Good Things Happen in Threes!

"Magic is desire made real." --Diana Bishop, after both her desire and magical prowess exceed her expectations. (Borrowed from A Discovery of Witches: A Novel by Deborah Harkness)

Cloud Number Nine
is where you'll find me,
and here be why:

Inside the special double-issue of Entertainment Weekly that Thomas did deliver Friday morning ~~turning those particular minutes into the brightest and shiniest part of my day, not to make mentions of the plenty of glitter that continues to fall from my sky ever since, because, yes! My postman and I will date again, come Thursday’s evening!~~ was printed this joyful noise:

(My words~~>) To be released 08 February of this very year,
a fiction by writer Deborah Harkness titled:

Reviewd by Karen Valby (Her words, courtesy of my forever bible, Entertainment Weekly):

“Does this sound familiar? A woman falls in love with a moody, chiseled vampire with a great wardrobe and a quick temper. Of course it does, and comparisons between Twilight and Deborah Harkness' extraordinarily fun debut — the first in a planned trilogy — are unavoidable. But A Discovery of Witches, a thoroughly grown-up novel packed with gorgeous historical detail, has a gutsy, brainy heroine to match: Diana Bishop, a renowned scholar of 17th-century chemistry and a descendant of accomplished witches. Diana has spent most of her life resisting the magic within her. The power she's long denied swirls to the forefront, however, when she opens a bewitched manuscript in Oxford's famous Bodleian Library. Suddenly every vampire, witch, and daemon — yes, they walk among us; we humans are just oblivious to their presence — is up in her grill, hungry for the secrets she's unknowingly unlocked. It's 1,500-year-old vampire Matthew who makes the biggest impression. Diana falls madly for him, breaking every rule about interspecies dating. They're a formidable team, which is lucky because Diana's roiling power has unleashed all kinds of crazy.

Harkness writes with thrilling gusto about the magical world. Whether she's describing a yoga class for witches, daemons, and vampires or Diana's benignly haunted house, it's a treat to suspend disbelief. Alas, there's a bit of bloat to the book. In a particularly saggy patch, Diana and Matthew loll around a French castle, checking e-mail and tracing each other's collarbones. But just when I began to wonder whether A Discovery of Witches was nerdy-cute rather than truly magical, the plot accelerated. As the mysteries started to unravel, the pages turned faster, almost as if on their own. By the most satisfying end, Harkness had made me a believer!”

Did your ears catch that?!
It’s a planned trilogy!

. . . . .

Postscript of great importance:

Might I interest you in some

boysenberry
for the go?

Side by side with good news,
it’s a wonderful start to any day!

Just Wait Until You Get a Lode(stone) of This!

(Please do brightly sing the following to the same holiday tune, pictured above. A most perfect musical accompaniment can be found at the top of my sidebar. Thank you!)

“The 'Holly and the Ivy'”:
Most Definitely Non~Traditional

The Bat Wing and the Climber,
When together they’re sown
Into a sack drawn by a string,
Then true romance will be honed!

O Christmas “petals” and green leaves
Mingled to make “one,"
Pledging luck in love: your heart’s desire!
Now real magic has begun!

Bat Wing is the sobriquet for holly leaves, the perfect pet tag for this plant of good fortune, doubly enhanced by it mirror-alikeness to the flying mammal’s wings, mustn’t you agreed?!

On a day taken from a big batch of them
in right front of Christmas, when

all halls had just been bedecked,
with Gemmama’s

(It being a scissor similar to this,
as a child, I would feed it nutty sesame seeds!)

tiny stork shearers in hand, I returned to the mantel’s holly bough to make snippets that would earn me two of its leaves. Spit~spot, I then made gentle sparges of a pair of winter “Bat Wings” and several pluckings taken and saved back from a summer’s ivy, into a heart-red and small dilly bag, sprinkling them like seeds being planted in a garden of new hope! Back-to-back, then, High John the Conquer root* togethered with a matched set of lodestones**, were plussed into the satin sack, after which I blew thoughtful kisses into it, before drawing its ribbon~string to tightness.

