~

where sorrow overtakes joy,
flaws become exposed,

learning replaces ignorance,
lessons are learned,

forgiveness stands,

walls are rebuilt,

and finally you can flee the broken remains
when the light shines through.

A Bird in the Tree

2011-11-26T01:24:00.002-06:00

Today the wind picked up as there is a storm coming overnight. The leaves on this tree that had been holding out on letting go, were swept up, blowing every which way. You couldn't tell if they were birds or leaves. Then in an unexpected moment, I caught this bird in the tree and for a moment you couldn't tell if it were bird or leaf.

A bird in a tree...

With this as my inspiration, I am determined to obtain a bird watching book to learn about the winter birds who keep my company all the winter through. Here he is again moments after he left the rest of the tree branch.

Meanwhile, the neighbors got to flying a kite in the strong March-like winds.

With all the winged creatures about, I fully expected the faeries to show up next. But I had to be happy with what I got. I was.

Bless Your Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T02:50:00.001-06:00

Call Me Old Fashioned

2011-11-23T10:54:00.001-06:00

In celebration of Thanksgiving, here is a movie version of Louisa May Alcott's, "Old Fashioned Thanksgiving." Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving Prayer

I raise my cup to fall, to blessings given one and all.
The harvest bounty laid, before eyes and hands bent in Grace.
~Bookish Kind

London Fog

2011-11-20T19:58:00.001-06:00

Do not adjust your computer screen, just enjoy the view.

Pie in the Sky

2011-11-16T23:57:00.000-06:00

No pie in the sky tonight, just velvet.

At least that's what it looked like...,

A big velvet carpet spread out on a section of sky as the sun set.

My oh my, how lovely the sky.

Bronte Weather Blog

2011-11-12T11:35:00.003-06:00

Bronte geeks, take note - this Bronte weather project blog just started here this fall. The Yorkshire weather is all over their writings and in their blood, it's just a part of them, ...almost it's own character in each of their respective books. I am so enamored of the Yorkshire wilderness and environment this will almost see me through not being there in person, at least for now. Link up, readers!


Photo by Rebecca Chesney

The Winter Birds Have Arrived

2011-11-06T01:41:00.005-05:00

It's one of the best things about fall/winter, the changing of the guard in the bird world that happens each year. There are always little rare beauties that take over the bleak duty of midwinter. You never see their variety any other time of the year, and why they choose to spend the winter in such circumstances I will never know. But I am so glad, so grateful they do. Their frames grace the sky with much needed company as the season wanes on. Welcome one and all.

Edited to add this, which I came across several days after writing this post:

"The Snow Birds" by Ben Burroughs, from Sketches, 1965

"I watched a flock of snow birds engaged in finding food,
And I must here and now admit they had great fortitude,
They perched upon the frozen earth as though it were velvet plush,
And when one spied a crust of bread, they all joined in the rush.
High flying are these feathered friends, they come with winter's cold,
And fill the air with lusty song, each time their wings unfold.
Where they hide out when storms invade, is really beyond me,
For there is little shelter in a bony, leafless tree.
They love the freezing temperatures, this no one can deny,
They're migratory Eskimos that love a hazy sky,
But when the springtime comes again, snow birds will fly away,
To head for lands where icy frost, is ready to display."

Judge a Book By Its Cover

2011-11-05T03:21:00.005-05:00

Judge a book by its cover.

These for example are gorgeous, and I'd probably buy them just for the covers,

even though, "Wuthering Heights," is not my favorite read.

They bookend the words so warmly and agreeably you think of them,

not as dust jackets or covers, but as cosys.
If teapots can have cosys, surely books can.

There Stepped a Stately Raven

2011-10-31T19:48:00.002-05:00

"There stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore" Poe

Photo from "The Victorian Era" site

Happy Halloween!

Putting Down Your Thoughts

2011-10-21T19:36:00.001-05:00

My current writing journals and scratch notes covers

There is something to be said about writing the old-fashioned way;

Sitting outside with a pencil and paper, putting down your thoughts as they flow.

You reconsider things like this when all your computer data is lost, and you have no backup.

Imagine. Create.Write. Backup.

There are a thousand thoughts lying within a man

that he does not know till he takes up a pen to write.
William Makepeace Thackeray

We Can't All Live at Walden Pond

2011-10-16T02:46:00.002-05:00

Photo from Walden Pond State Reservation

We can't all live at Walden Pond, yet we find glimpses of it in the daily living. Riding a motorcycle at night when the world is at its height of stillness. Gathering up pieces of fall from backyard trees for the sheer beauty of doing it. Dipping your foot in a body of water no matter how small. Knowing when you meet the eyes of those little companions whose footfalls shadow yours, whether feline or canine, that they see the world through senses we may not know, like the woodland creatures do.
Moments that take you there, if only briefly, to the pond, to what it must be like to actually hear nature when you sit outside, not nature backed up by airplanes buzzing by, or neighbors mowing overgrown lawns. These glimpses of simplicity and just being that come our way are telling us something. They speak of what's real and what's important. They pierce to the soul, healing frazzled spirits desperate for the pond and what it represents.

