A Year and a Word

We woke up yesterday to find our  backyard blanketed in many more inches of snow than we had expected.  It was the thick, heavy snow that bends small trees to the ground and breaks off large limbs from the great white pines.  It also temporarily turns our funny little garden shed into an enchanted fairy tale cottage.  

Earlier in the week we'd walked the icy trails at Gilsland Farm, seeking quiet amidst the chaos of the season.  This year's holidays have felt even more tumultuous than usual.  I think the news of the world after this long, often terrible, year has left many of us exhausted.

In the face of unrest and suffering in the world, I've found myself turning more and more to the wintery landscapes and seascapes of my home state for solace.  It's there in the bone-colored branches of birches, the grey ocean waves laced with white, and the dry tufts of frozen grass in open fields that I look for the escape my heart longs for.

I haven't become a complete hermit, I promise.  I welcome the cries of seagulls as I walk the cobblestoned streets of Portland, the rush of winter robins' wings overhead in the trees, and the laughter of school kids swooping down hillsides on makeshift sleds.

And the companionship of loved ones.  I'm not always up for talking these days, but I am almost always up for a walk, and a shared cup of something warm when we return home.

Choosing my word for 2017 was easy.  I didn't even think about it.  I just knew: peace.  That's all I hope for this year.  Peace for those I love, for myself, and for the world.  Over the summer I taught myself how to play ukulele, and one of the first songs I learned how to play was John Lennon's "Imagine."  As I learned the chords and gradually discovered how to weave the words in as I played, I found myself experiencing the song in a new way.  I've always loved the lyrics, but each time I now come to "Imagine all the people, living life in peace," I feel it so strongly that I often have to stop playing for a few moments.  Peace is what I hope for, for me and for you, my friends.  I will do my best to help make it happen in the tiny ways that I know how.  Wishing you a year of joyful adventures, truly funny moments, inspiration, love, and peace.  xo Gigi

Endings and Beginnings

Thinking of you this New Year's Eve.  I took this photo today on a very cold walk by the water at Gilsand Farm.  I heard the quote earlier in the year, and it has become one of my guiding principles.  

As we head into the new year, I hope you are safe and warm and near someone you love.  I wish you health, along with moments of peace and of joy.  May you find adventure and may you have the strength and support to face whatever challenges come your way.

Thank you, my friend, for visiting The Magpie's Fancy in 2014.  Looking forward to sharing inspiration with you in the coming year!

The Spirit of the Season

Hello, chickadees!  I hope you are having a beautiful weekend.  Here, we've had one of those sunny and crisp days that seem to happen only in December.  Mr. Magpie and I spent the morning at some neighborhood shops, searching out the last few treasures for stockings.  If you live anywhere near the Portland, Maine, area, may I recommend a few shops that I truly and deeply love?  I adore them for the items that they carry as well as for the incredible people who own and/or work at them.  They are a big part of what makes living in Portland a joy for me.  They're also great spots for last-minute holiday shopping . . . and then, after Christmas, they will be the perfect places to visit to find yourself a treat for the new year.  I'm not being paid for these endorsements; I just want to spread the word about these local businesses!  Several of them also have websites where you can order their unique products online.   

• Fiachcre ~ Beautiful gardening tools, unique potted plants, gorgeous terra cotta, soaps and candles, and so much more.  I think Mr. Magpie bought nearly all my Christmas presents here last year!  If you go, please tell Melissa I sent you.
• Portland Trading Company ~ Our good friend Kazeem has made his gorgeous store in the Old Port a true destination for custom-designed clothing, beautiful housewares, and many items that combine luxury and practicality--in other words, perfect gifts.  He also stocks hard-to-find lifestyle magazines and many locally-made goods.  
• The Honey Exchange ~ I never thought I'd shop at a honey store on a regular basis, but this place has so many wonderful products that I stop in often.  This is where I buy all my local honey and so much more, from candles to jewelry to toiletries and even wine and locally-made beer or mead.  They also carry beekeeping supplies. 
• Folly 101 ~ Most of my friends know that I have a bit of an obsession with this place.  If you need a hostess gift, this is the number one place to visit.  Also, if you lean towards Scandinavian decor with lots of white and natural wood, you will love the bright, airy feel of the store itself.  I feel at home as soon as I walk in the door.
• Treehouse Toys ~ This is the only toy store I go to, because it is always my first stop, and I always find the perfect gifts for little ones here.  I also don't want to leave once I'm inside.  It's a pretty magical place.
• Kurier ~ Beautiful handmade bags and accessories.  I love her designs and colors, as well as her ethos.  She also has an Etsy shop.
• Papier ~ Exquisite paper, stationery, pens, and cards.  This shop is my idea of heaven.  And now they also carry stunning fresh flowers and arrangements with Fleuriste.  Todd and I are regular customers here, and I can't speak highly enough about their excellent customer service.

