Poor Mr. Dashing

It seems I gave my cold to Mr. Dashing! What a poor excuse for a thank you after the wonderful care he gave me during my convalescence. I tried to take very good care of him too but it was difficult. Just getting him to stay in bed was a tussle. He had so many projects he wanted to attend to and it took all my powers of reasoning and persuasion to convince him at long last that a few days of bed rest was better than day after day of dragging through his tasks.

I made him lovely breakfasts, if I do say so myself, and a pot roast and even an apple pie. Cold weather always makes me want to bake and make stews. I didn't get to much else, but his good health is worth some untidiness. This weekend, however, I hope that we will both be well and I at last can catch up on some chores. My dresser top has ribbon and gloves and a good number of dried roses scattered about amongst an assortment of jewelry pieces. It may sound picturesque put that way but I assure you it is a mess and I'm afraid I will misplace something any day in the jumble.

I also must straighten up my crafting supplies. I need to finish a baptismal gift for a friend's first born daughter. I am working with the first verse of a children's song/prayer which I love. It reads:

Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me;
Bless Thy little lamb tonight;
Through the darkness be Thou near me;
Watch my sleep till morning light.

I came upon it whilst reading a series from the late 1800's entitled "The Little Colonel" by Annie Fellows Johnston. It's a lovely old-fashioned series for girls and I'm in the midst of collecting every yellowed volume. (I must warn it does involve the racial stereotyping endemic to the era but we must not let our vision of the past become too rosy.) The words to the poem were penned by Mary L. Duncan in 1839. I like it ever so much more than the rather sinister sounding "Now I lay me down to sleep." I printed it up on some lovely vellum (I do so love vellum!) but now I must pin down which of the ideas that I have for decorating it will be just enough. I have a habit of liking so many pretty things that I sometimes overwhelm my creations!

Le renard et l'enfant

One nice thing about being sick, if you aren't too sick, is being able to lie in bed and watch movies.  Mr. Dashing and I watched a movie we rented a week or more ago (thank goodness for memberships!) called "The Fox & the Child."  It was recommended on A Fanciful Twist, Miss Vanessa Valencia's most inviting and delightful blog.  The movie was unbelievably beautiful and the ending, which I was a little apprehensive about, was not as much of a downer as I feared.

I have, as my sister Fig would say -- being not just an artist but also a scientist, very strong mirror neurons.  This means if someone is upset, I am too.  In day to day life I strive to not let other's feelings overwhelm me to the point that we are both in an awful mood and of no use at all.  (Yes, this does happen with Mr. Dashing and is not so unusual in that regard as I think we have all let our loved one's stress become our own with meltdown results on occasion.)  However when it comes to what is ostensibly entertainment I am the worst viewing companion.  I hide my eyes, plug my ears and sometimes exit the room when embarrassing scenes come on.  I cry over everything from news stories to the split second when the Beast dies before Belle's love breaks the spell.  Fig has read many a classic that I will not touch due to sad endings (but she fills me in on them all and we can have lovely chats about them nonetheless).

So, I watched ""The Fox & the Child" after delaying for some time due to a fear that the ending would be too sad for me.  It is a sad ending but not too sad an ending and does have a necessary moral that some things can never be possessed.  Thankfully, some things can be possessed like teacups and old books and to some extent cats.  My mother taught me at a young age, "Wild things are meant to be wild."  She would tell me this when I wanted to pick violets (they do wilt awfully quickly) and she would remind me that no one else could then enjoy them. It also came up when I kept toads in a shoe box behind the toilet where it was cool and just ever so slightly damp which the adorable creatures liked (she made me release them every night).  What can I say, I was a child full of contradictions.

One last point, I do wish I had been able to watch the movie in the original French.  Kate Winslet's dulcet tones were by no means a letdown but I love listening to French even if the training I received in it back in high school has all but left me.

New Beginnings

I am in the throes of a cold as I write this. It is not the worst cold, certainly not the misery of the flu, but I have a sore throat and a very red nose (the curse of pale skin) to show for it. It does not seem to be the most fortuitous way to start this blog but it is keeping me in bed with a stack of November Victoria magazines and my laptop for company and so I find I have the time to write.

I ought not to make it sound as if I am left entirely to my own resources for my cat Wheatflower has snuggled up with me for much of the day and my darling love, Mr. Dashing, has brought me breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed as well as cups of tea all day long. However it is dull to lie in bed all day when I had such plans for this weekend! I suppose it has made me actually get to starting this blog which I have been planning lo these many months.

Figgy Pudding is actually my sister's idea as it is a reference to her name (which is not Fig but perhaps shall be on here). However since we have had our spheres decided since childhood, she the artist and I the writer, I am now writing about her design company. I do some design work myself nowadays and she has been known to pen a lovely poem as well so we do mingle our interests more than it may sound (she may even pop by here sometimes, but maybe not). The tea comes from Mr. Dashing and I since we have a dream of opening a tea shop one day in which to serve tea and show off Figgy Pudding wares.

So there you have it web denizens, another blogger in love with the romantic glow of bygone eras, tea and cats. I shall not lack for compatriots, of this we can be sure!