How lonely is the night without the howl of a wolf
It makes me extremely sad that so few of my friends enjoy writing letters. All their adoration is reserved for electronic mail.
I still write letters to a few friends, and it it always a wonderful thrill to open the letter-box and find something written for me. Hand addressed envelopes, thick paper, creamy paper contrasted with dark ink and delicate, spidery hand-writing.
The best thing about letters addressed to you? What is contained within, epic tales, romantic trysts, secrets deeper than the darkest recesses of the ocean….
Hopefully someone feels the same way I do…
Vain is the hope by colouring to display
The bright effulgence of the noontide ray
Or paint the full-orb’d ruler of the skies
With pencils dipt in dull terrestrial dyes.
Her brothers, the new king and prince, set out to find the King of the Peacocks, and at last found him. There, they showed the kind Rosette’s portrait and he said he would marry her if she was as beautiful, but he would kill them both if she was not.
When the news came, Princess Rosette set out with her nurse. The nurse bribed the oarsman to throw the princess, bed and all, into the sea in the middle of the night. The bed was made from Phoenix feathers and floated, but the nurse schemed to put her own daughter in the princess’s place. The outraged king was about to execute her brothers, who persuaded him to give them seven days to prove their innocence.
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver car,
State in wonted manner keep.
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess, excellently bright!
Deer leave their forest security
To emerge into the clearing
Of an abandoned orchard
Of neglected apple trees.
After finding the poison themed china, I thought my search for macabre plates would be over.
But now I have found both gorgeous plates, and silly jokes about “bone china” and “bone Appétit”.
I used to have two Brown Bats as pets, and this video reminded me of them. This video is adorable, heartwarming and made tears spring to my eyes.
Part Deux ♠
Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother’s cottage so beautifully clean and neat that it was a pleasure to go into it. In the summer Rose-Red looked after the house, and every morning before her mother awoke she placed a bunch of flowers before the bed, from each tree a rose. In winter Snow-White lit the fire and put on the kettle, which was made of brass, but so beautifully polished that it shone like fold. In the evening when the snowflakes fell, their mother said: “Snow-White, go and close the shutters,” and they drew round the fire, while the mother put on her spectacles and read aloud from a big book and the two girls listened, sat and spun. Beside them on the ground lay a little lamb, and behind them perched a little white dove with its head tucked under its wings.