Scary story time...

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Washington Irving; The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow Page 18
On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless! but his horror was still more increased on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle! His terror rose to desperation...

Wish you a wonderful(and scary) Halloween.....

The days of..

The Page at Pooh Corner --- The AuthorMy only regret was that we had no daughters. But my wife used to always say, "Sons are good enough for me."

Picture...Christopher.Winnie,and A.A.Milne

the Frost Spirits

The Frost Spirits came....very silent in the night
They held a little gathering.... then took there very first bite..

Hunca-Munca..

When Beatrix was five years old, her brother, (Walter) Bertram, was born. Her nurse then left Beatrix to be Bertram's nurse. Because she now was alone in the nursery for much of the time, things were rather dull. Instead of moping and lazing away the days, Beatrix asked one of the family servants, a Mr. Cox, if he would get her a mouse and a box in which to keep it. He obligingly complied, and brought her a mouse and a box that was painted to look like a house. Beatrix named this first pet Hunca Munca, and later Hunca Munca got a husband - Appley Dappley.
Soon after this, a governess was hired for Beatrix. Her name was Miss Hammond, and she encouraged Beatrix's interest in art, especially drawing animals and plants from life. Beatrix showed an active imagination in that many of her drawings featured animals dressed in clothes
( on the playlist..Town mouse and Country mouse)

its Make-up-make-over Monday...

Almost a day late because the playlist was out of order...have a wonderful Powderpuff day..

I love my Love

I Love my Love - V&A Museum of Childhood
While we are waiting for "Mondays" music,lets play a game..
This game is taken from 'The Girls Own Book' by Mrs Child, 1864
'This game may be played by any number, each taking a letter as it comes to her turn. Any mistake or hesitation incurs the penalty of a forfeit. She that begins may say:

A. I love my love with an A because he is Artless. I hate him with and A because he is Avaricious. He took me to the sign of the Anchor, and treated me to Apples and Almonds. His name is Abraham, and he comes from Alnwick.

B. I love my love with a B because he is Brave. I hate him with a B because he is Boisterous. He took me to the sign of the Bell, and treated me to Biscuits and Buns. His name is Benjamin, and he comes from Buxton.

C. I love my love with a C because he is Candid. I hate him with a C because he is Capricious. He took me to the sign of the Crow, and treated me to Cherries and Custards. His name is Charles, and he comes from Cheltenham.

Etc Etc..

A wicked Sunday..

Margret Hamilton

In 1957,Margaret Hamilton who played the(great) role of Wicked Witch, is quoted
to have said:

" I've frightened more children than practically anyone else.
It always seems to funny to me; too, because
I love children so much

We all know the famous line from the Wicked Witch...I'm melting, melting! What a world, what a world!"
And what a wicked world it is...
We live in difficult turbulent times..

But what happens to wickedness in this great story of Oz..
Dorothy:We brought you the broomstick of the Wicked Witch..we melted her..
Wiz:Oh,you liquidated her eh? Very resoucefull..

The Ghost of Jane Austen..

Very interesting video with an interesting 'spooky" ending..do you believe in "Ghosts"?

Clair the Lune

Take a little time to watch this very beautiful clip from Fantasia..they removed this piece,can you believe it..A calm moment to start your weekend,have a good one!

Undine in the branches

Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouque - Full Text Free Book (Part 1/2)
There they saw, by the light of the now risen moon, the
brook which issued from the wood rushing wildly over its banks, and
whirling onward with it both stones and branches of trees in its
rapid course. The storm, as if awakened by the uproar, burst forth
from the clouds, whose immense masses of vapour coursed over the moon
with the swiftness of thought; the lake roared beneath the wind that
swept the foam from its waves; while the trees of this narrow
peninsula groaned from root to topmost branch as they bowed and swung
above the torrent.

"Undine! in God's name, Undine!" cried the two men in an agony. No
answer was returned. And now, regardless of everything else, they
hurried from the cottage, one in this direction, the other in that,
searching and calling.

(On the playlist "the wind" is playing..)

Where the Robins sing..

If I can stop one heart from breaking I shall not live invain-If I can ease one life the aching, or cool the pain ,or help one poor fainting Robin unto his nest I shall not live invain...

Emily Dickinson.

Painting Thomas Hovenden.

Go Hibernate

When the days are getting shorter and darker I sometimes wished I was a bear .Then I could curl up in my "den" and sleep for weeks....I was just asking Mozes from the Hilltop Forest ...isn't it time to go Hibernate?(and maybe we can go together)
Mozes smiled and gave me this answer..
Bears do not go into a true state of hibernation. Instead they go into what is called "torpor". A state of reduced activity accompanied by lowered metabolism, heart rate and respiration. They typically do this as a result of lower food availability. In locations where food availability remains high they may be active for much of the winter. When in torpor, bears may be in deep sleep in their den and might not wake at all even when entered by people etc. but they may also stir, go out, feed, walk about etc.

