| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 25 2006 : 9:26:00 PM
Okay gals, her is the beginning of the story - someone jump in and write some more...
Anne awoke to the bright June sun as it made a dappled pattern on the blue and yellow patchwork quilt across her bed. For a moment, she was mezmerized by the pattern the warm sun made as it shown through the delicate lace curtains that hung on the east gable window. As the early morning breeze fluttered the curtains, the sweet heady scent of early June roses wafted up to meet Anne's nose. Anne smiled and thought of the fairy bower of small pink roses that grew on the white trellis beneath her window. How perfect that Marilla had chose this room for her! Deep inside, Anne knew Marilla was a kindred spirit and she did have imaginings even though she would have told Anne "fiddlesticks!" Roses always made Anne's heart glad; they made her think of lovers walking hand-in-hand dreamily gazing into each other's eyes, they also made her think of the flushed and pink pudgy cheeks of a baby and their pure innocent smell. Even though Anne was still mad at God for giving her "carrot red" hair as Gilbert Blythe had called it, she could not totally dislike God for making those perfectly pink roses she adored so.
"Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet." The words that her teacher, Miss Stacey had said yesterday filled her mind with hopefulness. Soon school would be dismissed for the summer, and days of adventure waited patiently on the horizon for Anne and her bosum friend, Diana Berry. The girls had already been planning things to do for the summer ~ strawberry picking to make heart shaped jam tarts - and a picnic, yes, they had to have a summer picnic.
Anne had already found the most delightful place for their picnic, and it was terribly romantic too. She and Diana had found a tiny abandoned cemetery nearly overgrown with old boxwood shrubs, and along the ancient white iron fence grew the most tiny pink elegant rosebuds anne could ever remember seeing. They would be just the thing for making nosegay bouquets, or she and Diana could weave fairy crowns for their hair with the honeysuckle that also grew rampant among the trees bordering the old graveyard. There were still plenty of purple velvety wood violets too that they could pick. Anne's stomach gave her a flip-floppy feeling as she thought about the picnic. Nothing could be more perfect and Anne's heart filled with anticipation as she bounded out of bed.
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| 25 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| MaryJane |
Posted - Jan 26 2021 : 3:20:35 PM
Frannie was total fun. She is the Sister responsible for our ongoing, long-standing Farmgirl of the Month celebration. I traveled to Kentucky with my family to meet and stay with Frannie, also Miss Wilma. We laughed and ate good food until our sides hurt. Miss Wilma has been occupied with ailing parents as of late and Frannie went through a divorce so I've lost touch with her. But good memories I'll always have.
MaryJane, Farmgirl #1 Plowin' Thru ~ giving aprons a good wrap for 45 years and counting ~
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| JeanP |
Posted - Jan 26 2021 : 1:08:18 PM
I was "researching" to see if Tussie Mussies would turn up in any previous swaps -- they didn't. But in the meantime, I did stumble across this most delightful thread. If you have time, I encourage you to read the story . . . but, the page ended so abruptly. Whatever happened to Frannie and Kathy and Aunt George and their wonderful story? Does anyone know?
jean
"However difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at."
. . . .Stephen Hawking |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 13 2006 : 1:35:26 PM
i'm anxiously awaiting to see what happens at the SOIREE now that Gilbert has arrived ... need one of you 'writers' out there to finish the tale! xo, frannie
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 12 2006 : 03:31:15 AM
here's the other chapter i wrote on our ride home:
SOIREE
Mrs. Allan's parties were Anne's most favorite times. Anne had fallen deeply and passionately in love with this gentle and kind woman and more than once Anne had drifted off to sleep at night imagining being tucked into bed, as Mrs. Allan's very own daughter with lovely memories of a childhood filled with hugs and stories read at bedtime, of sweet summer baths with Mrs. Allan combing her hair each night and kneeling and saying prayers together. Oh how Anne would love to pray if only Mrs. Allan were her very own.
