I am now using this blog for my Family History/Ancestry.  New post soon. 

Forget-Me-Not-Fall

Early morning bird songs change according to the season.
On these last days of summer, the crows take the stage.
They caw with such enthusiasm, announcing that
autumn is returning once again.
Today the air is close, filled with humidity
~ the aftermath of recent storms.
A subtle breeze stirs the stale, close air.
This quiet stillness of morning is interrupted by
Canadian geese flying overhead ~
Their honking is loud, overpowering the crows call.
Autumn, my favourite season with its vivid colours
that are so intoxicating, yet nevertheless bittersweet.
No other season causes me to look back, nor makes me
more nostalgic or fills me with such an intuitive sense of
longing for the past, than autumn.
Blazing fall colours awaken long-forgotten, heartfelt memories.
Emotional recollections are stirred up and rustle like leaves
that are gathered in neat little piles.

Even with all that fall brings to light, I still look forward to the days that are brighter than the balmiest days of summer, when the sun’s sultry glow charms the fringe of the world.
Sinking in a red glow, the warm inviting sun reflects the bright jewels of autumn. Therefore, I must learn to honour my soul the freedom to savour the views of gilded gold's, rustic reds and outrageous oranges that are scattered across our fall landscape. To once again allow myself the joy of autumn evenings,which bring on brisk air ~ turning leaves and a larger-than-life setting sun that is still radiant beneath the horizon.

White’s Haven ♥ Front Gardens

It's Summertime and the Living is easy…

It’s more like; 

It's Summertime and the living is busy! 

Thought I would share 

some of my pics of our front gardens…

Summertime is meant for enjoying

and that means 

being outside as much as possible.

Take a Stroll through my garden.

I Love Hydrangeas and Roses Together

Carpet Roses, one of my favourites 

New Fountain Feature

Romancing The Rose

White Carpet Roses

Lavender Delphiniums

We can’t ever forget

My Fur Kid, Topaz

I hope you enjoyed your walk through my garden

♥ Thanks for stopping by!

Morning

My morning tea  always

tastes better by candlelight

Alone in a room of my own

aware of the stillness that surrounds me

There is something about a lit candle

that makes a room come alive

All my senses become heightened

Wanderlust imaginings fill my mind

The candle flickers with hypnotic light

inviting buoyant energy

to share this esoteric space

as we merge into

secluded stillness

Embroidery

stitch*blanket*binding*bullion*lazy*daisy*satin*stitch*cross*stitch*French*knot

The imaginings of artistic talent is inspiring and hard to resist no matter what form it takes. 
Creativity manifests as if by magic… 
something from nothing…

It’s not just  poetry that manifests as if by magic.  There are many art forms.  Embroidery happens to be one that is my bliss…I was taught the art of embroidery as a small child by my Mother.  I remember my first piece as if it were yesterday, a pre-made pot holder with a stamp of a Rooster on it.  I choose the colors black and red for my creation.  I recall stitching big awkward stitches while learning and then wondered, what happened?  Ha! I must say, it took me awhile to learn the lesson of patience.  My husband says that I am still learning that lesson.  I remember thinking, embroidery isn’t as fast as colouring. My Mom’s voice still echoes in my head…"the smaller the stitch, the neater your work”  Now I understand why the next piece she gave me was cross stitch.  Despite my impatience, I persevered and continued to stitch with enthusiasm.  In a very short time I came to love embroidery.  I soon had my own hoop, needles, threads and of course we can’t forget the tiny scissors. To this day I still prefer to use my little vintage hoop which belonged to my Grandmother. After many years and numerous projects, I finally have mastered the smallest of stitches.

 You won’t always find traditional colours in my embroidery, no colour choices which are typically expected.  I tend to have an outside the box approach for my needlework art.  “Who says you can’t have an orange daisy with a purple center”.   I embroider much the same way that I use to colour as a child, with a free spirited whimsy-like mischievous outlook, which I continue to draw on for inspiration today.  “Purple puppies, blue bunnies, aqua peonies,…why not?”.    I guess you could best describe my embroidery style much like that of a kaleidoscope. The effect is much like a pansy…ah the pansy my muse!  This multi-coloured tough little perfectly delicate flower understands the mischievous diverseness of nature.

 I love to embroider so much, that I have completed many, many samples with no particular agenda or plan as to how to use them. My imagination stirs and I picture one of a kind keepsakes, such as cushions, bags, purses or stuffed animals. While embroidering I get lost in bliss.  It serves as a form of meditation and now that summer has arrived, I will be out on my front porch sipping lemonade, sewing the smallest of stitches, all while creating something from nothing,

Red Work

something from nothing…

stitch*blanket*binding*bullion*lazy*daisy*satin*stitch*cross*stitch*French*knot

Twice As Nice

 Best Friend

 A poem written by Hallie (9)

Snugly cute friend,

a great TEDDY BEAR

is always wear you leave it,

It’s there to help,

its there to play

and sleep with you

It’s a great listener too...

