It's Sunday....errr Monday?
Guess I blew it again...Fully intended to get this posted on Sunday, but looking at the clock, it has been Monday for all of 35 minutes already!
I have to thank my friend AliKat from the UK for putting me to rights about how to get photos to work here...very simply, update my IE. Thank you Ali!
I have posted my Dream Weaver quilt, her name is Victoria, the Valentine Fairie of Love. Completing this quilt means that I can now add FGM to...after my name on the Fairie Goddess Mothers Yahoo Group site. I've been a member for over a year, and finally took the time to do Victoria. I had a bit of a problem in determining just how I was going to create her. The heart behind her along with the rose in the quilt is from an old pattern (quilting motif actually and not intended to be used as an applique pattern). I cannot even remember where I got the motif, but know that it was over 20 years ago, and I had plans to use it in a Center Medallion Quilt. I am glad I did not lose it, or toss it as I am sometimes prone to do. But as it was a heart, I am sure that is the reason I saved it. After finishing the quilt one of the requirements is to create a story about the fairie residing on the quilt. My first thoughts when I got the pattern after joining the FGM group was that I would name her Rosebud. But as I got into the quilting of this gem, her name all of a sudden did not seem right to me. Then I recalled a fairie tale that my father told me when I was a child. It was a nighttime ritual that he would tell all of my sisters and my brother and I a bedtime tale. I particularly liked it when dad would tell us stories he had heard as a child. His dad was a 2nd generation Irishman
and so many of the tales he remembered were of the wee folk, many of whom reside in Ireland according to him. Sometimes they were about the leprechan's while interesting, my favorites were when he would tell us fairie stories. He endowed me with a love of fairies from a very young age. I was convinced that the fairies controlled the seasons, with each season having very special meaning to them, and eventually to me as well. So I created my story, using my fathers words, but changing the actual name of the fairie he spoke of and the reason she was named so. I'd like to share it with you here....
Once upon a time, very long ago, at the edge of a copse of very tall trees, there lived a family of six members. The head of this family was a very wise man. He had roots to the old country and in the early hours of evening he would gather his family around him and would tell them of his life prior to meeting his wife and having children of his own. This family was made up of the father, the mother, and four children, three of them female and one male.
This family is mine, and this story is one that was passed to me by my father, who was of Irish persuasion. Many of his stories passed on to us were flavored by his Irish ancestry. Other stories centered around his great grand parents, one who was his great grandfather, Irish by birth, but married to an Iroquois maiden shortly after arriving on the soil of the new country he had adopted for his own.
I recall as a youngster of about 4 years of age a story my father shared with me of the fairies in the woods behind our home. Not all forested areas contained living little people, but our copse of trees, while sometimes seeming very fierce to me, also held much magic and wonderment. But you must believe to partake of that wonderment…on to the story told by my father…
One bright spring morning, as he walked through the copse of trees to gather berries for his breakfast, he happened to hear a sound that he recalled hearing when he was but a child himself…the tinkling of bells, but faintly, as if far in the distance. The berry picking was quickly abandoned to search out the source of this delightful sound… very quietly he moved through the trees, and soon approached a wonderful meadow, just beginning to bloom with tiny wild flowers, wood violets, he thought to himself. He felt the soft breeze of spring and within that breeze he felt the kiss of spring, and the aroma of something he had never smelled before to his recollection. This aroma was so intoxicating that he almost abandoned the search for the beautiful melodic tones he was now hearing quite clearly. As he followed a narrow pathway through the meadow the sounds became interspersed with laughter, he was certain there were people about in the forest, and as he searched for the source of what seemed to be a large gathering of folk, he heard also the weeping of a single child…He stopped and listened. Yes! It must be a child, someone who is lost and knows not that there are people around perhaps looking for this child. Although puzzled by the whimpering of a child, he wondered about the happiness that he could hear so clearly…
