I Do Believe in Fairies! I Do! I Do!

The Lost~and~Finders

At this summer’s end, before Gemmama flew off for Across the Pond to pay visits to her dearest and oldest friend, Luella, she asked me (out loud and with eyes that I do love how they smile!), “Could you, oh, would you? Please say you will be my house’s custodian while I am far, faraway --and caretaker of my

Spit~Spotty, too?”

Without pause, I shouted, “Yes, a thousand times!“ because magical describes best what my grandmother’s “Home, Sweet Home” is --and her little kitty~catty, too!
My grandmama, the most cheering person in the land (and I imagine yours is, too, on the grounds that aren’t they all?! Lol!) and delightful Missy L do adventure so well together, and in that the time has been a plentiful much since they have played, my expects tell me it will be many, many days until Gemmama’s distant~elsewhere fun and frolic will cross the finish line! Clearly, then, I needn’t tell you all the various everythings and importants I did have to remember to bring with me for my lengthy stay at my new diggings. Except perhaps one, by reason of February Fairies, namely: my foil bin!

Because I tend to be a Misplacer, I have collected colorful tin foil ever since... ever since... Quite honestly, I can not recall an instance when I didn’t, it’s been that “forever”! There, there. Before the Confusion Bug can take yet another nibble of you, I shall kindly explain myself and this Tried~and~True that I look to on a regular basis.
Whenever I lose something, and no amount of searching and retracing of steps will turn it up, I call upon the fairies. Although I make cut fine lost~article announcement in my greetings to them, fairies always know ahead what has become invisible to human eyes. But unless they are assured that the “loser,” for lack of a better word (Undoubtedly, there is one, however, it escapes me now.) is a sincere person, and that they will receive something in return for retrieving a missing item, and

because they are reluctant to not be bashful, they will look the other way. Being that fairies are partial to sparkly, an offer of sparkly as the reward, makes for the ultimate enticement.

Put something shiny, like a bit of tin foil, crumpled (I prefer colorful sorts.), under a glass near where fairies would be. (At Gemmama’s, it is in the wax begonia “forest” growing in the big planting box on top of legs with the shelf at the bottom, where naps are taken by Spot, who keeps a cozy bed there. Fairies like flora and fauna!) Then, tapping into that part of your heart labeled “Humble,” ask the fairies to bring back the lost object in exchange for the all~that~glitters.

It may take a few days, sometimes seven, before LO AND BEHOLD! Your missing treasure will show itself in a place you’ve already looked for it umpteen times, or it will be deliberately placed somewhere absurdly silly! (As you know it, fairies are not opposed to fun and funny!) Next on your agenda: un~glass the foil ball to reward fairies as promised. Soon, and not unlike your once lost “something,” the crumpled shiny will disappear!

In closing, might I toss you a pearl of wisdom?
(Thank~you in advance!)
Catch!

Once upon a Yuletide , I misplaced the book of postage stamps necessary to send my written holiday cards on their Merry Christmas way. Caught without even the tiniest morsel of foil to encourage fairy helpers, I substituted a silver Santa bell under the glass. The very next day, the stamps surprised me from under

the puff~puff

in my dusting powder round! But for three nights that were in a row, I was [Jingle! Jingle!] wide awake!

. . . . .

Thank you ever so much, Miss Danni for this wonderful opportunity to share in your February Fairies jubilee! To my Readers: To make yours a truly magical Faeful February, please accept this invitation to read other participating guest bloggers’ entries. Simply click The Whimsical Cottage button, above.

May a joyful heart be yours!
Cellar Door

Come in from the Cold, Josiette, Josiette!

Today and quite suddenly, our wee early morning, earmarked as a the start of a Satchel Packing Day, took a turn! Presently, Josiette and I would be at the close of her and her shiny new, black kitty Clarinet’s makereadies for

(A "something" about Josiette that you might otherwise would not have known, unless this little birdie told you: Upon her return to her charges, she will be celebrating her happiest year yet (number six) as their loving nanny! A well-deserved congratulations be yours, dear “Miss Poppins”!)
their road trip home,

as they shall point themselves in that direction, come bright and dawny Friday. (O the funs and frolics we have pulled from each others pockets during her memory~album~pages~filling, several~weeks stay with me, here, while I am caretaking at Gemmama’s!) Instead, and as if mysteriously triggered by the unlatch of the first suitcase we intended to make thick with freshly foldeds, Josiette did ACHOO! And, then, again...and again...and AGAIN! “Oh, no!” to the very thought of such an untimely, respiratory echo!

All matters regarding the making fluffy of

Josiette’s luggage

were put on ice, as I chop~chop gave answer to her “What ever shall I do?!” “The Brick,” I assured her, “The Brick!” And with scurry in both feet I did trot off to my grandmother's kitchen.

After red~hotting by oven Gemmama’s medicinal ashlar, I placed the block in a pan beneath Josiette’s chair with a flannel covering the seat. Whilst a back~into~her~pajamas sneezer claimed sips from a large cup of ginger and yarrow tea, the minder nurse (<~~~ That would be me!) poured hard humming water over the brick, until the tin it be in was full to the half~way. Swaddle~wrapped in a blanket fat and heavy was my dear Josiette, who I had sit down upon this healing throne.