*High John the Conquer root is a completely benevolent botanical. Born of Morning Glory’s “feet,” it brings luck and good fortune to faithful believers~in.
** The lodestone is a naturally magnetic piece of the Earth's crust. Famous for drawing love to the wearer, it helps to remove any obstacles that would sidestep new romance.

Ever so quietly, huzzahs I soon merrily mouthed as, after only a two-day’s worth of wearing the lovely Bat Wing conjurer, Thomas (my grandmother’s mail carrier and the man I hush~hush and perpetually adore!) made gentle knocks upon the front door (to the beat of “Jingle Bells,” no less!) to politely be so bold as to ask if I might be able to assist him in purchasing a most special Christmas gift for his little niece.

Safe~keeping my grip, yet without hesitancy, my answer was “Yes!” (Very in point of fact and quite actually, I geysered a resounding “Yes! Yes! A thousand times YES!” ~~inside my happiest head, that is!) The next day’s afternoon, together Thomas and I (<~~How beautiful that “music” is to my ears!) located a delightfully fluffy, black kitten --who would later be dubbed Pollywog, only to be called Hollywog, because “It’s Christmas, Uncle Thomas, and so is she!”–- for him to present to an eight and a half-year old, soon-to-be-spounting-“You’re the best uncle ever!” Natalie. The "To Boot": Coming after his daily rounds next Tuesday evening, Thomas and I will have our very first official date together! Again, I say, Happy New Year!

Postscript:
I thought so certain I would not be posting until after the bells rang in 2011,
but with the possibility of me bursting, well, I had little, if any, choice! lol

Stork Scissors: Trocedero Antiques

No Time Like the Presents!

Although yesterday’s Sun was being shiny, in chorus a softhearted, steady~down rain arrived –-a light-footed pouring, that of which all-at-once took me by surprise with its impulsive swings: this a way and that a way, then back into a quiescent state it did once more situate itself.

Meanstwhile, our Brightest Star had not taken leave of his senses and glowed he still did. In and out, his brilliance was now more akin to glitter. All of these together-weather bits put this wondering into my head: was I soon to stand under a rainbow?! A fabulously magical rainbow?!?! Lo and behold! Just like that, I was! Because my Thomas was on the front door knocker, turning it into all gentle brass poundings in order to deliver Gemmama and Luella’s cards to me with a parcel ever so carefully barnacled beneath them!

I think I’ve made before mentions of Thomas? He is my grandmother’s postal carrier and my intended Romeo, but, thusfar, only from afar! My feelings for him are unbeknowst to Thomas. Thence, a deadline I have set for myself to ask him, “Scotch Broth is a filling soup of which I am stove-simmering. Please do feast with me this night?’ or “A dessert of Molasses~Ginger cookies so nicely goes with my special receipt Chicken Barley Stew. Please, might I share both with you on an evening of your choosing?”

Too forward? “Heavens to Betsey” be my oath! My internal planning of such an event makes for tizzies and pretty, winged creatures who give me stomach ruffles during this time that the Nervousy Bug does take big bites of me! Courage, Cellar, courage! Deep, deep breaths be mine, and “All in good time” are words I speak to me for the calming. Secretly I do pine for dear, sweet, unaware Thomas. I long also for the day on which the “un” easily drops away from his descriptive.

Goodness! How my mouth is a dash-about! Tee~hees then be yours and mine, since this Cellar Door chapter is to be not about the whys, wheres and howfores of the romantic brew bubbling in my caldron. Here be the instead:

Two days after yesterday marks my being on this lovely Earth for twenty-six years in all! (“Nearly born on Halloween, was I,” my voice gives. “Wouldn’t you agree, that measures for something?” lol) And sweethearts are Gemmama and Luella to

for-get-me-not!