Determined to find out what the problem was that could cause this sound to shatter the peaceful morning, he decided to find this child and soothe its feelings so that it could also enjoy the day. He remembered his own father telling him that there are wee folk living amongst the trees, and generally how they would gather together in celebration of achievements each had made. Crouching down upon hand and knee, he searched amongst the leaves, and discovered there, across the way was a patch of mushrooms popping through the soil. The sound of the child was becoming stronger in that direction, and so he crept ever so quietly closer to the circle of mushrooms. Fairie Ring he thought to himself, his Da had told him about the fairie rings, and how they would arrive shortly after the soil had been danced upon by the fairies of the forest. These were fairly new, and he knew that there must be fairies about, and that must be the sound he was hearing as he approached this area. As he looked around, he spotted, seated beneath the largest mushroom a small child. Lying upon his belly, he inched forward until he was quite close to her. She had not noticed him yet and he thought to himself, why is this child whimpering so? As if he had spoken aloud the whimpering stopped and the child looked up to him asking “Who are you?” “I am called Mac by my friends” he responded. “What is your name?” he asked her back. Again the whimpering began and she sobbed out her words very hesitantly, “I do not know… today is the naming ceremony and I cannot think of a name that would suit me. I have given it much thought, and I cannot come up with a name that is suitable.” More whimpering began in earnest and he tried to reach out to her in his thoughts. She is so beautiful, he thought, such gorgeous eyes that flash when she speaks, and hair that is so long and wonderfully thick, she should have no reason to not be able to discover a name to fit her. She spoke again to him, saying “But my name must be such that it says to others what it is that I will do with my life.” “Well, we must find out what you are interested in,” he thought to her…”what do you like to do? What are your very favorite colors? There must be something about you that is so special that it will tell everyone what your name is!”
“I have a fondness for the colors of pink and red,” she answered him, and added “and I love flowers, especially the roses!” He noticed that she was wearing a beautiful pink jumper and a long skirt of a brighter shade of pink, her long, wavy brown hair blowing in the breeze. He could picture her sitting upon a full blown rose. “I believe this child will be very enchanting as she grows into her wings” he thought. Then he thought of his grandmother. She also has this beautiful shade of hair, and it is wavy just as hers is…and as he thought this, his grandmother’s vision appeared in his memory. The fairie interrupted his thoughts and she said to him, “What is your grandmother’s name?” “Victoria” he answered her. “How did she come by that name?” asked the fairie. “Her father named her that after the Queen of England” he thought. “Would it be ok for me to have her name as my own?” she asked him, and he noticed that the whimpering had stopped and as he gazed at her, he noticed that her wings were fluttering. “She would have been honored to know you, and I am sure she would like you to carry her name, but it is a strong name, you know. It comes from the Victorian era, when love was very much in vogue.”
“Oh, thank you so very much” she answered, “you have given me a wonderful name to carry and as well you have given me the idea that I could easily be the Fairie of the Victorian season of Love…when is that season?” Shocked that she could so easily rise up to be fluttering before his very eyes, he exclaimed aloud “Well I would think that would be almost any time of the year, for people fall in love all the time. You will be quite busy attending to all the love in the world!”
“But there must be a special time of year when love is expressed by all” she stated…”surely you must be able to tell me when that is.”
“Yes,” he said, “in February, after the winter snowfall has begun to disappear, there is a day, the 14th of February, when all celebrate what is known as Valentine’s Day. That day we express our love of others.”
“Well, then I will be Victoria, the Valentine Fairie of Love, and will be noted for the expression of love for others!” she responded. “I must be off now, for the naming ceremony is about to end and I do so need a name. Thank you so very much for your assistance, and I bestow upon you the most love that ever there was!”
As she rose up, he kneeled and watched her fly toward the sound of cheering. Then he heard as clearly as we hear one another speak to us, “Victoria! Victoria the Valentine Fairie of Love is presented to you!” and heard such cheering as you could never imagine. Smiling to himself, he retraced his steps and as he was returning home, he picked those berries, which seemed to ripen before his very eyes.
So there you have it! I do not think that dad would mind me using his story. And were he still here on earth, I am sure that he would have wonderful words of praise to speak to me about my quilt. He was my champion, and always told me that I had great possibilities and I would like to think that I have achieved at least a portion of his wishes for me.
Have a happy Monday to each and every one of you!
Till later...
I have to thank my friend AliKat from the UK for putting me to rights about how to get photos to work here...very simply, update my IE. Thank you Ali!