So when the invitation to a boy and girl "Soiree" at the Allan home arrived, Anne could barely contain herself as she danced from room to room awaiting Marilla's return from town to get her permission to attend.
Putting a bag of groceries on the kitchen table, Marilla admonished Anne to stop flitting like a fly on a hot skillet. Though dubious of mixed parties at so tender an age, Marilla gave in to Anne's pleading ... rationalizing to herself that both Rev. and Mrs. Allan would be in attendance.
The morning of the party arrived, and Anne had dressed and undressed over and over in her two best dresses t'il the buttons had practically worn off! And she brushed her wiry red hair a hundred strokes .. and again another hundred .. and just to make sure .. yet a hundred times more! As the hour for the Soiree to start arrived, Anne ran to Violet Vale not noticing the beauty of her surroundings which was her custom to do. Meeting a waiting breathless Diana, hand in hand, they ran together until just in sight of the Allan's home .. where they stopped for a moment to gather their composure and run their hands over their dresses to smooth rumpled petticoats and to capture Anne's fiery mane that alwyas, even when walking .. went it's own way!
Several of the school children had already arrived and were nibbling what Mrs. Allan so devinely pronounced to be h'orsdeurves. (Instantly , this new word was added to her list of favorite words and she half-whispered it for the rest of the afternoon. She tried various versions .. keeping the h and s silent .. or'derve .. and accentuating various parts of this new word (which Mrs. Allan informed the girls was "French" .. Horse Du-erves ...
She had already, upon receipt of the invitation already relegated SOIREE to the top of her favoirtes list!
Anne, Dianna and several other of the girls nibbled on various 'hor'derves' ... sliced cucumber sandwiches on buttered toast triangles and topped with a slice of red radish as they talked behind gloved hands about each boy upon his arrival, usually followed by an explosion of girlish giggles.
All laughing ceased as a tall, handsome young man approached .. and lemon cake actually flew from Diana's mouth and even Anne choked on her tuna salad canape mid-swallow.
Could that be? ... Is it? ... Was that ... ? YES! ... it was! ... GILBERT BLYTHE
Gilbert had travelled that summer to work on a tobacco farm as he needed to make enough money to attend school the following autumn.
In just a few months .. he looked ... well ... different ... grown up .. and in each girl's own mind .. (even Anne's) so very handsome!
............ (to be continued) ....
o.k. .. one of you farmgilrs who have not yet added to our story ... tell us all that happened at the party after Gilbert's arrivial!!! xo, frannie
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 12 2006 : 03:02:58 AM
o.k. ... on the ride home from ohio .. when not sleeping from the codeine in the cough medicine i'm taking .. i wrote two more little 'chapter-ettes':
here's the first one:
COMMUNION
Anne in her prim grey linsey dress, (without puffy sleeves), was seated by Matthew, whose back was straight as the fir-tree boards he cut and planed for the fence down in the lower pasture to keep the cattle from roaming .. but always with his head bent and eyes to the ground as if in prayer. Anne wiggled a little closer to his side as just the touch of him made her feel safe.
As Anne looked around the small one-room clap-board church painted glistening white on the outside, with sturdy shutters to protect the one large glass window that was traded by a travelling mercantile peddler in exchange for bed and board and donations from every member of the church .. sometimes a little money that had been 'set by' after selling harvests and sometimes a shiny 'bauble' that had been passed from generations before ... but conscious dictating in the hearts of the owners that their gift would help make the small dark interior of the church a brighter place in which to worship.
The wooden walls inside the church were left unpainted with only the mellowing of time to turn the wood into a soft shade of tan, not unlike the summer-parched earth that surrounded the church in patches where grass and weed did not grow.
A small podium stood two steps up on the platform where the preacher stood to deliver messages straight from he words of God. A large leather-bound book with gold-guilded letters read: H O L Y B I B L E on it's worn cover.