When Thomas handed me the birthday package (at which time, flutters hastily replaced the beating of my heart as his hand did brush mine!), I was profoundly green at the start, as the postmark divulged Gemmama and Luella’s corking whereabouts. Their Halloween holiday has taken them to Amsterdam (where, conceivably, they will conjure up the spirits of Vincent van Gogh, Johann Vameer, Jheronimus Bosch, and Rembrandt van Rijn. With both girls wearing a Master on each arm, because so very much do they enjoy the Arts (“The finer, the better,” claims Luella.) and are quite fond of accessorizing as well, they will go for the Dutch gusto, to be sure! Oops! Please not to disremember Gemmama’s funnyman Jan Steen, who is as gay and animated as any of the party~goers in his paintings! For that, Gemmama has nicknamed him The Carouser. What a fun ‘n frolic his spirit be! O how his humor ensorcels! Many are the times she has called upon Mr. Steen, which makes him a frequent ghosty guest in her home. Positive I am that she will enlist him whilst Netherlanding.

Upon opening my present box, instantly, my envy would turn into ear-to-ear smiling that crossed my face again and over and again! Luella had made for me one of her

signature “ variegateds”: a cozy, hand-knit scarf with an accompanying notecard on which was written:

“Dearest E. That Ever Be:
Best Birthday Wishes!
I love you in the ‘worsted’ way!
Smooches, L.”

(Not about to put into place a case of the Left-Outs, because “It makes for hurts that truly linger,” generously, Miss Luella did send Josiette one of the same, only in yellows!)

And great HUZZAHS to the sends
Gemmama lovingly full-chocked into

the carton’s bottom half:

(Second only to pie, Jimmies are my life!)
Dutch Chocolate Sprinkles!

(A custom of edible letters goes back to Germanic times when, at birth, children were given a runic letter.)
A Sinterklaas Chocolate Letter
molded to be an

the initial of my given name!

And last but not least (because it is best of all!):

(A Barbara Wiggins notebook)
A foiled amethyst Spellbook,
bearing a secret castable created by Gemmama especially for this Birthday Girl, penned in her delightful nervous-pigeon-walking scrawl!

By the by: most possibly
could I interest you in a hardy slab of

Pre-Birthday Cake???

Credit where credit is due: Birthday Cake: ColettesCakes.com

Some Incanted Evening, When You Find Your True Love...

FIRST THINGS FIRST:

Chocolate Cake
for breakfast!

A glad welcome then be yours to
Frosted Petunias and La Boheme Magique’s

Practical Magic Blog Party!

There are so very many to chose from, aren’t there?! (And a too fewness of hours to watch and re~watch, and read and reread them all!) Merrily I speak of the plethora of enchanting moments from the movie and the book,

Practical Magic!

Today, my always and forever favorite is as follows:

Young Sally: (Pained and speaking quickly, almost chanting) I hope I never fall in love. I hope I never fall in love. I hope I never fall in love. (She leans her head onto Gillian’s lap, still muttering)
Young Gillian: (Eyes glittering) I can't wait to fall in love!

Sometime later, Sally is gathering ingredients from the conservatory, a room containing many apothecary jars, cartons, herbs and plants. As she speaks, she consults a handwritten spell in her open diary. A dried flower has been pressed between the pages.

Young Sally: (Reciting) "He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards."

Young Gillian: (Entering and standing in the doorway) What are you doing?

Young Sally: Summoning up a true love spell, called Amas Veritas. (She plucks a petal from a vase of pink roses) "He can flip pancakes in the air.

He'll be marvelously kind.

His favorite shape will be a star. (Picking more petals from a star-shaped white flower) And he'll have ... one green eye and one blue."

(She picks more leaves and petals from another plant along on the shelf. Gillian follows her and peers at the plant.)

Young Gillian: (Turning from the shelf to face Sally) Thought you never wanted to fall in love.

Young Sally: (Pensively) That's the point. The guy I dreamed of doesn't exist. And if he doesn't exist, I'll never die of a broken heart.