These are just a few of my favorites.  I love getting the chance to share them here on the blog.  

I bought the lovely little fern and my paper white bulbs at Fiachre.

I'm nearly done with Christmas shopping and crafting; I've sent the packages and all but the last few cards; the guest room has been taken over by boxes and tissues and ribbons; the rest of the house is as decorated as it's going to get; tomorrow I begin my baking.  In other words, we are in full holiday mode around here.  I don't feel frenzied, though--just lucky that I'll get to see family and friends over Christmas and into the New Year.  

I'll be thinking of you tomorrow as we celebrate the solstice and begin the climb back to longer days.  I hope you are well and that each day brings you moments of joy and of peace as we head into the new year together.  

Home for the Holidays . . . and All Year Long

Hellebores on my father's antique desk in the dining room.  

I've been wanting to write an update about our house all fall, and I'm finally getting to it now, at the very time that Compass is running a series called Starter Stories, featuring bloggers posting about their first apartments, their starter homes, or the homes that gave them a fresh start.  Urban Compass is a very user-friendly real estate platform that connects folks looking for apartments in NYC with neighborhoods that suit their personality and preferences.   

The side table at night in the dining room this past fall.  

I'll share a photo later this week of it with the manger for Christmas.  

I'm excited to participate in the series, since we've lived in seven apartments, one loft condo, and three houses over the twenty-four years that we've been together, and I know a thing or two about the challenges and rewards of finding just the right place to call home--whether it's your first place or your eleventh!  And while this wee cottage is far from our starter home, it has definitely been our start-over home.  

Old books find their way into every room in the house.

As I've written about before, I believe that a place can save you, if you let it.  Mr. Magpie and I moved back here to Portland, Maine, after two decades of school and jobs had carried us off to distant places.  Returning to the city where we first met was probably the most important decision we've ever made for ourselves as individuals and as a couple.  We'd gone through a heartbreaking time in our lives, and we desperately needed to move and start fresh.  But we couldn't just sell our loft condo in Massachusetts, buy a house here in Maine, and be done with it.  The recession had dropped to its lowest point, and our condo's mortgage was under water.  Selling wasn't an option. So, like many other folks at the time, we rented the condo out to tenants, and then became tenants again ourselves.  After several years of being homeowners, it was a bit of an adjustment, but a necessary one if we wanted to live in Maine.

An autumn vignette in the living room

We rented here in Portland for a couple of years, saving our pennies and biding our time until we were finally able to buy our home in the summer of 2012.  It was actually a more exciting day to me than the day we bought our first home.  As some longtime readers know, during the first month after we moved in, we set to work right away, making this place our own.  One of the first things we did was to paint the rooms in shades inspired by the Maine coast.  In the two years since then we have expanded the gardens outside each summer, turning them into tumbling, colorful cottage gardens.

The Hobbit Garden in midsummer, with phlox, bee balm, Abraham Darby roses, lavender, salvia, and petunias blooming.

Scarlet runner beans and nasturtiums at the back door.  In the foreground is a Bridal veil spirea.

Looking from the spot where the Hobbit Garden (named for its curving wattle fence) transitions into the little woodland garden.  On the other side of the fence are our herb gardens and the patio.  The wild looking arbor is made from branches and this past summer it was covered in scarlet runner beans and sweet peas.

One corner of the herb garden ( taken in Fall 2013, while we were building the arbor)

As much as I love the gardens, I find myself also loving winter hibernation in this house.  The Christmas season never fails to stir the most domestic of feelings in my magpie heart.  As soon as the first snowflakes fall, I'm lighting a fire in the fireplace, baking shortbread, and stringing fairy lights in nearly every room.  I can't help myself.  

Christmas 2012

Our bedroom/sleeping loft

A few days ago we made our now annual trek to a local tree farm to cut down the Christmas tree. It was a blustery, frigid afternoon, and the muddy pathways between the trees were coated with a sheer slick of ice, so it was tricky to even get to the trees, let alone saw one down, but we managed, bringing home a smaller one than usual to fit into one corner of the living room.  