I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

Henry David Thoreau

October 15, 2011

2011-10-15T22:40:00.001-05:00

Raven Thoughts

2011-10-08T01:05:00.001-05:00

"But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered--
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before--
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said "Nevermore."

~Edgar Allan Poe

Whether read by day or night,

that midnight raven nevermore will take his flight.

~Bookishkind

Gathered Words

2011-10-01T11:30:00.028-05:00

Poe, Austen, Bronte, Keats, Shelley, Byron, Tennyson --

One word is all it takes, their names alone are enough for me.

Yet..., pull the harvest from the shelf...

...The gathered words are the ones I like best. ~Bookishkind

But words are things, 

and a small drop of ink, 

falling like dew, 

upon a  thought. 

~~Lord Byron

First Fall

2011-09-24T02:23:00.000-05:00

The very first leaf of fall.
I love how each glows from behind,
Though they are all the same first leaf.

A little halo, grounded by it's gentle journey.

Digesting New Words

2011-09-22T23:48:00.002-05:00

Just discovered some new-to-me words that I am still digesting. They are so wonderfully filling!

So delicate each leaf
So mighty your bough
Branches bend humbly
Yet strength be your vow
Waters in libation
Winds in embrace
Under your majesty
Beneath I in place
Seasons of change
Sun, moon a distant star
Listen I to all the secrets
Whispers near and far.

Rose Marie Raccioppi

Wee Hours

2011-09-16T02:39:00.002-05:00

I find the wee hours of the night to be my cup of tea. It's quiet. Walden Pond kind of quiet. You can think, and the only thing that stirs are the thoughts inside your own head.
On the contrary, the early hours of the day always catch up with me undesirably, unfortunately. They come too soon, and I always greet them with the annoyance of one who should know better, since she's squandered sleep to the wee ones.
Yet this cycle goes on, over and over, night after night. And dreadful morning after morning. I seek out the luxury and discipline of a good night's sleep with good intentions. Somehow, it rarely finds me.

Look Up

2011-09-10T21:02:00.003-05:00

There is one last amazing frontier remaining, where new discoveries emerge constantly. It's not the tundra, and it's not the deep. Just look up, it's right there. Last night a dark dragon stood in the evening sky. Today a wide patch of blue forms a bluefish from the white, parting clouds. Tomorrow it will look very different. There might be colors on the horizon, or streaks of gray. The paintbrush will be dipped and refreshed with new paints and textures, constantly, -- layers of them. Leaving discoveries wide open to anyone who cares to trek the adventure. I almost hope for streaks of gray that just say September. Embrace September.

Some Glad Morning

2011-09-09T01:18:00.001-05:00

I admit that I love music just a little bit more than I love books. My intent is not to combine the two together on this blog, for the most part, but with this CD by Cindy Morgan re-releasing and becoming available at Target, I wanted to re-post a review of the CD that I did for my music website when it originally released awhile back. It's a really great collection of songs and this new version also has songs on it not on the version I reviewed.

If you shop at Target, just go to their little music kiosk and you should be able to hear song samples there.

"All this fear it binds me up and ties me to the floor

I wish I wouldn't answer when it's knocking on the door
There's not a sparrow falls to the ground
You don't turn your head to the sound
Pick it up so sweetly in your hand"
~~"Worry" by Cindy Morgan

Regency Roads

2011-09-04T03:05:00.004-05:00

I'd give almost anything right now for "50 miles of good road." With all the road construction going on lately, you realize you sometimes take good roads for granted, ...whether they are Regency roads, or not.

When the roads get put back together, I'll be grateful. For now, I'll trod them carefully, and with just a little angst that mine are not Regency ones with country paths for stretching with rests from the travel between Regency miles. Once again, born in the wrong era!

"It must be very agreeable

for her to be settled within

so easy a distance of

her own family and friends."

"An easy distance, do you call it?

It is nearly fifty miles."

"And what is fifty miles of good road?

Little more than half a day's journey.

Yes, I call it a very easy distance."

~~Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 32

Every Girl Wants to Be the Fairy Tale

2011-08-25T23:32:00.004-05:00

Every girl wants to be the fairy tale. I remember seeing these Vogue photos by Annie Leibovitz on other sites before, and just being stunned by the sheer beauty. First published in 2005, they show the story of, "Beauty and the Beast."