So...do be careful dear when you are wandering about at The Hilltop,you might meet a sleepwalking Mozes...And whenever I am OFF line for a day or so,don't worry,I am IN TORPOR...(only..'barely'moving for a trip to the fridge!)
(on the playlist-Go to sleep little baby)

its..up the tree Monday..

If you are looking for me...this is where you can find me...

Do not be afraid to go out on a limb ... That's where the fruit is....
(on the playlist-The Sweetheart tree)

Pocket's

Even a bottle of gin!
In Thomas Hardy's novel Tess of the D'Urbervilles, of 1891, the heroine becomes so destitute that she can only find work on a turnip farm. Her companion, Marian, carries a bottle of gin in her pocket:

'Marian's will had a method of assisting itself by taking from her pocket as the afternoon wore on a pint bottle corked with white rag, from which she invited Tess to drink. Tess's unassisted power of dreaming, however, being enough for her sublimation at present, she declined except the merest sip, and then Marian took a pull herself from the spirits. 'I've got used to it,' she said, 'and can't leave it off now. 'Tis my only comfort

I am afraid I have TO MANY pockets...and strange things live in it..What about your's?

From Jane Austen's World
Take a look..a lovely site

Fun Day..

A fun day at the Hilltop...have a lovely weekend

(at the playlist-Leapfrog-David Wood)

The book of my life..

Tagged...By Grandma K....And this is a fun Tag because its about...pictures!
Open file (map) nr. six and pick picture nr. six and...yes,make a post!
Well in my case this was a photograph of my bookcase!
A lot of books...but not all of them I am afraid

Books to the cieling
Books to the sky,
My pile of books is a mile high.
How I love them! How I need them!
I'll have a long beard by the time I read them.
Arnold Lobel

Hope not..anyway..couldn't live without them

Books...are like lobster shells, we surround ourselves with 'em, then we grow out of 'em and leave 'em behind, as evidence of our earlier stages of development.
Dorothy L. Sayers (1893 - 1957)

Well,there are a many stages in my bookcase..
What did those many books teach me...am I older and wiser..
The books told me a story about life,and I know now, that I know notting...
And that this "development" only stops when I stop...and my book of life ends.

Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life

And a wonderful book it has been,hope to write some more..
Enjoy your book of life writing..you can do it only once..with a little trust and a lot of love you will be fine...

So I tagg..
Teatime with melody
Heidi..Celebrate the seasons
Miss Mari-Nanci..Smilnsigh...please go and visit,you can find them in my Kindred Spirit list!

Umbrellas

Under a toad stool
Crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain
To shelter himself.
Under the toad stool
Sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse
All in a heap.
Trembled the wee Elf
Frightened, and yet
Fearing to fly away
Lest he get wet.
To the next shelter—
Maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf
Smiled a wee smile;
Tugged till the toad stool
Toppled in two;
Holding it over him,
Gayly he flew.
Soon he was safe home,
Dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse—
'Good gracious me!
'Where is my toad stool?'
Loud he lamented.
And that's how umbrellas
First were invented.
—OLIVER HERFORD."

And I do need one today,it's coming down in buckets!

Beyond control

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
ABOUT THIS POEM:

In this poem Longfellow describes the sound of the sea as the waves lap against the shore and the tide rises. He compares the rush of the tide to rushes of inspiration people experience sometimes. He also suggests that those inspirations might be a way of divine "foreshadowing and foreseeing" as opposed to the regularity with which the tide rises. Just like the tide of the sea, the tide of the soul is beyond our control as well

Paiting William R Symonds

Anxious attentions to the weather...

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen - Volume I, Chapter I

I have an hundred things to say to you. In the first place, I was so afraid it would rain this morning, just as I wanted to set off; it looked very showery, and that would have thrown me into agonies

iits Monday..

My Monday mood...wouldnt this be lovely..

Find your way by moonlight..

"“Yes, I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and see the dawn before the rest of the world.” - Oscar Wilde"

Where dreams come true and time stands still...