Late afternoon at Staples Tree Farm

I've also draped the mantle with fresh greens from the trees in our yard, tucking in pinecones that I've iced with silver glitter as well as the bird nests I've found on the ground over the last couple of autumns.  Our yard is home to many birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and other wild beasties, and we feed them seeds and water year round.  For Mr. Magpie and me, our home wouldn't be complete without the wild creatures outside as well as the wild ones inside (Scout and Dill, our tuxedo cats). 

A closeup of one of the nests on this year's holiday mantle.  I'll have more photos of the whole mantle and other decorations soon!

The kitchen windowsill at suppertime with a string of fabulous Starry Starry Lights

The tree is now up and decorated, but I've still got work to do.  There's the manger to finish, and the sparkling winter village.  The ever-thoughtful Mr. Magpie bought extra strings of fairy lights, so you know I'll be plugging them into every available outlet.  I think it's time to play some Christmas CDs and mull some apple cider.  The holidays equal home for me, and this year more than ever, I'll be grateful to start a new year in our little white cape beneath the great white pine.  

New Year's Poem

Tennyson wrote this poem more than a century ago, and its words seem as timely as ever.  Wishing you joy and peace in the new year.

In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells]
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
   The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
   For those that here we see no more;
   Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
   And ancient forms of party strife;
   Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
   The faithless coldness of the times;
   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
   The civic slander and the spite;
   Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
   Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
   Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
   Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Wishes

It is easy to tally the challenges and disappointments of a day.  Much harder it is to simply exist among its blessings, recognize its gifts.  The best gifts of this season are as simple as the paperwhite's bloom, as ethereal as its scent.  Here, where winter can be much longer than any other season, a single blossom is a small wish granted.  May your small wishes come true today and every day (for they are often much sweeter than the big ones), and may you always have the time to savor them.  

A Giveaway . . With Love and Thanks

The Magpie's Fancy will be two years old on February 26th!

More than 280 posts into this adventure, I am still delighted, moved, and awed every single day by the people I encounter and the talent I see on blogs all over the world.

Thank you for inspiring and challenging me, for encouraging my crazy ideas, offering support when I've been low, and for kicking me in the pants when I've needed it, too.  In the blog world we make amazing friends, often without ever meeting face-to-face.  As Archie Bunker once said, "I got a lotta best friends--some of 'em I don't hardly even know!"

To celebrate two years, I am hosting a giveaway.  Please leave a comment between now and noon EST, Friday, February 25th, to be in the running for the prize.  And what is that prize?  Well, in keeping with my magpie nature, it will be a collection of wonders and curiosities that I am gathering together.  It will include something that glitters, something to read, something handmade, something vintage, and any other delicious treats that capture my heart.

I will announce the winner on Saturday the 26th.  Please feel free to enter no matter where in the world you live, whether you're an old friend of The Magpie's Fancy or a brand new visitor.  I'm just happy that you all are out there, making magic, and I thank you from the bottom of my magpie heart.

xo Gigi

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

~Raymond Carver

Waking Up

"This terrifying world is not devoid of charms, 

of the mornings that make waking up worthwhile."

~Wislawa Szymborska

Hope you are having many such mornings this summer.  I am taking a short break from boxes and bubble wrap to check in.  One week to the move, and many details are falling into place while others just buzz around my head like nagging houseflies.  If I were a better blogger I'd be photographing the proper method of wrapping a Limoges set for transport or listing 25 creative ways to use up relish and other refrigerator condiments, but I am so not that blogger.  

Instead I'll tell you that I'm praying for a break in the heat before next weekend and that I am mostly excited--alternating with bouts of deep mood indigo and occasional swings into panic.  Ah, moving.  

By the way, the above photo is from a recent visit to my mother's house.  I woke up in my childhood bedroom one morning to see sunlight streaming in.  Contrary to how it may seem, I don't normally sleep with my camera, but it happened to be on the table beside me that morning, so I adjusted the settings and focus as best I could through bleary eyes, and snapped.  It's by no means a perfect photo, but it captures exactly how I felt that morning--and quite a bit of how I feel about returning to my home state to live after almost two decades away: nostalgic, hopeful, relieved, and a little disoriented.  Not quite Alice down the rabbit hole, but not exactly everyday reality either.

Wishing you a day of adventures and enticing charms.  

Happy Mother's Day!

Wandering in the gardens near the Old North Bridge in Concord, Massachusetts, on Friday, I found myself at various moments crawling under the rhododendrons, lying flat on my belly to photograph (and smell!) the lilies of the valley, and crouching among the dandelions and wild asters in the sunshine.  