Layer upon layer of decandent photography, for lack of a better term.

The 1995 "Pride and Prejudice," with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle had the same kind of decadence,

if you know what I mean.

Want more? There's also one for Alice in Wonderland.
Click here for an older post.

And more at this site. And don't forget Shalott.

I Left It There

2011-08-21T03:23:00.003-05:00

My heart is in the trees.

I think I left it there as I walked

Beneath their branches,

Heavy with leaves and nests,

Tall and stretching to heaven.

Rooted strong and thick,

Shimmering in sunlight.

They had me at hello.
~~Bookishkind

"Why are there trees I never walk under
But large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?"
~Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1892

To the Hollyhock

2011-08-10T02:38:00.000-05:00

I got to walk in Hollyhocks today. So lovely. It's like stepping back 100 years ago. I'm not sure why Hollyhocks seem such an old fashioned flower, but they do, and they are.

To the Hollyhock -

Sweet and pink, long and tall,

Surrounding like a fortress wall,

One hundred and some years ago,

Quaint and lovely, just as now.

~~Bookishkind

Surrender

2011-08-05T03:31:00.001-05:00

Google images

The faucet is on full blast right now.
Spilling out so fast, I can hardly contain the overflow. Easily it pours out, a welcome flood.
Let the flood come and wash me in it's path.
I surrender.

Already Flowers Here

2011-08-04T01:38:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow, I am going back to the grove I visited exactly one year ago last summer, where there were paths and paths of gorgeous flowers. But there are already flowers here.

'Tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes!'
~William Wordsworth,

"Lines Written in Early Spring," Lyrical Ballads, 1798

August Fundraiser

2011-08-02T03:30:00.002-05:00

I am kicking off an August Fundraiser in the bookshop to help raise research money for my great-niece who has a motor neuron disease. During August, all of the proceeds from books will be donated for research into her disease. If you like books, and this is something you'd be interested in, feel free to shop the bookstore. Thanks so much!

Walden Cottage

2011-07-27T21:42:00.001-05:00

I have named the little cabin, "Walden Cottage."

It will never be mine, but I do get to drive past it all of the time. Truly the summer of Thoreau.

"Most of the luxuries

and many of the so-called

comforts of life are not only

not indispensable, but positive

hindrances to the elevation

of mankind." - Walden

Wanderers

2011-07-27T03:48:00.055-05:00

I don't understand these youth who come straight out of the pocket,

And know right where they are heading.

I only know how to obey the call of the wanderers,

Who don't even know they've been wandering,

And have only now reached the shore.

Their story is deeper, though harder, stronger, though longer.

It weaves and strays onto paths that take years to untangle from,

Still, it has them where they are today.

They have bloomed, though lately.

Photo by John William Waterhouse - "Ophelia" 1889

Everything Told of the Sea

2011-07-27T03:23:00.002-05:00

"Having come so fresh to the sea, I have got but little salted."
"As I looked over the water, I saw the isles rapidly wasting away , the sea nibbling voraciously at the continent."
"Every landscape which is dreary enough has a certain beauty to my eyes, and in this instance its permanent qualities were enhanced by the weather."
"Everything told of the sea...sometimes the rib of a whale was woven into the fence by the roadside."
"The owner of these trees invariably used the personal pronoun in speaking of them ; as, "I got him out of the woods, but he doesn't bear."
"Such spots can be beautiful only to the returning native, not to him who has just come out of the woods."

But he did find it beautiful, after all.

This was never intended to be the summer of Thoreau, but you move with the tides, so to speak. I just bought this old copy of his book, "Cape Cod," after discovering a paperback version of it which I am currently reading. I am only on page 42, and already have several favorite quotes. What "Walden," is to woods, "Cape Cod," is to the sea. You can read it online here.

"We do not associate the idea of antiquity with the ocean, nor wonder how it looked a thousand years ago, as we do of the land, for it was equally wild and unfathomable always."
"On the whole, we were glad of the storm, which would show us the ocean in its angriest mood."

My Book Footprint - I Love the Wandering

2011-07-24T01:09:00.004-05:00

We all leave a trail of books behind us, even as we look ahead to the next one. You find them in various places and they become yours, at least for the moment. You take a risk with something new and it becomes a new favorite, or you discover an author you have not read before, and it opens up a whole slew of new books to discover. Then there are the ones you think you'll like and they end up being ones you can't quite get through, or you put them down and intend to read them one day, but sadly never do, even though you want to.