Sally and Gillian stand out on the balcony, Sally holding the bowl containing her spell out in front of her. She stares at the petals in the bowl, and as she concentrates, they all rise out of the bowl into the air. They form a beautiful helix of petals, and, with increasing speed, flutter up towards the full moon above. Sally watches them go, as her thoughts repeat:

Young Sally: And if he doesn’t exist ... I’ll never die of a broken heart.

Ever since my this summer's first crossing Gemmama’s threshold (I came to perch a while at my grandmother’s house mid~July just past, when she warmly invited me to custodian her haunt during the time she be Across the Pond attending to a dear friend.), I have been feeling the feels of a love wanting to be encouraged. But, Shhh! Don’t tell: I admire secretly and from a very small afar, an incredible "someone," and it all took start that first day I received the mail whilest~Gemmama~be~away!

(I can't wait to fall in love!)

And each morning thereafter, I awaken with a makemumble upon my lips: a worthy~good charm (Most assuredly familiar?), invoking Aphrodite to introduce love, THE love, into my life:

Inside it and it in me
Aphrodite of the sea
O Powerful Aphrodite,
To let the love find me!

Yet truly, best met spells use things and actions, as well as words (So certainly: Young Sally turned out with petals plucked and leaves and "stars" offered brim-bowled to an ink~sky night’s Full Moon.), thus,

tonight,

I will achieve a particular and love~necessary charm this way (Please join me in the spelling, if your "need" ratherish be like mine ~~~but hold tight to this remembering: THOMAS IS SPOKEN FOR! lol!):

Eyes On Me Apple Love Spell

The Integrals:
Full Moon water, enough to cleanse
1 very red apple, but not a schepabbel (crooked apple): two people who come together in a caring relationship stand equal. An incantation over a misshapen fruit can only result in a less than desirable unevenness!
1 pen that scribes "red"
1 terribly small plane of indigo paper
1 butterfly’s wing (Do NOT spend a living creature for personal advancements. Instead, scour a meadow, park, or, if need be, a motor vehicle’s grill for this ingredient, that of which lends itself to making true love soar!)
1 large spoon of honey
3 driblets of Oil of Heather
1 rose red ribbon

Parlay:
After cleansing the apple, lance off the lid in one slice, exposing it’s star-heart. With an ever so gentle hand, hollow out the core to leave visible a small star, whose points aim directly, yet in all directions, to love. Write with the red on blue paper the name of the one you want to hold you in mind (and then possibly in heart?) Fold the inscibed around a butterfly's wing and insert it in the apple’s hollow. Then, to the top, fill the love fruit with honey and Oil of Heather. Replace the lid of the apple and bow it with the ribbon. Putting fingertip to your Cupid’s Bow, then to the ribbon’s satin knot, twice spell this charm:

O apple~well ‘neath
Full Moon, steeping
Through this night,
heart~wish be keeping.
When feathered song awakens day,
A Longed~For’s gaze shall turn my way.

Now place the apple under a Full Moon’s bright, where its luminous light will charge it until the first song of a bird awakens a new day. (Yes, do make yourself comfortable, as you will have to be alert to its morning sound.) Make haste to then bury the apple in your garden. If you haven’t got a garden, deep earth it in the window box you’ve ahead~of~the~clock purchased just for this purpose. Wait for your results, which should be immediate!

PLEASE TO LOVELY NOTE: And if the first kiss you share together tastes of apples, know then that this be your true love!

POSTSCRIPT:
Be wise. You cannot force someone to love you, so you should never bid on a heart specific. If heedlessly~needlessly nevertheless describes the do~be of you, it might wind you up thrice times more in love with them then they are with you. Also, forever will you NOT be able to trust that the love is true. Then instead, purely intend that the Eyes On Me Apple be of service only to tie snug enough the straps of your Confidence Bonnet, thusly allowing you to finally ask out first the one you’ve been quietly admiring! (No fears be yours of a self~broken heart because you hadn’t done your part!)

Chocolate heart cake originally pictured.