Ice cream, Spaghetti and a Banana

The air in the room was made from delicate crimsons receding to soft pinks, though, when I looked in the far

 away mirror I saw only a sepia me pretending to hide.

He gave me his words, many and bound crudely, surprising me with his gift and I thought I knew

 then that the secret was hidden inside.

"Jessie would have wanted to hug you." were the first words he said.

And I smiled when he spoke them though I did not know who Jessie was.

I meant to walk away but he turned me back, lacing his fingers in mine, lifting my outward palms above my head against the waiting, raw papered wall. 

 His hands were much smaller than I had always imagined.

His lips brushed mine, softly then harder and I could taste years of longing

and something sweet, like decision.  I pushed back, but not to get away.

"Are you afraid to make love to me?" he whispered inside my mouth.

I had no answer, for I had long forgotten that this was what I had wanted.

~MF '13 

submitted to
REAL TOADS-What's Hard for YOU to Write?
with Mama Zen, who I adore.....because she's REAL!  xo
Pop on over and check out some other Hard to Write words!
*hugs*
~Mimi
ps.  If you hadn't figured it out.....for me....it's *whisper* s-e-x........
I have the worst time!  ;)

  

Mindful Writing Challenge 2013

click here to find out:  ALL ABOUT THE MINDFUL WRITING CHALLENGE 2013

~For those interested, I shall keep ALL 31 of my SMALL STONES 

here in this blog post and update everyday.
The updates will not appear in the blog followers but will pop up on Google+

   Enjoy! Be Mindful!
And much gratitude to Writing Our Way Home for the opportunity.
xox  ~Mimi

While you're waiting, here's a fun blog post
from the RIVER OF STONES publication from 2011
I have wonderful friends!  :)
click here for:  A RIVER OF STONES 2011 BBQ & BOOK SIGNING

AROS Crazy BBQ & Book Signing

BEGIN:

Practice Stone  12/30/12
"Pine needles from my humble Yule bough drop demurely in the glittering snow gifting me with a ladyslipper pattern of heart's desire."
****
And Here We Go.....

January 1
"A lone, exquisitely tattered fragment of lace dangles from my antique tablecloth, divulging old, sweet tasting tales of the goat who used to live here." 

January 2
"Christmas lights from across the way glimmer against the chaste snowflakes, leaping 
upward to reflect upon a moon which isn't there."

January 3
"I count slow thrice inside my head these days before spewing forth thick honey mead
or bitter thin venom from my hushed tongue."

January 4
"A salmon sky forms  the letter V, pointing to a place I'll never go again."

January 5
A slightly bigger stone
click here:   January 5th Stone

January 6
"Tang of Christmas-past pine needles delights my nose
as the munch-munch-munch of joyful goats on a cold Sunday morn is the only sound I hear."

January 7
"Rouged, cherubic cheeks of the setting sun give way to the cool, lascivious sliver
of the rising moon."

January 8
"Mary and Joseph kneel humbly in the snow, comforted by the knowledge that a giant polar bear protects the baby Jesus."

January 9
"Just in case any of you were talking about chipping in to get me a present, I've been thinking that I should like a mime from Paris. He could live in my basement and when I'm bored he would amuse me with funny faces and that stuck-in-a-box  thing they do. He'd probably only need to eat invisible bread and cheese, which is good because I never cook. I'd name him Mimey, which would go well with Mimi, though it would probably confuse people. But not as confused as they would be when I told them that a mime from France lived in my cellar. We'd have a lot of fun. And on days when it rained, Mimey would hold a lovely umbrella for me as we walked in place on the street. But I would still get wet."

January 10
"Birds tweeting and the drip-drip-drip sounds as though Spring  has arrived, even though I know it can't have done." 

January 11
~Clan of the Cave Fox~
"Thick smoke drifts from the neighbor's patio with savory smells that make my mouth water,
reminding me that single girls rarely cook raw meat over an open flame on a warm January day."

January 12
"Once upon a time, a while ago, I gave directions to my house for someone to deliver something to my mailbox because I wasn't home. Later, he emailed me and said: "I was so disappointed when I saw your house. I imagined you lived in a rose covered, thatched roof cottage at the end of a dirt road, with a perpetual rainbow and animals in costume dancing on your front lawn." I seriously didn't know what he was talking about. The Cow Ballet is always in progress whenever I leave the house.........."

January 13
"If words fall in a blog and nobody reads them do they make a sound?"

January 14
"I shall need a donkey when I go to France. I won't do very well because my French is terribly bad as I refuse to conjugate my verbs, but I could sing Mon Ane to the people in Paris until someone came for me and showed me where to purchase the lilac colored shoes. With my money left, we could have a grand garden party at the Eiffel Tower and, as we sipped our tea and nibbled violet petite fours, I would tell the people of France stories about my ass. And that's how I know it will be lovely when I go to France."

January 15
"A terrifying wind swept through the land, leaving behind sweet light and a blue, cloudless sky."

January 16
"Sharp pine needles, hunter green moss, crushed wild violets and a musky tang that lingers in my hair long after he has gone."

January 17
"Cold, white winter moon shines down on the storm ruins of my once tidy backyard."

January 18
"Fine, fat, flaxen flakes fall furiously forever."