The intake and outtake of books is fascinating to me, and I am sure if I had a book trail with footprints to show where I had wandered, it would be interesting, to say the least. My book footprint would show trails that path through literature, biographies, history, and poetry, mostly. Even there, the trail would jag off in many different directions, as I found my way through to discover the books I love. Not surprisingly, I am still on the trail, leaving footprints daily. Surely my path is retraced and backtracked in my discoveries.

But I love the wandering, the adventure that the walking through affords. I wouldn't take the back steps back, for they have me where I am today. Making the most of the journey, while I add a treasure here and there to my shelf, and let go of some that no longer mean the world anymore.

Treasures can change just like people change. But really, not so much.

Photo credits

John Elk III - Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park During Autumn, Missouri

sorrythankyou79 -Anne Books

Arthur Rackham - Undancey

Within Your Reach

2011-07-18T21:28:00.006-05:00

God pours out His beauty,
There is nowhere it can't be.
It might sometimes get overlooked
But it's there within your reach.
A glance becomes a stolen look
The captured moment fades
Layer upon layer presented, All the world's a parade

Is the sound in the forest a sound if someone doesn't hear it? I say, yes.
If only the birds hear it, it's still beauty of the earth, fulfilling its purpose. I wonder how many times we glance at beauty only to look away and forget it. There must be endless such moments in a lifetime.

Top photo is from the Redwood Forest, California.
Bottom photo is of St Francis by Albert Chavallier Tayler

Little Cabin

2011-07-13T00:51:00.011-05:00

There is a tiny little home (cottage) for sale, nearby, that reminds me so much of Thoreau's cabin by the pond, (replica shown).
The owners want $110,000 dollars for it, though I am not sure why, other than it has maybe an acre of land around it, (not a lot).
Since I don't have an extra 100 grand around at the moment, I would appreciate it if you'd stop by the book shop and buy a book or two. I don't want to let it get away from me!

Kindred Spirits

2011-07-04T13:13:00.013-05:00

It's a very subtle nod to Anne Shirley. If you are not familiar with her, you might miss it. But the white sailor dress worn today by the Duchess of Cambridge was just that.Such a high profile kindred spirit will surely shed some light on the Anne of Green Gables books, written by Lucy Maud Montgomery, to a new generation. Hopefully they'll put down those vampire books for awhile and discover a heroine worth knowing.

Goodnight, June

2011-06-30T11:05:00.001-05:00

Goodnight, June,It won't be the same without you~

Plucked For the Joy

2011-06-29T23:37:00.004-05:00

Dried summer,
Subtly beautiful,
Slipped between leaves,
Saving pages long forgotten.
A stain abides,
Not so much a scar,
As a mark of love.
A faint blush,
A petaled blemish,
Plucked for the joy.
Saved as a memory,
Abandoned for the moment.
Rediscovered unintentionally,
Rescued for the romance,
Saved for the joy,
Treasured for the moment.

~~Bookishkind

The Muddy Place

2011-06-22T23:15:00.000-05:00

I weep for your wound, little red breast.
You came to the muddy place,
to gather grass to build your nest.
I watched you through glass,
delighting in your efforts,
as you left and came back again.

In my absence, suddenly, without warning,
claws contained you for a brief moment.
You struggled, finally breaking free,
leaving behind a scattering of feathers & down.

When I found them later, I wept and worried for your sake.
Remembering then, that not a sparrow shall fall that heaven does not know.
Heaven and I wept for your suffering, even as I looked to the
tree where your foundation lies.

Fly away from the muddy place, it won't hold or harm you again.
Fly to fulfill your purpose and be free.
There are nests to build, babies to raise, and songs to be sung.

"All through its life there will be drama...
the drama of life and its beauty"...~~Gwen Frostic

Cotton in the Blue Sky

2011-06-11T19:24:00.002-05:00

There is a cluster of tall cottonwood trees nearby that have been the backdrop of countless moments of reflection. For the past few days these same trees have been snowing 'cotton'. Just like John Thornton looking for roses in the Helston hedgerow, "You have to look hard" to see the cotton in the blue sky shown here. I am enjoying these wonderful June days, every bit of them.

Book Suggestions

2011-06-10T01:01:00.004-05:00

I have five book credits with Paperback Swap.
I have been trying to find some great books to use them for, to no avail.
I would love some book suggestions so I can use them up.
If you have a great one, please let me know. Thanks!

Convinced

2011-06-01T02:16:00.006-05:00

Johnny Depp would make a great Poe.
Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.
Edgar Allan Poe, Berenice

Fairyland

2011-05-31T15:10:00.024-05:00

Though the calendar may not agree...

When you see an elderly gentleman riding an old bike with a brown basket, carrying within it a little black dog, you know it's summer.