Some kids say a teddy bear

Is their BEST FRIEND!

~ི♥ྀ ~ʚįɞ~ི♥ྀ ~ʚįɞ~ི♥ྀ ~ʚįɞ~ི♥ྀ ~ʚįɞ

Little Fairy

  A poem by Emilie (9)

One little fairy

was gracefully flying in the sky

She went to every garden 

leaving a surprise

In the morning people woke up

and checked there gardens

to find them sparkling beautifully...

My beautiful granddaughters trying their hand at poetry.

Posted for Friday Poetically with Brian Miller, who asked that we share

something written with or by a child. 

Farewell

The news harrowed my very soul 

They cut deep exposing unforeseen anguish

My heavy heart weeps for thy

Grieved to lose such a special friend

The sting of death breaks us open

Exposing our hearts to bleed

Bereft of the fullness of time

My thoughts are seized by the hereafter

My imaginings are held captive, unable to flee

I will not say goodbye my friend

Instead, I will bid you an emotional farewell

My heart is heavy this evening…My 2nd cousin Jacqueline Sleeper Russell passed away on May 30th, 2011  I will be forever grateful to Jacki for sharing all of her wonderful research on our Family Tree.
If it weren’t for meeting Jacki, I would never of known about my Great, Great Grandfather being an author and poet. I am so thankful for Jacki coming into my life…She will be missed. 

Dearest Jacki

Thankyou ...How can such a small word ever say what I want it to mean.
I will be forever grateful to you and I will always treasure our friendship.There really aren’t any words to convey how much I appreciate your coming into my life…I believe it was meant to be….

"Roots made us cousins...Hearts made us friends"

Love

Your Cousin

Helena

♥ Serendipitous Find ♥

 I love to frequent antique barns, 
you know the ones that are jam packed 
full like a treasure trove from long ago.    
All those past treasures, usually evoke so many memories, 
sometimes with melancholy attached.    
I’m not one of those collectors who have 
100 clocks or 50 egg cups.  
I  consider myself to be  an emotional collector, one who discovers 
a serendipitous connection, where the unexpected find creates 
happiness and a feeling of being in the right place at right time.

I’ve  experienced moments of serendipity and I must tell you, 
it’s an amazing happening!  
Last year while visiting our local antique/craft 
barn I experienced one such out of the ordinary encounter.  
As my husband and I wondered through the museum-like barn, 
there on a shelf in front of me was a lovely vintage calendar.  
I was drawn to it and noticed  the date –  April, 1917.

The calendar was from a shop called Neill Shoe Store 
which use to be in the town where we now live.  
The picture they used caught my eye.  At first glance 
I thought it was of  Mary, as in Mary had a little lamb, 
but with closer inspection it proved to be Little Bo Peep. 

Now for the serendipitous part…

Although, it was Little Bo Peep,  the art picture for me screamed 
Mary had a little lamb at first glance.  My mom’s name is Mary.  
Her father had a pet name for her where he called her 
“Little Nell.”  
The name of the store, Neill Shoe Store. 
But what finally did it for me was my Mom’s date of birth.

Mary Helena {Nellie} Johnson was born on April 6th, 1917. 

Crumb Cake ~ From My Mothers Kitchen

Since receiving several requests for

The Crumb Cake recipe mentioned in my post 

"Please Come For Tea", I thought what better 

way to share it than on my blog....Enjoy...

Crumb Cake

Preheat oven to 375 F

Grease a 9-inch square cake pan.

In small bowl of electric mixer, cream

¾ cup of butter {my Mother used lard}

Blend together {rub}

1 cup of white sugar

Add 2 cups of all-purpose flour

and blend until resembles cornmeal…crumbs.

Reserve 1 cup of this mixture and set aside

Sift together and add

¼ tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp ground cloves

1 tsp nutmeg

½-tsp baking soda

2 tsp baking powder

Then mix in

2 eggs

1 cup of buttermilk or sour milk

Fold in

1 cup of raisons

1 cup of currants

Pour batter into prepared pan.  Sprinkle with reserved crumb mixture.

Bake in preheated 375 oven for 40 - 50 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

Cool 5 minutes then remove from pan.

From my Mothers own pen

Please Come For Tea

In moments of alone time or in the company of friends,

the genuine pleasure of tea drinking is a timeless social

gesture that never loses its charm.

Enjoying a cup of tea has always been a special ritual for me.
My Mother taught me the knack of tea-time. From early on,
I have fond memories of sharing a cup of tea with my Mother.
I consider my Mother's famous crumb cake to be
the perfect accompaniment to this day.