Anne once, out of curiosity, and when church service was over and everyone was outside shaking hands and exchanging Sunday pleasantries, sneaked up onto the platform and turned the cover to the first few pages where many names and dates were recorded in several different penmanships. Births, marriages, deaths .. family names .. first and last .. repeating as grandchild turned to grandparent. And Anne thought of her own lost bloodline and suddenly felt both a lonliness and a close connection to the one name she had, in an asylum long ago, heard as one of her very own: Sarah Cathereine. Anne sadly wondered if she would ever know more.
On her other side sat Marilla dressed in a similar plain dress of deep burgundy .. the same shade Anne observed as the deep concord grape juice that was offered up the last Sunday of each month as the Lord Jesus' very own blood.
Only Marilla's dress did not sparkle as did the 'wine-blood" when the rays of sun danced through the 'peddlar window' and shimmied on the velvety plum liquid.
Anne loved this Communion part of the Sunday Service. It made her feel a part of the community as each parishoner (Anne added that word .. parishoner to her list of 'favorite words' .. and would accentuate the "shhhhh" part in the middle of the word ... as each parishhhhhoner reached for the tiny vial from the metal racks that were passed from aisle to aisel by serious-faced deacons of the church all dressed in suit jackets .. most out of date and worn .. sometimes with starched white shirts and sometimes in their best Sunday blue workshirts, but always with a tie around the collar.
Next, crumbles of broken crackers were passed on shiny silver trays .. these crumbs of 'bread" were offered as the BODY of Jesus.
Anne watched and listened intently as Matthew and Marilla dutifully took their share, bowed their heads, closed their eyes and waited for the visiting preacher ...
"this is my body ... eat ..."
"this is my blood ... drink .."
Anne did not yet take Communion because she did not fully understand or even know if she believed in this symbol .. but nevertheless it did make her feel part of the community family to just observe this ritual .. and always .. she closed her own eyes as the little glass tumblers were returned, row by row, to their metal containers. She likened the tinking sounds of glass on metal to white-robed angels wearing shiny silver bells in their golden hair as the fluttering of their wings caused a slight breeze tinking the bells in a spiritual AMEN.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
***note from Frannie: this chapter was inspired from the memories of monthly communions in the Methodist Church of my Youth. And my own questions of the lost-blood line on my mother's side of my family.
Sarah Catherine was my grandmother's name .. my father's mother.
I do not remember her as she died when I was but a small child .. but I will forever proudly carry her middle name .. CATHERINE .. as will my very own grand-daughter).
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 10 2006 : 6:05:09 PM
kathy .. took tons of pictes and despite getting sick .. i had a most marvelous time .. i genuinely enjoyed reading the original anne of green gables. i was sure i had read it before .. but if i did .. i surely forgot mos of it. i think in one of my stories, i wrote that anne's grandmother was named sarah cathereine ... and now i see she is an orphan with no real background. would be fun to 'discover' her family roots in our version!
loved your latest chapter!
i related so much to anne .. i do believe i was her in another life (or maybe even THIS one!) xoxo
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - Jun 10 2006 : 5:31:06 PM
Welcome Home Frannie! We missed you - I wanted to wait to continue the story till you were home and added to it :) Now I have to put my thinking cap on lol
Did you take a lot of pictures? Missed you girl 
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 10 2006 : 5:09:28 PM
Check out the first twinklings of my public thoughts here:
http://auntgeorgeshouse.blogspot.com/
very much enjoyed your blog .. and what leaves you breathless .. well .. for me .. right now .. that would be PNEUMONIA! despite pneumonia .. all this past week .. i was kept breathless trying to keep up with our grandson and disneyworld .. and from watching the glee and delight on his sweet little face.
LOVE all the aprons! how sweet they are!
xoxo
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - Jun 10 2006 : 4:50:20 PM
As Anne and Diane walked hand in hand along the pebbly path that led towards a thicket of wild strawberries.. anne was unusually quiet and diane turned to observe the dreamy smile and far-away look on Anne's face. It was not often that Anne walked silently but Diane had come to know that she was in a land not forgotten and fairly travelled by few, so Diane just walked ahead not disturbing her voyage.