When the birds wake you in the early hours of morning with their singsong chatter, you know it's summer.

When the sound of a faraway lawnmower buzzes your ears like the bees buzz outside your door, you know it's summer.

When the days become lazier, you can do as you please, and on a whim you can walk outside and cut flowers for the taking, you know it's summer.

You wonder, here at the very start, what this summer will become. Right now, it's all wishes and dreams, but soon the wishes will take off and the dreams will land - like a fairyland just waiting to unleash it's magic on you. Dream on.

Photo by Arthur Rackham

Do you know this house?

2011-05-25T23:59:00.012-05:00

It is the Anne of Green Gables house on Prince Edward Island, Canada. Anne is fictitious of course, but the house/museum is not. There will be royal visitors at the house this July. Surely Anne would be proud. Apparently, the new Duchess is a childhood fan and requested this stop be put on their schedule. Wouldn't you, if you could!

Past Shabby

2011-05-21T23:35:00.014-05:00

I thought this a clever way to present an old book that is past shabby and beyond its reading years. Beautiful and practical.

*Photo credit - MJ Porter Design

God's Brush Stroke Strikes Again

2011-05-17T18:20:00.018-05:00

Lightly damp from freshly fallen rain.

Lovely enough for a bride's bouquet.

With every leaf a miracle . . . and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-colour'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green
A sprig with its flower, I break.
- Walt Whitman, When Lilacs Last in the Door-Yard Bloom'd
(III, Leaves of Grass)

A Mouthful of Words and Syllables

2011-05-13T22:01:00.032-05:00

Broonhilde. Jane. Earnest. Fitzwilliam. Anne, with an e.

Names. They are stuck with you for life. At least until you change them. They are only words, but important words, at that. Imagine a mouthful of words and syllables dedicated all to you. You want them to be good. So it is with children...and pets.

Naming a pet is like naming a child...well, almost. When we got our kitty almost 2 years ago, he was nearly called, "Winston," after Winston Churchill. Seriously. He had that name for two days, but the syllables just didn't come out right when you said it out loud.
A few other names were tried out before the name "Keeper" stuck. It's not for what you might think, although he is a keeper.

Emily Bronte had a dog named Keeper. A romantic name for a canine companion pet to one of the best writers in the English language - very fitting. I imagine him to be her keeper while she roamed those moors beyond the safety of her parsonage home. I couldn't help myself in copying her. So it went, the name fit, everyone liked it, and it now flows out as naturally as it was meant to. When the words and syllables come out just so, there is pleasure in knowing you got it just right.

Words are meant to be woven together like a beautiful tapestry, one stitch at a time.
If the stitch is not put in properly, it must be undone and tried again. ~Bookish Kind

Goodnight Moon

2011-05-07T22:25:00.024-05:00

"I see the moon, the moon sees me.
God bless the moon, and God bless me."That amazing white ball in the sky is appearing again, a little thicker each evening as it hangs solitarily in the southwest sky, like a dull night light that needs a bulb replacement. Tonight it's just a sliver, a mere shadow of the near-sphere in the photo, (taken sometime last fall), barely visible to distracted eyes many country miles away. But I saw it, and I am glad. Goodnight, Moon.

Trees in the Abbey

2011-05-04T16:54:00.013-05:00

I don't intend on talking about the royal wedding ad naseum, and hope I'm not there yet, but one of the most stunning and lovely aspects of that day, I thought, was the avenue of trees just inside the entrance, surrounded by centuries of architecture. It really stood out as a beautiful gesture of inviting nature's presence into such a sacred setting.

Special Wedding Day

2011-04-29T01:34:00.004-05:00

Happy Wedding Day!
This very-proud-and-happily-American girl has a small part of her heart reserved for Great Britain. Been there twice, and neither time was long enough. So on this special wedding day I celebrate, as all good anglophiles will, a very British occasion and mark of history.

There may be scones and cucumber sandwiches in order later today, if I can get up enough gumption to prepare them. Maybe not. Five years ago, I toured Westminster Abbey and stood near the high altar steps - a beautiful setting for today, and all the memories are good. Here's to watching history right before my eyes.

Blossoms From a Bird's Eye View

2011-04-16T19:13:00.015-05:00

Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

Royal House of Love

2011-04-16T17:06:00.005-05:00

London on the Brain

2011-04-13T01:58:00.006-05:00

What with all the postcards posts and Royal Weddings happening this month in London, I just have London on the brain. This is an aerial view of London from NASA. Amazing, unreal, and stunning! Gorgeous, anyway you care to look at it! (Stay tuned for more London on April 29th)

Post From London

2011-04-09T09:16:00.017-05:00

I adore London, there's no getting around it. Walking it's streets on my own was a dream come true. I long to go back one day, but until then, maybe this can tide me over - post from London.

