Thursday, December 20, 2012


THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

-a vagabond song

Bliss Carman. 1861

A favorite, written around the same time our house was built!
The wind is rattling these old bones and whipping the forlorn leaves around..along with the first flurries of snow, a white Christmas perhaps?

My girl..the first antique photo/frame I ever bought. This old girl's made it through a lot. It's the kind of eerie old photo whose eyes seem to follow your every move.
Perfect colors and a Tambourine in hand.
I like to pretend she's my long lost great grandma.
 Her music making hangs over my old record player and stand.

I've been working on my mantle, I like to change it up with the seasons. The weather outside is frightful..these make me dream of pretty places.

summer sounds and beekeeper bookmarks

wearing my warmest over the knee sweater socks and oversized warm. This old cardigan follows me everywhere, vintage Irish wool with perfect little grandma pockets-homes of Donegal "MacGintys BallyBofey"

teal is having a moment in my life right now..

I'm working on painting a few more little accents, put those alleyway saves to good use haha

Hope you're staying warm!


Caramella said...

I just came back from a stroll in the center, it was freezing in town. Nice to be home. Loved your pictures. I am a new follower.

Circus Girl (Zoë) said...

Lovely! ♥ Zoë x