Just flying by to let you know that I've done an interview! My hostess was the lovely Melissa, at Melissa loves. The experience was really like a tea party, and I enjoyed every sip of tea and the last morsel of Victoria Sponge Cake. Here is the link:
Out of doors the sun has dried many a shirt and sheet that glide in the wind. I pin them up, end to end and when I'm done, I sail with them; An unexpected dividend.
The first day in our new house, the clothes froze solid right on the line. I'd been busy
lining kitchen shelves with blue gingham contact paper, and anyway how was I to know the temperature dropped to thirty when the sun set in Jackson, California? I reeled in the pulley style clothesline and sure was relieved for the darkness so my new neighbors couldn't see my mortification. I tossed the stiff laundry in the bath tub, and hung them again the next morning.
Laundry crisis averted.
My mother had the Tee pole style clothesline, with three long lines. I used to walk through the billowing white sheets and pretend they were clouds. Its the closest I ever came to flying. The cups above have clothespin handles, and are decorated with outside things, including a little beehive house.
I see your teacup is empty. Would you like a refill? I've got plenty more shortbread too.
You are walking on a woodland path, and there on the earth in front of you lies a cup. Tell me, what does it look like? That is a question from a Victorian party questionairre; Each item you encounter on the path is a symbol for something. The cup is a metaphor for home. Of course it is. It warms your hands filled with black coffee or earl grey tea, and its a vessel, like a house is, to enclose comfort, ritual and nourishment.
Even a broken house that has been through troubled times and it's share of heartache can be pieced back together into something lovely again.
Every day most of us go through the same ritual. We stumble into the kitchen brew our drink of choice and reach for a favorite cup. Once it is filled with coffee, and in my case a tablespoon of honey and a dab of milk, we breathe, sip, and are ready to face the day. It's one of the common bonds that transcend everything else. You may be a librarian, a stevedore, or a diplomat, it doesn't matter. A hot morning beverage in your trusy cup is the great leveler.
Here's one with a butterfly for a naturalist, and another with a blossom and basket of flowers. For a dedicated gardener, or a dreamy type who likes fresh blooms from the farmer's market on the kitchen table. No green thumb required.
A walker, who likes to observe the out of doors at dusk. Hold on, I think I hear the kettle boiling now.
Hope you enjoyed your visit to the Treehouse, and stop in for another cup of friendship soon.