A day like this

There are some days when the writing-business at hand is not to write any actual words, but to live the day in a writing frame of mind...

A day when stirring up a spiced pear compote is as lovely and important a thing as writing another thousand words.

A day when musing over the character of a person you met and making mental remarks over him is as effective as casting him in a villainous role--which you plan to do later on.

A day when driving along rural, leaf-plastered roads in a thick mist is soul-food enough for a week.

A day when day-dreaming while crocheting a wash-cloth for an elderly person is as productive as sitting before your computer waiting for inspiration to come.

A day when whipping up a giant batch of chocolate chip cookies gives you enough courage and stamina and coziness to feel Dickensian again.

A day when French Vanilla coffee cures all the world's ills and reminds you of Fly Away Home... <3

A day when you're eight pages into a reply to a letter and still have much to say, and you're pleased as if you had just entered the last scene of your novel.

A day when you stop and look at the brilliant, glowing, half-frozen color of a six year old's cheeks and realize that "blush" is hardly the word to describe the living beauty of the color.

A day when you look at a pile of apple and pear peelings and marvel over the Creator's genius in coloring them such riotous hues of red and gold and green.

Treasure these days. I'm not sure but they are the most important in a writer's life. Days when we remember to live so that we have something about which to write.

Inkpen Poetry Day: Autumn Landscape

I know you all are bored to death with my raptures over autumn, bored to death over my autumn-inspired poetry, bored to death over it all. But bear with me this one last time and I promise I won't speak of it again....for a week at least. ;) 

"Autumn Landscape"

 By Rachel Heffington

A glimm'ring, golden, vibrant sheen

Upon the leaves once rustling green;

A quick'ning, blood-red, 'passioned glow

Where summer's verdure loved to show;

A dusky, haunting, crimson stain

Dyes every maples in the lane;

A flick'ring orange, dizzying flame

Puts all of spring-time to a shame.

 

"What Say You, Miss Woodhouse?"

"What say you to the new blog look?" ;)

I was tired (already) of the generic raspberry, and I saw this background and knew it had me written all over it. :) I think it's rather pretty...what about you? Now I shall leave you with a Vagabond Song!

A Vagabond Song
Bliss Carman

THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

The Liebster Award, and several other things of note

I am feeling fine as frog-hairs today. How are you? :) I am in a mood when anything is possible, even the coming of Autumn, though the temperatures and sulky face of August deny it.
My high good humour was, I believe, occasioned by the signal honor my dear fellow writer, Katie, from Whisperings of the Pen, who quite astonished me with. She bestowed upon me and my 'umble blog (to quote Uriah Heep) the Liebster Award.
I realized I just impaired my honor as a writer with that jumbled entry, but it is That Kind of a Day, you know. A day when knowing how to spell Tuesday doesn't count after all. ;) And so I will trust that your opinion of me is not much dissipated and we move on!


The goal of the award is to spotlight up and coming bloggers who currently have less than 200 followers. The rules of the award are:
1. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.
2. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Copy and paste the award on your blog.
4. Have faith that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.
5. And most of all - have fun!

Right-o! This sounds like something I am quite capable of doing, even on a day when Things Don't Matter. ;)

1. Whisperings of the Pen- I know Katie has already received this award, but I had to give it back to her. When I first set a toenail on the edge of her blog I thought, "Oh wow...this is how I want my blog to be!" :) There is the perfect composition of gentle wit, humor, beauty, and some rather posh writing. A must visit. :)

2. Living on Literary Lane- Elizabeth Rose is only fourteen, but her blog always makes me smile and wonder how I could become a better writer myself. She's great fun, and possesses horse-sense you mightn't expect from a young lady of that age. Plus, she has one of the best play-lists I've come across, and she loves tea. How much better can you get?

3. Chosen129- My good friend and fellow-writer, Angela Bell, is the proprietor of this wonderful blog. She has chosen to dedicate it to pointing fellow young-adults to Christ, and I wholeheartedly applaud her in this venture. The posts are always thought provoking, and timely. Give it a look! :)

4. I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud- My dear friend and Kiwi pen-pal, Felicity, is the authoress of continual delights over here. As you can tell from the title of her blog, she reads poetry. Good poetry. And a person who reads good poetry and loves it, and is able to transfer her delight to you merely in a breath, is worth associating with. :) Her posts are always first-rate offerings.