January 19
HAIKU
"The stitches in time
where the light falls seven locks
words in a French Life"

(as I was jotting down the titles of the books I'm currently reading
I noticed they made a Haiku.......)

JANUARY 20

"Moons ago, when I was young, the lawn and field edge were always covered with the most lovely flower. Like a Dandelion in gypsy garb. My Uncle Whitey called it an Indian Paintbrush. It was orange and black with a tiny bit of yellow, and feathery, like a paintbrush dipped in nature's paint. My Uncle Whitey was smart that way.
You never can find that flower any more. It went away. I think it loved my Uncle Whitey so much it went with him when he left."  

Twirl

I should like to attend an outdoor Victorian skating party!

 With yards of luscious garb to keep me warm and lace trim on my skates 

and a fur lined muff that would look just so. 

 My cheeks would grow pink from twirling in the wind and I would fall down and laugh out loud. And partake of plentiful fripperies by an open fire and my wet bum would grow chilly. 

 That's what I should like.

~MF 2012

Christmas Turnip

The Kiss of Death for me (besides men wearing aftershave!) is the red double heart on the spine of a library book that says:  romance.

Because, let's face it, I have enough that doesn't happen to me without finding out that my bodice will ne'er be ripped and my heaving bosom shall remain, well, heaving.

Generally, when I indulge in the guilty pleasure of a romance novel my suspension of disbelief suffers a serious poke in the eye from the first pages.  How any of these things could happen just strikes me as beyond absurd.  And all with legs shaved, plump raspberry lips and a man whose visage rivals that of the Greek gods.  Oh, and he's rich and loyal, too.

  Right. 

Which is why, when I picked up Lauren Willig's The Mischief and the Mistletoe (based solely on how taken I was with the cover art-judge a book, much, Mimi?) I had no great expectations.

But I do adore Austen so I thought it would be fun to have a light Christmas read.

Well, let me tell you, I couldn't have been more wrong about those red double hearts!

It is proving to be a most delightful read!

A Victorian Yuletide setting, characters you dearly want to become friends with and some razor sharp, tongue-in-cheek humor that will keep you reading to the last page and sighing because it came to an end!

Oh, and simply begging Turnip to escort you to the next Frost Fair!

If you are taken with Austen and hilarious characters and long for the smell of a sticky Yule pudding......

read this book:  now!  :)

There are many more Willig books in this, the Pink Carnation Series.....and I can't wait to read them all!

Actually, I must read them all as I can't bear to leave this wonderful Victorian world that 

Willig has brilliantly created!

Oh, and why Christmas Turnip?

Well, you'll have to read and find out for yourself!  ;)

Trust me....Turnip will make you fall in love with him on every single page!

(Really, who doesn't adore a man who has embroidered pink carnations on his waistcoat.....?)

;)

Merry, Merry!

And a Happy Christmas read!

Much love,

Mimi

Hoarfrost

Hoarfrost

by Fox c. 2012

I bear in memory 

strolling Yule streets

sodden hem stiffening with rime clinging to boots

packages tucked in my old basket

some freshly wrapped in brown paper from the shops

an enchanted evergreen bough brushed my cheek 

as I passed Old Willf selling chestnuts

 on the street corner

and I wished it were you.

created for Mr. Knowitall's

G-man 55

FRIDAY 55

and

submitted to

REAL TOADS

Imaginary Garden with Real...Dolls.....

MUNDANE

Once, long ago, when I was very young,

I was told to put my imagination away.

It won't do , they said, to speak of fantastical things;

of dancing with goats and a yellow dog which sings.

And hats are not for ponies as that is very strange.

 The rules say you must be ordinary. 

Silent.

Normal, like us.

My brother paid me a dollar not to speak.

I took it.

~MF 2012

Today's REAL TOADS challenge is a Doll Challenge and what wonderful dolls they are!

I was drawn to the particular doll pictured here-absolutley LOVE the creativity of the artist!- but I urge you have a wee peek at the rest of the creations over at Real Toads-and some of the writing they inspired as well.

How magical that they they will be infused with this special life!

Thank you so much for sharing!

Have a creative day!

~Mimi

REAL TOADS

Hi, my name is Mimi......

Hi, my name is Mimi and I am a Vintage Lace Addict.

Yep.  And I don't want to stop, either.  

Rehab would do me no good.  ;)

Discovered this lovely piece (in my size!) yesterday at the thrift store.

It never ceases to amaze me the sorts of things people will part with.

I intend to pass from this world buried under a pile of fragile, yellowed, beautiful lace.

You will need to pry it from my cold, dead, vintage lace-mitted hands.

But in the meantime, I intend to wear it!

All of it!

As much and as often as possible!

Thankfully, because of my lifestyle and the nature of my work, I have (and create!)

many. many opportunities to wear my treasures!

Though I will have to wait until the winter passes to give this baby an airing I'm happy to know she'll be waiting to be shown off to the world once again!

And I intend to do her proud!

Now the search is on to find the perfect Victorian rose fabric to create a bustle to match the accessories!

Ain't vintage life grand?

:)

(boots non-vintage/hand sewn chapeau by Hatty Bunratty (which is me!)

Have a lovely day my kindred vintage hunters!

And may you find beautiful things to love!

xoxo