The sender will write you a quote or saying on a postcard, and send it directly from London.

Like Marianne Dashwood, you'll be checking the post every day, wondering if it's arrived yet.

I wonder if she takes quote requests. For instance, a quote by one of the Brontes, or maybe one of the Inklings, would be nice. Either way, what a treat for those of us who long to be across the pond.

update:
Sadly, I never got the postcard I ordered :(
She sent another one and didn't get that one either!

Photo by Missharry

Spring Rain

2011-04-08T21:15:00.015-05:00

I breathe in strength from Your spring rain,
Dance on the rooftops of Your hope, again.
~Bookish Kind

Photo by Ivan Shishkin "Rain in an Oak Forest" 1891

Then Was Lancelot Sent For

2011-04-03T20:13:00.011-05:00

Here is a link to some less familiar depictions of Elaine of Astolat, also known as, "The Lady of Shalott."
Elaine of Astolat or Ascolat is a figure in Arthurian legend who dies of her unrequited love for Lancelot. Also referred to as Elaine the White and Elaine the Fair, she is the daughter of Bernard of Astolat. Versions of her story appear in Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur and Alfred Tennyson's Idylls of the King. Elaine's story is also the inspiration for Tennyson's poem "The Lady of Shalott."(wikipedia)

And my favorite version by John William Waterhouse

Introducing "Retrench Now"

2011-04-02T11:58:00.008-05:00

Click here

Iron Beauty

2011-04-01T21:06:00.010-05:00

This iron beauty was not meant to be a bookshelf, but that's exactly what she is now. I saw this photo from an online shop, and had to have her. Beautiful, practical, and functional come together in one charming package. Books not included, but that is not a problem!

Photo Credit - 51 Vintage Circle

Lilac Dreams

2011-03-24T18:08:00.024-05:00

The anticipation of the blooming of spring lilacs is killing me. They are only now tiny little buds, but will soon be full-grown blooms that drench the yard with their scent. I "don't want diamond sunbursts or marble halls," just give me lavender lilacs for perfume, and a white picket fence to contain their charm.

"Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland; Go down.. to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)" ~Alfred Noyes

Photo by Anne Keiser

Crave the Rose

2011-03-17T17:10:00.026-05:00

"But he that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose." ~Anne Bronte

The wisdom of this quote was never more real than this afternoon as I sat on the ground weeding a smallish rose garden. Rather than me grasping it, it grasped me. But I crave the June rose too much to stay away.

Anne's roses were untamed wild-grown moorland blooms, smelling woodsy and sweet. Mine are lovely, and at least partially tame, hybrids. Just like their unbridled cousins, every cultivated rose retains some wildness, wearing their hooky thorns like talons, ready at any moment to tear into any flesh that happens by them, leaving behind a wound that craves time.

Free Classic e-Books

2011-03-16T23:47:00.012-05:00

Amazon is offering free ebooks for Kindle right now. Any title that is pre-1923 and out of it's copyright is included in this promotion.

I just got all my favorites, and some that I have been wanting to read - Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Walden, The Mayor of Casterbridge, Keats Poems, The Woman in White, Emily Dickinson Poems, Utopia, and The Secret Garden. There are pages and pages to choose from. I think they work for iTouch phones, too.

Opposite Sides of Sky

2011-03-12T19:38:00.036-06:00

Rainbow and lightening
compete with full sunset,
on opposite stretches of sky.
Secretly we watch, as
the competition wanes,
they little knowing we have already stolen
the prize.

Photo - Spring at Barbizon by Jean-François Millet

Chamomile Books

2011-03-07T22:01:00.022-06:00

Chamomile tea is a favorite of those trying to slip off to sleep after a busy day, needing to unwind and relax from the day's cares.
For me, reading a book just before going to bed does just about the same thing, allowing me to escape the unending loop of thoughts that keep me from capturing sleep. I am quickly transformed to another time and place, and can finally push the stop button on stream of consciousness and drift through the gates of slumber.

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky -
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie
Sleepless...
~William Wordsworth, "To Sleep"

Photo credits
Top photo - Night and Sleep by Evelyn Pickering Morgan
Night and Her Train of Stars - by Edward Hughes

Feeding a Crowd and Feeling Regent

2011-02-28T23:08:00.026-06:00

Feeding a crowd is not easy or economical these days, but here is a fun recipe from the Jane Austen Centre that allows you to do just that. I plan on trying it soon, just because it's so easy and I have all the ingredients on hand, and I want to "feel Regent" while feeding my particular crowd, (if mac and cheese can be even remotely Regent, I'll make it Regent).

