My fairy garden – for rainy or cold vacation days and broken teacups

Sunny summer afternoons. I close my eyes and I am lying beside a little creek that happily rumbles on by. Little flowers brighten the grass.

A cottage stands a few meters away, doors open, and inside the teapot stands, making a little chimney of damp up in the little kitchen.

A rabbit is eating clovers unders some bushes right behind me and I don’t move, not wanting to scare if off.

Butterflies and birds sing in the trees, the sun shines and everything sparkles in a calm, bright sort of way.


A loud crash sends me running to the kitchen to see what it is that broke and there it was, my most favoritest teacup, in a whole lot of pieces.

I gather the pieces and just before putting them in a bag to throw away, I change my mind and put them on the counter, consider glueing them together.

My smartness and brains and remarkable intelligence all tell me that is not possible. So I do what anyone would do in such a predicament.

I Google it.

Pinterest has some very pretty links, to make jewelry and mosaic platters out of broken china.

But then I need […]


At the end of the sand, the beginning of the water, and the water comes and goes. Feet in the wet sand and the wave comes back, covering my feet.

Waiting on the next wave, staring at the blue sky and the clouds far away. Seagulls fly there and come back and I want to ask them what they found there, far away in the golden sky. I can almost feel my wings as I imagine flying there but they are missing and so I stand and wait. I don’t know what I wait for, really. It’s always something different, something small and insignificant yet important to me at the moment. Underneath, surrounding that, there is a mysterious longing for something I don’t know and something I haven’t seen yet. It’s on a child and a house and security. A husband who comes home, the oven timer that goes of. The washing machine that’s done so I can empty it out. That vacation and that meeting, a visit from a friend. It’s on a home in Heaven, in which I believe and look forward too, for which I received a longing, built into me and wrapped with mystery […]