Spoons of orange Royal
I did nourish her with,
until dew of her own body’s making
began on her face.

Afterwhichbe, a hasty but careful ---so as not to egg on chills, not even those of the slightest rank-–- cleansing rinse of warmed vinegar and water was next called for, followed by a blot~off completely. Then, straight to bed Josiette did go.

At her side and on Gemmama’s famous hilled~ottoman puffy~fabricated from a rich red upholstery with dotting white velveteen tuffs <~~all to mirror a toadstool’s look, ~~~> I perched. As my grandmother’s

phonograph played,

I listened with Josiette to special spots of Truman’s The Thanksgiving Visitor, till Dreamland kindly took her over. Despite delay, her sniffles~in~sleep became purrs of a kitten, and

the hovering Florence Nightingale
that I be
at last breathed a sigh of sweet relief!

In minutes short I will return to Josiette in the cozy Pink Room where she rests, to re~tuck and make coverlets to her chin. As her Nose Nasties continue to shift and lift, at her bedside I shall attentively sit. There and by then, since the knowings can now be counted on as All Is Wells, I will

cast on thirty stitches,

those of which I next shall knit one, purl one, knit six, purl two, (purl one, knit one) five times to make a first row. Row two will behave likewise, only a tadly reversed. So forth and so on but only a little bittle more my needles shall play clicky. Then begin again and finish again two times mair this mesh I’ll make from toty amounts of worsted~weight wool gray.

Once

catnip~stuffed and sewn into closed, I’ll have Mousies enough to treat Gemmama’s Spot, Josiette’s Clarinette, and my very own pointy-eared, fur bundle Puddle! I love when meowing faces smile! And I love happily ever afters, don't you?

Dearest Josiette:

Be well soon.
Love, E.

Postscript: Meant not only as remedy for that which calls for many consecutive geshudteits, vapor baths work their wonder on days when you think the water’s going to carry you away, as well!

Picture Book Illustrations: Mary Poppins by Mary Shepard for P.L. Travers' classic series, Harry Whittier Frees/Kitties!

Antirrhinum Majus Magick!

I merely went out for postage stamps, yet I remain stampless. But oh, no, No, NO~~I didn’t return empty-handed. Not in the least. Instead, after a "mysterious force" prevented me from getting close enough to the Post Office doors to enter them, I ended up pedaling home faster than

you-know-who with Toto in her basket,
having stuffed my front and two side-saddle bicycle baskets with all the

snapdragons
they could hold!

I bought nearly the entire first-plantings’ harvest of these bunny-rabbit flowers from a young man who was selling them in big bouquets in front of the postal building (where his better-than-selling-lemonade stand stood). I laugh now, because I must have looked like

a speeding-bullet float
in a posied Pasadena parade

as I hurried back to Gemmama’s! Then, I scrambled to find every single vase, plus any receptacle I could count on to serve as one, to put to good use before the "wilts" set in. Honestly, I couldn’t save myself~~I LOVE SNAPDRAGONS! And, today, they are my favorite flower!

Along with hollyhocks (whose ambrosial possibilities are endless: ballroom dancer dolls, fairy goblets, and my favorite, firefly lanterns~~And are you aware? A certain $pell can change hollyhock pod$ into money as well. CALL ME: 555-1031 lol! And did you further know, early mornings when the air is still cold, you might find a hollyhock with a sleepy, big, fat, black and yellow bumble bee in it that you can pet?!), pansies ("I’m thinking of you," is what they say when you the blossoms send. And wouldn’t you agree, these velvet blooms also bear a striking resemblance to Persian kitten faces?), and sunflowers (Such a whimsical presence, within or without the garden. Yes, pure magic!), the snapdragon is known as one of the "personality" flowers. They are perfect for hiding secrets messages, making clip-on earrings, having "dragon" battles, using as paper clips, and not to forget, they are

(This quirky, yet endearing blossom opens its "mouth" to speak when you pinch its sides,)
great conversationalists!
Scattering the snapdragons throughout Gemmama’s house was like putting delightful Victorian ruffles on each of its rooms ~~and I danced as I did so!

I bring more glad tidings: Spot, is finally home! ("Dancing" must have made up a great share of his away-antics, too, as he apparently "tangoed" with many a cocklebur during his secret adventure. While welcome back hugging, I even considered renaming him Braille. lol! But it took only one "bird in the paw is worth two in the bush" meow from Spot to nix the idea. The occasions are many that I can’t quite wrap myself around the his peculiar, dampifying idiom choices. But instead of struggling with the whys and wherefores, I find nodding in agreement nicely lends itself.

Snoozing off whatever "it" was that he’s been up to the last several days and nights, the little scamp has himself piled round and cozy in a little sleep-heap in the balloon-back. (SHHH! Not a word to Gemmama! I don’t suppose Spot should be making himself comfortable there, since he likes to fun it up with upholstery now and again.) Sweet dreams for now, Spot, but expect a comb-out ala interrogation when you rise and shine.