Nose-to-nose with blossoms and grasses, I was transported to childhood, to the world of my mother's garden, and to afternoons spent building kingdoms among the rhododendron roots.  Dew-dropped in the morning, cool in the heat of day, lush and mysterious as the sun set, her garden was a world of scents and colors that helped me understand the importance of cultivating and nurturing beauty.

The tame world of the house was always only steps away, yet this was a wild place, a place where tiny flowers loomed large in my imagination.  I could imagine myself into a hundred lives, each one richer and more enticing than the last.

My mother gave me many gifts when I was growing up, among them her time, her patience, her laughter, and her sense of curiosity.  And she passed on to me a love for gardens.  This afternoon, as we walked in the garden of the house where I grew up in Maine, my mother and I talked about plans she has for transplanting a few shrubs and perennials, and for building a new stone wall around one bed.  A gardener's work, like a mother's, is never done, but there is always a little time for sitting in the cool green shade of a late afternoon, letting the scent of lilacs and lilies of the valley wash across the grass as a breeze rises--time to enjoy the feeling of a job well done.     

Happy Mother's Day, Mum!  

Thinking today of you, 

and of Grammy and Memere,

and all the women in our lives

whose understanding  and humor and care

taught us to grow wiser and stronger

and ever better 

with the passing of years. 

Thank you.

Love,

g

D is for Daisy

This sweet beaded daisy was given to me by my friend Marlowe.  I can't look at it without feeling hopeful.  I'm sending it out tonight to her with love and hope and wishes for sunnier days.

Birthday Girls

"We turn not older with years, but newer every day."

~Emily Dickinson

This is a magical week of birthdays.  First there was my niece Maddy's, now there is my friend Jackie's, and then there will be my sister Susan's.  Each one of them inspires me, makes me laugh, and makes me think, and so I wish them all many adventures and surprises of the best kind in the coming year.

May each week lead you to a new discovery and each day to a new joy.

xo Gigi

Beginnings

"For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning."

~T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

Best wishes to you as you make your ends and beginnings.  

Thank you for a beautiful year past 

and the promise of even more 

of your wit, sparkle, and inspiration in the year ahead.

xo Gigi

Thanks and Wishes

I have come to love my mailbox.  It seems each time I open it lately there's a surprise waiting inside.  It all began recently when the lovely Christina sent me a package full of treasures that were utterly and completely me, including one of her own original photographs and a little ticket with the word WISH printed on it.  I'm saving that ticket for a very special and particular wish.   I can't tell you what yet, but you'll be the first to know if & when it comes true.  

And do you remember my friend Eric , the amazing graphic designer?  He and his wife Carolyn sent me a copy of the Where the Wild Things Are film storybook, which you know I'll be using in my Children's Literature class this coming spring when I teach the book and, now, the movie, too.  Plus, Eric made me a card that I adore.  Art made by friends--sigh.

More recently, Kim from the wonderful blog A Box of Chocolates , knowing that I collect sea glass, sent me a tin of sea glass that she'd collected on the shores of Queensland, Australia.  So now my sea glass collection's gone global.  So cool.

This week I received a gorgeous box of goodies from my blogging pal Colette .  I'd won her giveaway , and what a giveaway it was, complete with some of her own beautiful photocards, a handmade Christmas ornament, a puzzle, and even a copy of Pippi Longstocking!!  She is one of my all-time favorite characters.  In fact, I dressed up as Pippi for Halloween in first grade, complete with coat hanger wires in my braids to make them stick out.

And my brilliant and creative friend Marlowe, who, like me, is a magpie of the most adamant kind, salvaged skeins and skeins of beautiful chenille yarn for me that someone was giving away at her dump's trade center.  She popped them all into a box and shipped them to me.  Free yarn that was just going to end up in a landfill--now that, I love.  I can't use it for the Knit-a-Square project, because they need wool yarn since it's more fire resistant, but you can bet I'll be whipping up some pretty, lacy, curly scarves for Christmas gifts!

I also received--well, this one Todd & I both received--the three lovely vases pictured above from one of my oldest and dearest friends, Jen, and her husband Ed.  The vases are handmade by Heath Ceramics in Sausalito, California, and they are completely and utterly us.  

I'm thinking of the day I opened up Christina's box of treasures.  My husband said, "Wow, she really gets you, doesn't she?"  Yes, indeed.  I have friends who notice the little things--a favorite color, a loved author, a collecting habit, or a hobby.  That kind of attention is a gift in itself.  In fact, if wishes are friends, then nearly all of my wishes have come true.

Just one more thing: thanks to blogging friends, old and new, for stopping by this week!  Hope you have a fabulous weekend!  xo