5. E.J.'s Library- Elaine Dalton's blog, and a great one for haunting, if you are inclined to favor the haunting of blogs. ;) She posts book reviews weekly, links to the most interesting of her internet finds that week, snippets of her own writing, and other odds and ends that are most diverting. :)

So there you go, everyone! That completes the pleasant business of the Liebster Award. Thank you again, Katie, for bestowing such an honor on my head. :)
I now will proceed to have two random observations and/or points:

1. My writing has been extremely unfocused recently. I do not have Writer's Block, but I can seldom manage more than a page a day in Puddleby Lane. This is entirely unacceptable for obvious reasons, so I seek to remedy it by starting a new schedule:

"I believe we're part of his exercise regime; a mile's walk and a daily scolding of Emma is just what Doctor Perry prescribes." ~Emma, 2009

But no. In all seriousness, I pledge here and now to work on Puddleby Lane for an hour each day. A concentrated hour, with none of the popping over here and there to look at Katie's new post or turn on Pandora or anything of that trivial nature. An hour conducive to brilliancy. ;) I just need to take my mental belt in a notch and buckle down to real writing. Oh. By the by, Flounder is turning out to be quite different than I expected! He's a big baby, rather like a queer Mr. Woodhouse, and is a little selfish and fussy while being nice at the same time. I hadn't thought it of him.
He's immense fun to write, however, since Cora's first thought of him was of how Dickensian he was...I can give my pen leave to write a Dickensian character. Thus we have Flounder. :)

2. It is almost Fall! I can feel it, no matter what you might think from feeling the temperature. The Gypsy Winds are lurking, ready to dance out at any second, and the mists are starting to hide in the hollows and hang in the fields, and the world seems to know the tide has turned and is preparing itself for the riotous dance of the Autumn.
Snatches of all my best poetry (which somehow all relates to Autumn and Winter) floats through my head and I find myself quoting it:

"Oh Gypsy Wind, ye have returned
To come and tell us all
the gladsome tidings that ye bring:
'Tis very nearly fall!"

-and-

"September's step-sister to August
And she hasn't October's rich blood..."

-and-

"November is a lady fair
Clad in a scarlet gown
With copper scattered in her hair
And gold spun in her crown..."

-and yet again-

"When's the holly's in the red
And the pine is in the green
When the mornings all are frosty
In a brilliant silver sheen..."

*wistful sighs*....I have to admit. Autumn and Winter bring me alive. I love the spring and the new birth and the gentle hues creeping across the countryside, I enjoy the beginning of summer with its picnics and emerald greens spattered with gay dandelions...but toward August I begin to fade as surely as the grass, and it takes the Gypsy Winds to awaken me. It takes the Autumn's riot of color to bring me to life, the bracing air, and the gorgeous royalty of it all to instill in me the sense of being wholly and entirely alive as I realize I never was the rest of the year. Ah yes. I could (and have) easily wax poetic about this most beautiful of all seasons. :) ~Rachel

Inkpen Poetry Day: (A day late :) "November Lines"

"November Lines"
By Rachel H.

November is a Lady fair
Clad in a russet gown
With copper scattered in her hair
And gold spun in her crown.

Her rich, red blood is blushing bright
Deep in that copse of trees;
She walks to meet the coming cold
With stately grace and ease.

Fair is her cousin Spring, no doubt
In apple-blossoms shod
Who dances forth on airy wings
And brings our thoughts toward God.

Fairer yet is Sister-Summer
With emeralds on her brow
And daisies in her azure hem--
To youth her charms endow.

But Queen of wealth and beauty,
In a breeze of spiced perfume--
Fair November meets the Winter:
Lady Autumn and her Groom.

Autumn Fancies- Anonymous

"Autumn Fancies"
Anonymous

The Maple is a dainty maid
The pet of all the wood
Who lights the dusky forest glade
With scarlet cloak and hood.

The elm a lovely lady is
In shimmering robes of gold
That catch the sunlight when she moves
And glisten, fold on fold.

The sumac is a Gypsy Queen
Who flaunts in crimson dressed,
And wild along the roadside runs,
Red blossoms at her breast.

And towering tall above the trees
Wrapped in his purple cloak,
A monarch in his splendor
Is the proud, and princely oak.

*Sigh* I've always loved this poem, and by the time I was about 10, I had it memorized. The sight of a brilliantly colored tree never fails to bring this little poem to mind, and I even absentmindedly made up a tune to sing it to...a very lame tune, but I was only 10 years old! :) Hope you enjoy it! :) DON'T FORGET!!!! ONLY 6 DAYS LEFT TO ENTER THE AUTUMN WRITING CONTEST!!!! SEE BUTTON ON SIDEBAR FOR DETAILS!!!! = D