A GRAVE DECISION

Yeah, so I was thinking.....I don't have enough time now to keep up with life in general or blogs in specific so I thought *this* would make a great work project to keep me busy!

More potatoes on your plate, Chrissy?  ;)

(Pay me absolutely no mind......I ADORE (thrive on!)  this kind of work!)

Enjoy!
http://morgancemetery.blogspot.com/

xo

VICTORIAN COLLAGE

Absolutely MUST search for this book!

Victorian collage?  Oh, yes!

A MAD CLOWN STORY for The MAG

The Circus with the Yellow Clown  1967 Marc Chagall

A MAD CLOWN STORY

Once upon a time I fell deliriously in love with a yellow haired clown.

But now, looking back, I cannot recall even a single moment where I thought he was funny. 

 The end

**A Message to My Fellow Writers:

While I always try my hardest to visit you all, this day leaves me with

no possible time to do so.

Please know that I  respect and support you all and promise not to be

quite so horrid and selfish in the future.

Have a very creative day!

*hugs*  ~Mimi

I LOVE PLAYING WITH YELLOW CLOWNS AND WRITERS AT  THE CIRCUS....

AND AT THE MAG!

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com


Just to clarify-*this* clown is my nephew, Sunny Pickles, who clowns for a living.....
but still, quite yellow!  ;)

Foxmorton and the Cursed Wedding Gown.......

Oh, oh, we're

go-in' to the cha-pel and

we're

gonna get ma-a-ar.........

*insert extended screech-squeal-reverb of bad brakes

followed by several moments of slow motion nerve wracking silence

ending with sickening crunch of steel and glass impact into unforgiving brick wall-

SFX- explosion.  Enhance with smell of gasoline*

So yeah,  the chapel never happened.

That was yesterday.

Today it's nine years later.

Time flies, eh?

But it's still here.  The dress, you see.

Just hanging there on a big ol' nail behind the second bedroom door.

Occasionally making snide remarks, mostly on rainy, Sunday afternoons.

A second bottle of Merlot used to taunt me into putting it on.
"Venir Foxmorton, mon ivresse peu chou-mis sur la robe-personne ne va le savoir ......"
"Oui"

Always a pretty site, you think?

Three quarters of the way, head first, into your cups, Sunday hair in a top knot pony tail, day off granny undies and the dog-who is supportive on the worst of days-graciously averting his eyes.

But those days come less now.  So much less.  (Years now, actually.)
In fact, the only reason I dragged her out was to follow through on a recent Miss Havisham kick that made me think:  What *should* I do with this dress?

I do love it so.
Heavy (oh, sooooo heavy!) ecru satin....crosshatched front and back....hand sewn pearls into each wee cross
 and miles of lace to die for.
I recall the day I purchased it.....all full of dreams.
But the person who was to fulfill them no longer exists....if he ever did.
And that's ok.
I'm over him.
Been over him for ages.
But I just can't get over the dress.

It's storybook garb, no doubt.
Infused with magic, faerie dust and wild violet petals, promises of  the most flawless of repeating twirls in the garden.....and now, a wee bit of Miss Havisham as well.
My absolute favorite part is when the back is gathered into the most perfectly enormous bustle.
When that bustle is gathered I could wear that dress forever!

But, all that aside,I'm quite sure that it's haunted.
And I'm serious when I say that.
I mean, how else would such a perfect dress have come to be owned by me?
It would be just like Foxmorton to acquire a cursed wedding dress.
And, in the months after its purchase, so many things went frightfully wrong that it never fulfilled its destiny.
And it looks like a ghost, I think, all forbidding and spectral.
Because, let's face it, it was indeed stitched with only one purpose in mind.
You can stretch your imagination all you like but there is isn't any thing else you could
imagine this dress doing.
(Although years back I did have an offer to hoist it up the mast of a pirate ship.
Seriously.  And now, thinking back, I rather regret that I didn't.)

Also, not a lot of call for haunted wedding gowns on eBay.

So along with the dress, I get to keep the curse as well.

So now......time to *do* something with it.

If it will let me.

The color needs to change.....the lace distressed......
The bustle needs to be stuffed and made permanent......
It needs sleeves.......
It needs a high neck...........

It needs to move on........

What say you all........?

Go-in' to the chap-el of love-
yeah
yeah, yeah
yeah
yeah
Goin' to the chap-el
of love..............


~MF 2012

THREE GOATS GRUFF

Since the Blind Goats have been diligently working on the music for THREE GOATS GRUFF for this year's Gooseberry Fair I've decided to honor the story I am writing for this by sculpting the characters while I think in which direction our tale should go.  Since crushing troll bones is out of the question in this day and age, I'm guessing I'd better make my troll a bit more likable!  And, in sooth, I'm just as glad......I'm starting to like the wee bugger.   :)

Ohhhh.......

Once there were three very fine goats-

Very fine goats-

Very fine goats-

Oh, once there were three very fine goats

On the goat side of the mea-dow.........

I look forward to bringing you the rest!  
Trip-trap-trip-trap!

xo ~Mimi

GOBLIN MARKET

I have just recently stumbled upon Christina Rossetti.

She is an absolutely brilliant poet.

I highly recommend her to my like-minded friends.

xo   ~Fox

The English poet Christina Georgina Rossetti (December 5,1830-1894)

 wrote poems of love, fantasy, and nature, verses for children, and devotional poetry and prose.

I have to give credit for my stumble to, well, first the Universe, as I believe She always tosses in your path what you need to be reading.  And second, to another stumble, LeFanu, who writes amazingly clever Victorian short stories.  Laura Silver Bell caught my heart and then my research led me to Rossetti.

Joseph Thomas Sheridan Le Fanu (28 August 1814 – 7 February 1873) was an Irish writer of Gothic tales and mystery novels. He was the leading ghost storywriter of the nineteenth century and was central to the development of the genre in the Victorian era.

Clearly, good reading is a matter of good stumbling!

Enjoy!

~Fox

 

MAG 107

Sarlot for Magpie Tales

Edgar was on excruciatingly intimate terms with his Brobdingnagian ardor for Charlotte
but even he was loathe to admit, the moleskin eyebrows had to go.

I LOVE PLAYING WITH LETTERS AND WORDS AND IMAGES AND WRITER FRIENDS

AND EVEN MOLES AT THE MAG!

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2012/03/mag-107.html