Anne seemed to strain so as to hear voices from a-far singing slowly and ryhthmically .. a tune unlike any heard by mere mortals. She closed her eyes, feeling safe in the hand of her dearest and most trusted friend Diana .. and with each step .. she could hear her own heartbeat keeping time with the netherworld song ... and slowly the words became clearer and stronger in her head ....
Stardust of silver
Moonbeams of gold ..
spun by the fairie-folk
from stories often told.
They live in the hollow
of an olde crooked tree ..
for the 'stardust' of silver
is 'magic' .. you see.
As the tune trailed off toward the end .. Anne thought of the Guardian Angel tombstone and the feeling of connection to the tiny grave .. and just knew in her heart of hearts that the fairies sang of this special place. ...
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - Jun 01 2006 : 5:25:36 PM
Here you go gals, a little more to our Anne story!
Anne and Diana walked arm in arm along the path through Violet Vale, stopping every so often to pick a few of the lovely velvety purple flowers. The air was warm with just a hint of a breeze that blew the delicate scent of violets and wild roses towards them. Anne inhaled deeply as if to hold this glorious scent in her body forever.
“Don’t you just love the smell of flowers Diana? When I die, I hope that someone will plant a lovely pink rosebush on my grave and honeysuckle too.”
“Don’t talk silly Anne ~ how will you know what is there when you are dead?”
“Oh but Diana, I will know, I can feel it in my heart. I think when we leave here that our spirits stay close to the people and places we have loved best during our lives. I feel certain of it. I know I shall never leave Green Gables, it is etched in my heart forever Diana.
Anne grew quiet as if pondering something very important.
“Diana, I found something in the cemetery the other day when I went back to look for the perfect tree to have our picnic under. It was nearly hidden by a thicket. Just thinking of it gives me gooseflesh on my arms” Anne spoke with such conviction in her voice that Diana stopped dead in her tracks.
“Anne, what was it – you look like you have seen a ghost!”
“It might as well have been Diana. There was the most pitifully sad looking Guardian Angel gravestone ~ she looked so lonely, it made me cry just looking at her. There was an old metal marker beneath the dirt that said “Baby Girl LaFever.”
“Oh Anne, I am sure there are lots of children buried in that old graveyard.” Diana spoke as if to comfort Anne who still looked very distraught.
“Diana, I have not told another living soul this for fear they would think I have gone daft.”
“You can tell me Anne, I ‘m your bosom friend. What is it?”
“When I put my hands in the dirt to uncover the marker, I had the oddest feeling. It was like I was supposed to find that grave, but it was more than that. I had the oddest feeling that I was being watched.”
“Don’t be silly Anne. It was probably just the wind or an animal nearby.”
“No, Diana – I distinctly felt the presence of someone.”
“Well Anne, I think you should mention this to Marilla. At least mention the name to her, she and Matthew have lived here so long I am sure they will tell you who the baby belonged to. Don’t fret so much Anne; it is too beautiful a day to be so glum.
Diana was right, she would just ask Marilla. For now, she put the thought of the morose Guardian Angel and the unknown baby girl from her mind. She and Diana would be off now to pick strawberries for the heart-shaped tarts they would be making for the picnic.
The girls had decided to have their picnic on the first day of summer. Anne felt it a perfect time ~ a magical time when the veil between the world of faeries and humans would be very thin. Maybe they would be able to gather the dew that fell off the ferns in the valley. It has long since been rumored that the very dew from those ferns on the summer solstice would make a person invisible to the faerie folk.