From the Jane Austen site:
"This recipe, from Martha Lloyd's Household book, looks as though it could be an early version of baked macaroni and cheese. It is actually a form of pasta in Alfredo sauce. Use any type of pasta (shells, elbows, etc.) though it looks beautiful with penne."

Stew a quarter pound of pipe macaroni in milk and water until it is tender, then lay it on top of a sieve to drain. Put it into a stew pan with two large spoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese, a quarter pint of cream, a small piece of butter and some salt. Stew it gently 'till the whole seems well done and then put it into a dish. Strew grated Parmesan cheese over it, and brown it with a salamander or in a Dutch oven. It may be done with gravy instead of cream if preferred.

Find out who Martha Lloyd was.

Autopsy of a Book

2011-02-26T00:40:00.020-06:00

Raw.Exposed.
Delicate.
It's beauty, Vulnerable and uncensored, Shines out in every flaw.

I've Missed the Sun

2011-02-19T19:26:00.015-06:00

I went outside this morning and could just feel spring. While there is still some snow on the ground, I felt more, the warmth of the sun's rays, reaching its kindled tentacles from miles in the sky to permeate my skin. I've missed the sun, and it felt good to be warmed by it again. Prelude of more to come!

Photo credit - Frost-Covered White Birch Trees with the Sun Rising Behind by Raymond Gehman

This post was actually written several days ago. Outside my window right now is a cold wet rain.

Eavesdrop on the Trees

2011-02-18T22:36:00.000-06:00

"I say, look at the trees," - Edna O'Brien
I say sit beneath the trees while the breeze blows.
Smell their spring boutonniere
Gather their colorful leaves into blithe bouquets.
Eavesdrop on them at dawn and dusk.

Charlotte Bronte's Most Famous Story

2011-02-12T18:57:00.022-06:00

The new Jane Eyre is coming this March, and it's being described as a "darker, more gothic" treatment of Charlotte Bronte's most famous story. I always welcome new adaptations of my favorite books, so I'm looking forward to seeing what they make of it.

Watching the trailer, it almost feels a bit like Wuthering Heights, which I've always found to be a tad too dark for me, (both the book and most of the films). Not to play favorites, but Jane Eyre is by far my favorite Bronte story and Emily Bronte is by far my favorite Bronte. There you have it.

Regardless, I'll happily be watching this new version, and I love the official movie poster, too. Nicely done!

Oh, wait, how did this get in here?

Love at First Bite

2011-02-05T22:44:00.003-06:00

Cold Like Winter

2011-01-28T21:25:00.001-06:00

Death, cold like winter, Storms in swiftly,
Taking away the breath of the one it seeks.
Heartless and unforgiving,
Requiring surrender to the hard glacier ground.

The irony of death in winter is not lost, Even as white breath spills out,
Only to vanish, and then begin again. Reminding, that which drew breath, will again.

I Once Had a Blackbird

2011-01-16T11:33:00.011-06:00

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

~Henry David Thoreau

Read, Just Read

2011-01-09T22:09:00.015-06:00

Like no other time of the year,
the
bleak
midwinter
beacons
me
to
read,
just
read.

And to
watch
the
wonderful
BBC
shows that
start to air
on PBS just about now.

Most of which began with a book.

January Thoughts

2011-01-01T23:12:00.013-06:00

I am living in a frozen chilly world right now. I am so ready for it to not be winter anymore. That's not going to happen, so instead of mourning the fact, I am going to embrace the frigid land and go with what it has to offer.

One thing I do especially love is to walk in winter.
There is nothing like it - the air is fresh and clean, it's invigorating, and when you are done you feel such warmth.

One thing I have noticed this year especially is what a variety of birds stay to face the winter. If they can do it, so can I. I saw a tan bird today that swept swiftly down towards me, and right after that some blackbirds that made me think of Poe's "The Raven." I should have waited for them to speak their wisdom before fleeing the cold. Next time I will, and for sure I'll be the one wrapped up with a scarf.

Winter is the time for comfort,
for good food and warmth,
for the touch of a friendly hand
and for a talk beside the fire:
it is the time for home.
~Edith Sitwell

A Number of Days

2010-12-28T22:53:00.000-06:00

Time - amazing thing that it is. You can sit and watch it tick away by the movements on a clock, or use it to turn a summer day into a series of productive accomplishments. You see it in the Christmas tree all trimmed and arrayed in her Yuletide finery, and on a once snow-laden sidewalk that's been scraped clean. Time - a number of days and hours and minutes that are our very own. I am ready to live mine simply and splendidly.