The tradition of having a tea party has been passed down to my
children, and I now enjoy sipping tea
together with my grandchildren.
More than simply a beverage, tea allows one to pause,
while it feeds the soul through quiet reflection.

I always love to peruse different towns and villages,
seeking out a congenial respite for lunch.
Visiting these small towns almost always entails my discovering
the neighbourhood Tea Room.
I have often fantasized about running my own Tea Room.
While in these sanctuaries,
I continuously decorate in my mind's eye,
improving on their décor choices.
It would have an adjoining gift shop that would sell
everything related to the Art Of Making Tea.
I even have a name at the ready…
"The Lavender Lace Tea Room".

Ahh, I can picture it so clearly…..
Step in the door and be met by the fragrant aroma of tea...
the scent of scones warm from the oven...
the delightful company of friends, both old and new.
Sip & savour the moment! "Thε Lavender Lace Tea Room",
a fɾiendly, loving and peaceful place to visit and enjoy your favourite cup of Tea.

The ceremony of tea drinking has managed to remain a constant in my life - a comfort, a haven, a warm treat that outshines any afternoon refreshment and recharges my spirit. There is something calming found in a warm cup of tea...a time to reflect, relax, and treasure our friendships.

The art of tea allows us to celebrate. It is a time-honored ritual, a unique recipe for musing that secretly feeds the soul, especially when savoring that first sip.  Ahh, the sweet aroma of crumb cake…thank you Mom.

___________ ♥ღϠ₡ღ♥_____________
~~~~~~~VICTORIAN TEA~~~~~~~
~~~~~~NOW BEING SERVED~~~~~~
___________ ♥ღϠ₡ღ♥_____________
Finger Sandwiches*Fresh Scones*Jams*
*Whipped Cream*Butter tarts*Mini Muffins*
*Blueberry Truffles*Chocolate Surprise*
___________ ♥ღϠ₡ღ♥_____________
***TEA*COFFEE* LEMONADE***
House Specialty~ Lavender Lace Tea

For my Mother Mary
April 06 1917 - October 27, 2000

As I Stare At My Refection

Prelude  to a Prose

I have emptied my soul and allowed myself to

return to the dark pit of grief , temporarily...

I want you to know I am fine, after some tears of course.

The words below just poured out....

This prompt allowed me to

explain the raw numbing pain of loss....

This is how I felt in the first

months after my daughters funeral... perhaps years after.

Lacy, I will forever feel your Love.

☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸ 

Dear Mirror
As I stare at my reflection
I see a stranger.
Sorrow has eaten me away, revealing a wraith-like shadow me, 

with coal-stained eyes deprived of sleep, a distressed washed-out,

tear- stained complexion, a withered sickly grossness that has

wrenched me through the looking glass of raw pain,

where I have vanished inside my own grief.

Feeling alone and fighting to stay present against the

bottomless black pit of despair, has used up all of my resolve.

My strength of will has no reserves.

I am a mere imitation of my former self, an impostor,

almost certainly unrecognizable by my friends and family.

Will this torment ever end?

☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸  ☸ 

♥  © ஆεlεɳa

Challenge: Write a letter to the person you see in your mirror

posted on http://write-a-letter-wednesday.blogspot.com/2011/04/write-letter-wednesday-13.html

      Poetry Prompt...Finish this line...For

http://dodgewrites.blogspot.com/2011/03/todays-prompt-is-finish-this-line.html

A Love Letter

October 2, 2011

Dear Chantelle

Eighteen years today, Chantelle.  
The span of time seems impossible to comprehend. 

Words of love through poetry continue to find my pen.  
Lunch away at a quaint town, nearby. 
On the way there, the song on the radio as
if right on cue plays for me only.
 
The song “Don’t forget me when I’m gone”
evoke tears of gratitude for the much needed sign. 
A knowing glance from Bob as he also recognizes
the significance this special song has for me. 

Today welcomes autumns Indian summer.
We walk the town and visit the many charming shops,
looking for nothing in particular, but hoping to
find the perfect treasure to mark this day.

Ice tea and fish and chips satisfy our comfort food craving.  

Restaurant radio crackles, before another song starts. 

Your presence is felt as “Knights In White Satin”

plays quietly in the background.  

We sit in silence, listening to every word, welcoming another

amazing glimpse into the unnameable realm.

Lacy, our connection never falters. 

This day always amplifies your energy,

moving your essence even closer.

Although I still feel the pain of loss,

today it is filtered though all the love you continue to send.

Love is felt throughout my whole being. 

You will always be loved and never forgotten.

This is for my first visit to Write A Letter Wednesday

http://write-a-letter-wednesday.blogspot.com/