Anne often thought about faeries ~ she just knew that they existed. She could imagine them clear as day in her mind – their gowns of gossamer and silken spider webs as intricate wings on their backs. Many times, out of the corner of her eye she could swear that she had seen them fluttering around the hollyhocks and foxglove in the cottage garden Marilla kept ~ she could almost hear them giggling as they darted quickly out of site. Marilla did not know it, but Anne had grown accustomed to leaving the fey folk tiny offerings in the hollows of trees; a piece of a cookie, a thimble full of milk and of course something shiny, for faeries just loved glittery shiny things to decorate their secret homes with.
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 31 2006 : 7:10:34 PM
Gals, after four days with hubby home and his escapade yesterday, I took the day off to recover my sanity hehehe - tomorrow I will be right back with more of your Anne Girl's adventure -
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| Aunt George |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 5:10:17 PM
I decided to join ye ole bloggers. Check out the first twinklings of my public thoughts here:
http://auntgeorgeshouse.blogspot.com/
I'm still trying to figure out how to post links.
hugs,
Aunt George |
| Aunt George |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 4:20:46 PM
Hey all,
My left hand is recovering far faster than my right one did. It still hurts alot to type, BUT, as soon as Kathy posts her next installment, I'll try my hand at a wee chapter too. I love to write and have been writing for years. I have an unpublished MG novel about a sharecropper's daughter during WW2 Texas. My publisher optioned it, but unfortunately, he went defunct, so I have to be content with working on revisions for now. I am really looking forward to the next chapter Kathy my girl, so get postin' love! Oh, and I opened your package and stuck in a little something extra I made for you today. It really reminds me of you! Hugs and talk to you later!
Aunt George |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 08:57:06 AM
Love you Frannie! I will be adding more today if you all can wait till a little later, I have some chores to do and that darned John Boy is in his room writing again lol - I have been thinking all day - u are going to love this ever continuing story of Anne of Green Gables Revisited!
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| asnedecor |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 07:00:53 AM
Kathy -
Go to photobucket.com. Start an album there. Once you have loaded pictures in your album you can attach them here. To do that in a thread that is already going, like this one, instead of doing the quick reply, click on reply to topic. When that screen appears you have a small tool bar at the top and in that tool bar is an icon that has an image like a photo. If you click that it will give you this [img][img] To paste your picture, go back to photo bucket and under the photo you want to post, pick the img connection, copy and paste between these two brackets. You can practice in the test area of the forum.
Anne in Portland
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 06:22:57 AM
gurlz .. wanted to share an e-mail t'wixt kathy and me rather than typing it all out again here. she is so talented! i am soooo enjoying this story .. am going to the library tomorrow to find a copy and re-read it while on vacation next week!
do ya'll know if PIXHOST will work?
pleeeeeeeze some more of you gurlz hop in and add to anne's story! i KNOW there are many of you that are grande 'writers' .. (just by reading your posted stories on the forum and reading you blogs!) even a 'short chapter' would be great!
kathy is an AMAZING writer .. but .. YOU are too! don't be shy .. jus' let your imagination run wild and add to anne's story!
anne ... i loved your description of anne's upcoming picnic .. (i picked some fresh strawberries from my own little patch yesterday .. yummmmm!) and you had me running all over the cabins looking for a 'wicker' picnic basket .. some red checked napkins and checked picnic cloth .. so i could set up a little 'vignette' to photo and post .. as anne prepares the picnic.
oh and georgeanne ... peck out a chapter with that one hand chile!!! can hardly wait to hear what you have to say! i think the more of us that add to the story .. the more charming it will be!
(i'll be gone for ten days .. and hope to come home to lots more chapters!)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
from: kathy:
hehehe, I thought it was stone - only goes to show you I know nothing of doll making - I am sure there will be a terribly sad story about some little girl who that headstone belongs to. You are a very good writer - - When do you have time for much of anything! I think I have pixhost and then I can just add the img image thingy?