The future is something which everyone
reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour,
whatever he does, whoever he is.
~C.S. Lewis

Victorian and Bright

2010-12-24T14:59:00.006-06:00

May your days be Victorian and bright~

Listen to O Holy Night

Season of White

2010-12-23T20:29:00.000-06:00

Step Into Winter

2010-12-22T21:12:00.006-06:00

I saw these gorgeous, nature-inspired "ice candles" on this blog, and it was love at first sight! They are simple and beautiful, yet very easy to make.

You could also use oranges, pomegranates, and other pretty winter offerings in these. These make me want to step into winter and stay awhile.

Photo Credit - elizabethandco

A Cup of Cheer

2010-12-22T19:49:00.006-06:00

Someone just brought us this wonderful and yummy mix, and I can't stop munching on it. Here is the recipe:

Christmas Mix
almonds
cashews
peanuts
dried cranberries
dried mangoes
dried pineapples
dried bananas
white chocolate chips

Make Merrie

2010-12-20T21:12:00.000-06:00

How the Grinch Stoll Christmas

2010-12-18T16:22:00.011-06:00

A little book-inspired craft for the holidays. It's entitled, "How the Grinch Stoll Christmas," and I think it's perfect!
“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons.
It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

Cold, Winter World

2010-12-13T21:45:00.000-06:00

In December, the snow is as welcome as can be. Quiet and soft, light and airy. It brings with it such a stillness that allows you to breathe as you have not breathed since spring. It is fresh and invigorating. Cool and calm.

As a girl, I used to walk outside in the December wonderland, singing songs, happy as a lark. Perfectly content in the cold, winter world that was just outside the door. I have always loved the cold, so long as it's not unending bitter.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~Andrew Wyeth

Ol' Santa Claus

2010-12-11T19:55:00.005-06:00

I dare you to play this and not end up dancing, or at the very least moving your feet.

Harry for the holidays~

Crimson Sleeps Under Layers of Cold

2010-12-10T19:57:00.025-06:00

I can't help but think of roses, even as we approach the official start of winter. I must dream about them at night, and when day comes, the thought lingers on. So lovely under a blanket of snow and ice. Little petals of crimson that sleep under layers of cold. They must be dreaming, too.

Warmed By Christmas

2010-12-08T18:04:00.025-06:00

This photo shows a still from one of my favorite movies, "You've Got Mail," that reminds me of Christmastime - such a cozy little shop, all decked out for Christmas.

I love the spirit of Christmas. The lights, parties, and music, (don't get me started on the music!). Sipping eggnog, or reaching for a mug of hot chocolate. Crunching candy canes and getting them stuck in your teeth. Following traditions that were started a generation ago.

And giving. Not so much the giving of expensive gifts, but rather finding or making something you know will be meaningful to someone, really showing them you know them by a thoughtful gift choice.

It's a contageous thing, this spirit of Christmas. It's in the air right now, as you breathe in the evergreen, or are bodily warmed by a cup of steaming wassail. It's as simple as a taste of trifle or fruitcake, slicing an orange or cutting a pomegranite, or trimming the tree with ornaments you have not seen since last year. It's real and it's now.

(Carol)
Carol by Marty McCall/Vickie McCall
candle in the window, cider in the bowl
holly in the garland, joyful songs of old
come hear the ringing of the bells
come join the dancing in the halls
sing now the season has begun
come celebrate the birth of the Holy One

December

2010-12-07T00:04:00.005-06:00

No one is a stranger in dear, sweet December!

Photo by Albert Chevallier Taylor

Winter's Breath

2010-12-05T21:50:00.001-06:00

The snowy,
The white,
Star in the sky
That burns bright.

The holly,
The evergreen,
Christmas angels
Move unseen.

The silver,
The gold,
Winter's breath,
And Truth retold.

Burning fire,
Glowing flame,
Wreath displayed,
In Heaven's name.

Photo Credit - Reader's Digest

The Sun Sets on November

2010-11-29T17:44:00.013-06:00

I really wish I had a better camera. I really wish I were a better photographer. This was so much more beautiful in person, but maybe you get the idea. I am puzzled as to why some birds, including seagulls, choose to remain in cold places during winter. It will be about ten degrees here tonight - how on earth do they stay warm enough? Regardless, they are welcome companions right about now.

Gathering Up Fall

2010-11-27T13:59:00.014-06:00

For the rest of November, I'll be the girl gathering up the remnants of fall, for winter dreams. I'll carry its visions proud and girl-like, as I roam my fields, still as the night and quiet as the hush of dawn. Farewell. For now.

Photo credit - Morgan Weistling, "Emerald Dreams"