Remember....how the Lady shoe,together with the white rabbit,jumped in the High Hat,that stood in the middle of the table.
"Help",squeaked the Lady shoe,"help,I thought that this would be a small leap,but I remain tumbling and tumbling..'
She saw how the white rabbit tumbled beside her,and she mentioned,"My dear white rabbit,please tell me, how deep is a High Hat"?
The white rabbit,used to tumbling in high hats answered," a hat is as deep as it is high, but only in reality"
"In reality....O," said the Lady shoe, "O, actualy I have the distinct feeling that I am dreaming"! She found it so peculiar. A High Hat without a bottom!
While she fell she looked down.......no, still no landingplace in view!
"How long will it take before we are on the bottom",she asked the white rabbit. "Infinitely", answered the rabbit tumbling" infinitely."
"Endless, squeaked the lady shoe nervously, I do not have so much time..!
"There is but one solution", 'sniffeled the white rabbit,making a a beautiful salto!.
"And what is that solution",the Lady shoe askt eagerly.
"You must forget time", sniffeled the rabbit," only then you will know know how late it actually is". "I am afraid I do not totally understand," squeaked the Lady shoe,she also became a little bit dizzy from tumbling down," how can you forget time"?
"By dreaming",answered the white rabbit",just close your eyes and imagine something,for instance a landingplace,but pay attention to what you dream, because in High Hats dreams always come true".


Well,I was a bit lost in translation ,but what you have been reading was a little fragment from my book...The lost Shoes...(or something like that.)
Are High Hats magical..or are they dangerous dream catchers...

Goya ,and the Sad eyed Countess..

(please click to enlarge..)

I visited the Prado Museum im Madrid.There I was very much impressed by this painting of Goya..The Countess of Chinchon.
The countess was Charles IV's cousin, and Goya painted her first when she was a happy little child without a care. At 18, she was forced to marry Don Manuel Godoy, a shrewd provincial nobody whose seductive charms eventually made him lover to the Queen, favorite to the King, Duke of Alcudia and later Sueca, Prince of the Peace, Prime Minister—and the most hated man in Spain. The King was so fond of Godoy that he wanted him to be part of the family, and Godoy himself languidly wrote of his marriage: "I obeyed in this, as in all the acts of my life, with loyalty and submission." But what was merely a bore to the favorite was torture to his wife.

She knew of his affair with the bad-tempered Queen, for it was the talk of Europe. And there was also the rumor that Godoy had already been secretly married to another of his mistresses, Dona Josefa Tudo, known in the streets as Pepita, the flirtatious daughter of a penniless artillery officer. At public dinners Godoy scandalized even Madrid's jaded courtiers by forcing his wife to sit next to his mistress.

When the countess posed for Goya the second time, she was only 21, and the artist never treated a subject with more tenderness. As usual, he did not care about background—the person was his concern—and he painted her sitting in darkness, yet glowing with light, her pale hands gracefully folded in a shy attempt to conceal her first pregnancy. But what makes the picture unforgettable is the expression on the face—the exquisitely sad look of one whose life has been stolen and who knows that no one will give it back.

It was Napoleon who inadvertently ended her ordeal. Toppled from power after a series of disastrous defeats, nearly lynched by a mob, Godoy fled into exile, never to return. The countess lived on in Spain with at least one consoling memory.

It was of the night that the mobs came to loot her husband's house. When they saw her, they paused long enough to lead her gently out of harm's way, remembering that she at least was innocent as well as royal, though married to the man they called El Charicero—the Sausage-Maker.


Historical note: in the 17th century A Countess of Chinchón(living in Peru) fell ill with malaria. Natives cured her using an extract derived from the bark of a local tree. Sold on the benefits of the medicine she brought the tree back to Europe, where Linnaeus, the famous Swedish botanist, named it chinchona in her honour. We now know this medicine as quinine

Backwards..

"I insert here a letter of Jane Austen's written backwards, addressed to her niece 'Cassy,' daughter of Captain Charles Austen (afterwards Admiral), when a little girl.

YM RAED YSSAC,
I hsiw uoy a yppah wen raey. Ruoy xis snisuoc emac ereh yadretsey, dna dah hcae a eceip of ekac. Siht si elttil Yssac's yadhtrib, dna ehs si eerht sraey dlo. Knarf sah nugeb gninrael Nital. Ew deef eht Nibor yreve gninrom. Yllas netfo seriuqne retfa uoy. Yllas Mahneb sah tog a wen neerg nwog. Teirrah Thgink semoc yreve yad ot daer ot Tnua Ardnassac. Doog eyb, ym raed Yssac.
Tnua Ardnassac sdnes reh tseb evol, dna os ew od lla.
Ruoy etanoitceffa Tnua, ENAJ NETSUA"

sixty minutes

C. S. Lewis:
The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.

iiits (a rainy) Monday..

Great day for a walk with the one you love....

This is a picture from my most favorite movie ever...Breakfast at Tiffany's!

Reflect..

In a far away place...at home.
Happy to be back...hope you all are well my dear friends..see you Sunday..