***********************************
from frannie: oh chile .. this doll is amazing in it's 'stone-like' technique .. i've made tons and tons of dolls and have had lessons from the best doll designers in the country over the years .. but i still tend to gravitate right back to the homely little orphan-lookin' rag chillun. LOVE learning new techniques.
now you talk about SCARY .. i have another favorite doll that we learned in a class from a FANTASTIC primitive doll-maker (lisa gaines from pennsylvania) .. a week after class, i found the doll of one of the other classmates left on my doorstoop with a note ...
("Deb's children cannot sleep at night with me in the house .. please love me and give me a home").
I used to have zillions of dolls setting about and hanging from the rafters at our 'big house' .. but have had to pare down big time .. and ... these two 'scary black dolls' .. and my 'gravestone angel' are among the few that have made the 'cut' to live at Cabin Creek Farm.
And OH MY YES! Baby Girl LaFever's little spirit leaves her tiny grave and wanders around an olde farmhouse in New Hampshire where a friend used to live. AND the AMAZING part is that this friend moved from Oregon to New Hampshire where she and her husband had never lived before (they have since moved back to Oregon).
HERE is the AMAZING part:
Taking a walk one day .. she discovered a tiny grave with a small headstone that simply read: BABY GIRL LaFEVER.
(And did i mention ... my friend's last name is LaFever!!!!)
Absolutely NO RELATION that they could track!!! Just 'coincidence' with a very unusual last name!
She has a small daughter who also almost died in that house. Turns out that a rabbit had fallen in the well, and the contaminated water almost killed her. AND .. the source of her sickness was discovered by a neighbor .. a nephew of Tasha Tudor!
After her second daughter was born in the house .. and after her oldest daughter's illness ... they DISTINCTLY started hearing a little girl's voice saying: "Mama .. Mama". As if the child was roaming from room to room looking for her mama.
Ohhh .. i will somehow weave this child into our Anne story .. and remember .. there is a 'connection' felt by Anne!
i think your pixhost thingie will work. Let me know if you can't figure out how to post photos .. and i'll let ya' know!
ohhhhhhhhh .. i think i'll share Baby Girl LaFever's post with all the farmgirls .. i'll just post this e-mail there too!
****************************
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 29 2006 : 05:52:36 AM
oh kathy .. hurry! hurry! i'm ready for another chapter!
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 7:20:19 PM
(6) the dear 'angel' guardian is a doll that i made (with the help of Cat Mahone) who came to teach this angel to our doll club a few years ago.
ooohhh gurlfren .. in person .. this angel is heart-grabbing and endearing. i saw a doll on one of the primitive magazine web-sites (ranting raven) and fell in love with it ... i was the 'momma' of a doll club in maryland (Crooked Tree Hollow Doll Club) for about ten years and every other month i would invite a dollmaker from somewhere in the country to teach more 'primitive' dolls than the little cutesie, prissy ones. I contacted Cat Mahone (doll designer) .. invited her to teach .. she came and the doll club gurlfrenz were enchanted at the new techniques she taught. this is an ALL CLOTH doll .. but looks so much like a very olde cemetary headstone.
You have to create a photo-thingie with a photo-company .. mine i think is photobucket .. instructions are somewhere on maryjane's forum .. it's been so long .. i've forgotten how i created it. but will research back on the forum tomorrow to see if i can find it.
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 5:12:56 PM
Hi Frannie - *grins* I am glad you have joined in. I believe in faeries also especially flower faeries and I hug trees and love them dearly. Where did you get that picture of that statue? My Anne girl will have nightmares from that lol - she is scary looking - how the heck do you add images on here - I have some lovely ones we can all share.
See, I knew there was a writer hidden underneath all that Stevie Nicks hair *hugs*
I will add more tomorrow or late tonight when the inspiration bug hits me - ohhhh are Anne Girl is in for some fun times to be sure!
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 12:06:53 PM
oooohhhh .. i jus' have to jump in here and tell you a few special memories that crept into this chapter:
(1) i believe in fairies
(2) i believe in angels
(3) Trees and their leaves, have indeed always given me peace.