But the blame is plenty mine, I’m afraid. Late Sunday night, I absentmindedly left the jib door-window open, which gives onto the back porch. That’s when an otherwise early-to-bedder Spot made his move. Having remained relatively calm after two days passed with out so much as a glimmer of my grandmother’s cat on the horizon, I suddenly was an anxious pigeon! I found Spot’s Cat’s Protection Amulet mixed up with the potted plant nearby his exit hatch!! It must have gotten snagged, breaking it free from his collar "ere he drove out of sight" (My apologies. For moment, I was channeling Clement Moore.)

Full knowing a case of Magnitude Frets would render me useless to help the situation, and against my better judgement (I would have to deal with the consequences of using the big "M" for personal gain.), I decided the time had come to invoke Magick. As I was about to make an incantation begin to be, who do I spy at last promenading through the garden gate?! I sigh yet another deep sigh of relief as I lay a snapdragon near Spot's noggin to sweeten his kitty slumber. Sleep tight, my little Prince Charmeowing! But not to forget, when you awaken from your honeyed slumber, I WANT SOME ANSWERS, MISTER.

Cat Protection Amulet

Cats’ notorious curiosity often gets them into trouble. Attach this magick amulet to your kittybink’s collar to keep him of her out of harm’s way.

Necessary Ingredients:
A silver locket
a small piece of bark from a pussy willow
a small jade bead
Amber essential oil
a small square of white paper
a pen with black ink

~Using your most perfect script, write your cat’s name on the piece of paper, then sketch a star over the name and draw a perfect circle around it.
~Let fall a drop of amber esssential oil onto the paper.
~Place the pussy willow bark and jade bead on the paper and fold everything into a tiny packet, small enough to tuck inside the charm.
~Envision your feline friend completely enclosed by a ball of white light. Fasten the locket securely to your cat’s collar while you repeat this affirmation three times:

"This magick amulet keeps [cat’s name ] unharmed and whole at all times and in all stations, perpetually and without cessations."

NOTE: While you’re at it, get your cat a tag with your name and phone number on it and affix it to his/her collar, too.)

Almira Gulch, Victorian snapdragons, Tournament of Roses Parade

Spot and Lamb’s~Wool to the Rescue

Late into the night was lovely, when I decided to put that perfect time to good use: investigating my “new” neighborhood on the little footpaths that tangle it together. (My previous post tells of me house sitting for Gemmama, my grandmother who is away visiting a dear old friend.) Even though I basically grew up at my grandmother’s side, landscapes can change over the years, and I was about to find out that they did just that.

As I gazed up at the stars, looking for one that I could wish on (I wanted to see a deer in a field, but since Gemmama’s house is located in a residential section, that wasn’t likely to happen.), I became disoriented. Sometimes in the night, everything you were just looking at suddenly becomes so unfamiliar. Had Pixies dancing under the moonlight led me astray? Just in case, I took off my jacket and put it on again, inside out, to break the spell. Still bewildered, I realized nobody but me was to blame for getting myself [gulp!] lost!

The hoot of a hidden owl kept my spirits up, until and fortunately, I spied Gemmama’s cat, Spot, who just happened to be out mousing nearby. I am certain he followed me; it’s something he would do. After he kindly led me back “home” (That is something Spot would do, too.), I rewarded him with a spare sardine that I’d nestled in a tart pan in an attempt to convince Spot I had baked just for him. But being that he is a cat smarter than most, I don’t think I had him fooled. Spot enjoyed the fish just the same.

Since I am not in favor of small, headless once-swimmers wedged in tins, I instead warmed a kettle of Lamb’s~Wool, leftover from last October, that of which Gemmama had stockpiled batches of in her deep freeze. I don’t know how she does it, but my grandmother manages to save this wonderful spiced drink without cold-burning the apples or losing the brew’s “medicinal” properties. Only took two cupfuls would take me straight to a wonderful dreamland!

Might I share the recipe with you? (Remember, do not drink and drive– be it broomsticks or otherwise!)

Lamb’s~Wool

2 pints of ale
8 Tpoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg 1/4 teaspoon ginger
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of cloves
6 bruised cooking apples for the roasting
6 eggs

Pour the ale into a saucepan and heat gently on the stovetop until it starts to bubble. Stir in the sugar and spices and continue cooking on low heat for nearly a half an hour. Meanwhile, cut the bruised cooking apples into slices, discarding the stems and seeds. (Don't forget to make a wish each time you pull out a stem!) Place them in a heatproof dish with a bit of water and bake uncovered in the oven on low heat until they become soft. Remove the apples from the oven and place them in a large bowl, one from which you can ladle. Remove the spiced ale from the heat, and, if you desire, stir in 6 beaten eggs. Poor the mixture over the warm apples in the bowl. Serve warm.

Not only does this brew taste exceptionally good and promises a sweet dream if you drink it after midnight, but the whiteness of the roasted apples as they float in the cider is quite an enjoyable as well! Please write this on your recipe card, too: Nuts make a nice accompaniment to Lamb's~Wool.

I guess I know what I'm going to have to add to my grocery shopping list!

lamb illustration, sardine tin