(4) We had a 'big olde CROOKED TREE in the hollow of the woods at our Maryland Home .. indeed, we named our home after it "Crooked Tree Hollow" .. (as Anne takes a walk through the forest ... more stories and a poem i wrote years ago about the fairies that dwell in the 'hollow of an olde crooked tree' will probably visit this story again.
(5) my own dear Grandmother's name was: Sarah Catherine
(6) the dear 'angel' guardian is a doll that i made (with the help of Cat Mahone) who came to teach this angel to our doll club a few years ago.
(7) there really is an unknown 'baby girl laFever gravestone ... (her story will resurface later in the story). xo, frannie
Do you remember the TV show (when TV's were first invented!) called: I REMEMBER MAMA.
A line from the story that i have never forgotten is: WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 10:51:54 AM
As always when Anne visited the Lake, she looked forward in anticipation to the Water Fairies who lined up at the edge of the lake where the waves rippled over the rocks and pebbles and tiptoed to meet the land with a gentle kiss and then timidly jumped back. Sparkling like diamonds in the sunshine, Anne saw these dancing Water Fairies as the "Keepers of the Fishes and the Lilies" that nestled in the small coves off the lake-bed.
Anne carefully spread out the time-worn quilted coverlet that she always carried with her when she knew she would be spending time by the lake or the river-stream and sometimes deep in the forest nesting under her favorite tree .. a large olde oak with a big 'hollow' carved out of its trunk. The coverlet was stitched by her Great Grandmother, Sarah Catherine, and had hundreds of snippets of fabric that she had been told were bits and pieces of clothing that had been worn ... and worn out ... by the many ancestors that came before her .. but whose blood still coursed through her veins. Anne often looked at the small lavendar-hued lines that were so visible on her milk-white skin and sometimes late at night after the lights were out she would press gently at her thin wrist with her fingertips and was sure she could feel the very life of these people connected to her, and without whom, she knew .. she would not be here. The thought always gave her goosebumps. Anne would often declare "if i have a daughter in my future, her name shall be Sarah Catherine".
As Anne lay back on the quilt and looked up into the trees above her .. as always, the leaves waved down to her and she always waved back. Since the beginning of her memories, tree leaves had always brought her a peaceful feeling.
Anne's thoughts drifted to Mosswood Cemetary and she remembered the day she had visited alone and discovered, almost hidden by a thicket of unkempt poppies, a sweet Guardian Angel Tombstone. Anne could feel the earth still under her trembling fingers as she knelt and carefully removed years of soil that had, in time, almost reclaimed the tarnished metal plaque at the feet of the Angel. A rush of 'connection' swept over her as slowly a name revealed itself. "Baby Girl LaFever" ....
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 09:34:13 AM
OHHHH .. don't mean to interrupt by not adding to the story .. but i can just SEE Marilla's apron!
Would be wonderful if one or some of you 'apron-makin' farmgirls conjured these up to sell to the rest of us farmgirls!!!
"Marilla had on the bib apron that Anne coveted most. It was made of blue and white gingham checks and had big heart shaped pockets and the whole thing was trimmed in red rickrack."
I will be your first customer and would like to order a second one as a gift for our Enchanted Woods Kathy!!!
xo, Frannie
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 28 2006 : 07:58:49 AM
Marilla busied herself at the stove. Anne always loved coming down and finding her cooking or sewing at the table. It was ever so much better than getting up alone or worse yet, being up with fractious babies and no other help. Today Marilla had on the bib apron that Anne coveted most. It was made of blue and white gingham checks and had big heart shaped pockets and the whole thing was trimmed in red rickrack. It was an apron that Anne hoped someday to have when she was grown up. Once, she told Marilla that she thought she looked completely elegant in that apron. All Marilla relied to Anne was, “Fiddlesticks!”
Marilla placed a plate of hot pancakes in front of Anne. Anne quietly poured the fresh maple syrup from this past winter on her pancakes and ate in silence.
“What ever has gotten your tongue this morning? Are you sick Anne?” said Marilla, showing concern on her brow.
“Oh no, Marilla, I was just thinking of all the plans that have to be made for the picnic Diana and I are having later this month. I didn’t realize how much one has to plan for a picnic. Why, you have to have napkins and a picnic basket and a blanket to spread on the ground ~ and then there is the food. What ever do you take on a picnic Marilla? I know we are making homemade heart-shaped strawberry tarts and probably fresh lemonade or iced tea with fresh mint sprigs in it. Right now I can’t seem to decide though between sandwiches or fried chicken? What do you think is better Marilla?”
“Anne, Mrs. Barry tells me you are planning on having this picnic in the old Mosswood cemetery.”
“Oh yes Marilla, Diana and I found it by accident one day when we were taking a short cut to avoid the Haunted Wood. It is the most dreamy place I have ever seen! I don’t know why some people are so afraid to walk through a graveyard; no body in there is going to hurt you.”
“I don’t know Anne ~ you surely have some odd ideas about dreamy places. It is just an old overgrown cemetery, there is nothing dreamy or romantic about it”, chided Marilla.
“Oh, but it is dreamy Marilla. It has so many tiny pink roses, hundreds of them, growing on the old iron fence and there are so many boxwood shrubs. I don’t know what it is about boxwood Marilla, but I do so love the smell of them. And when the smell of the boxwood mixes with the roses and the honeysuckle, it is such delicious a smell, I could just die while inhaling it! It is a scent I will keep in my mind forever. And when I get old, I will remember the picnic Diana and I will have had there among those lovely old shrubs.” Anne sighed “And there are the most romantic gravestones Marilla. I have seen some with the most elegant angels perched on top of them and they all are so different and some are so old that they are lopsided in the ground, but I think that only makes them more romantic, don’t you think so Marilla?”
“Mind you aren’t late for school this morning Anne with all the chattering you are doing.”
Anne finished the rest of her breakfast in silence. Today, she and Diana would pick the date for their picnic and later, Anne would look for a picnic basket and linens to take. Anne grabbed her books and headed out the door in a dash for Berry’s Pond – or as she like to call it, “The Lake of Shining Waters”.
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| EnchantedWoodsGirl |
Posted - May 27 2006 : 5:21:00 PM
I am trying to stay true to the characters originally written by L.M. Montgomery, but Anne Shirley will have some new exciting and of course, funny adventures. Trust me gals, I am going by memory for most of this, I do have my copy which my sister Shelley had given me that is a three in one volume set, Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, and Anne's House of Dreams - this is such a lovely book, it has Megan Follows on the front cover.
I love to be sharing with all of you - seems you have awakened the Muse in me - this could be a very good thing. I love you all for reading what I write - doesn't interest my husband much - hehehe but then again what interests men usually involves a TV, a meal and a scantily clad wife - lol
Kathy of the Enchanted Wood
http://enchantedwoodmusings.blogspot.com/
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 27 2006 : 3:20:37 PM
oh .. i really MUST find my Anne books! i fear that they are either packed deeply below many other boxes of books in the olde schoolhouse .. or that i gifted them to my daughter or perhaps a friend. I don't remember the story as well as i do The Secret Garden .. and the characters just aren't visiting my 'muse' at this point. I will keep an eye out at antiques shoppes for another lovely olde copy .. and meanwhile .. will probably just keep inserting "receipts" and "gift-crafts" .. as i see in the story the opportunity to do so. (i'm thinking of a surprize 'gift' that Anne will create for her friend Diane).
p.s. are you staying somewhat 'true' to the original story .. or are you walking down other pebbly paths with Anne in your writings?
True Friends, Frannie
My KENTUCKY RAMBLINGS 'blog':
http://cabincreekfarm-kentucky.blogspot.com/ |
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