I have posted my Dream Weaver quilt, her name is Victoria, the Valentine Fairie of Love. Completing this quilt means that I can now add FGM to...after my name on the Fairie Goddess Mothers Yahoo Group site. I've been a member for over a year, and finally took the time to do Victoria. I had a bit of a problem in determining just how I was going to create her. The heart behind her along with the rose in the quilt is from an old pattern (quilting motif actually and not intended to be used as an applique pattern). I cannot even remember where I got the motif, but know that it was over 20 years ago, and I had plans to use it in a Center Medallion Quilt. I am glad I did not lose it, or toss it as I am sometimes prone to do. But as it was a heart, I am sure that is the reason I saved it. After finishing the quilt one of the requirements is to create a story about the fairie residing on the quilt. My first thoughts when I got the pattern after joining the FGM group was that I would name her Rosebud. But as I got into the quilting of this gem, her name all of a sudden did not seem right to me. Then I recalled a fairie tale that my father told me when I was a child. It was a nighttime ritual that he would tell all of my sisters and my brother and I a bedtime tale. I particularly liked it when dad would tell us stories he had heard as a child. His dad was a 2nd generation Irishman
and so many of the tales he remembered were of the wee folk, many of whom reside in Ireland according to him. Sometimes they were about the leprechan's while interesting, my favorites were when he would tell us fairie stories. He endowed me with a love of fairies from a very young age. I was convinced that the fairies controlled the seasons, with each season having very special meaning to them, and eventually to me as well. So I created my story, using my fathers words, but changing the actual name of the fairie he spoke of and the reason she was named so. I'd like to share it with you here....Once upon a time, very long ago, at the edge of a copse of very tall trees, there lived a family of six members. The head of this family was a very wise man. He had roots to the old country and in the early hours of evening he would gather his family around him and would tell them of his life prior to meeting his wife and having children of his own. This family was made up of the father, the mother, and four children, three of them female and one male.
This family is mine, and this story is one that was passed to me by my father, who was of Irish persuasion. Many of his stories passed on to us were flavored by his Irish ancestry. Other stories centered around his great grand parents, one who was his great grandfather, Irish by birth, but married to an Iroquois maiden shortly after arriving on the soil of the new country he had adopted for his own.
I recall as a youngster of about 4 years of age a story my father shared with me of the fairies in the woods behind our home. Not all forested areas contained living little people, but our copse of trees, while sometimes seeming very fierce to me, also held much magic and wonderment. But you must believe to partake of that wonderment…on to the story told by my father…
One bright spring morning, as he walked through the copse of trees to gather berries for his breakfast, he happened to hear a sound that he recalled hearing when he was but a child himself…the tinkling of bells, but faintly, as if far in the distance. The berry picking was quickly abandoned to search out the source of this delightful sound… very quietly he moved through the trees, and soon approached a wonderful meadow, just beginning to bloom with tiny wild flowers, wood violets, he thought to himself. He felt the soft breeze of spring and within that breeze he felt the kiss of spring, and the aroma of something he had never smelled before to his recollection. This aroma was so intoxicating that he almost abandoned the search for the beautiful melodic tones he was now hearing quite clearly. As he followed a narrow pathway through the meadow the sounds became interspersed with laughter, he was certain there were people about in the forest, and as he searched for the source of what seemed to be a large gathering of folk, he heard also the weeping of a single child…He stopped and listened. Yes! It must be a child, someone who is lost and knows not that there are people around perhaps looking for this child. Although puzzled by the whimpering of a child, he wondered about the happiness that he could hear so clearly…
Determined to find out what the problem was that could cause this sound to shatter the peaceful morning, he decided to find this child and soothe its feelings so that it could also enjoy the day. He remembered his own father telling him that there are wee folk living amongst the trees, and generally how they would gather together in celebration of achievements each had made. Crouching down upon hand and knee, he searched amongst the leaves, and discovered there, across the way was a patch of mushrooms popping through the soil. The sound of the child was becoming stronger in that direction, and so he crept ever so quietly closer to the circle of mushrooms. Fairie Ring he thought to himself, his Da had told him about the fairie rings, and how they would arrive shortly after the soil had been danced upon by the fairies of the forest. These were fairly new, and he knew that there must be fairies about, and that must be the sound he was hearing as he approached this area. As he looked around, he spotted, seated beneath the largest mushroom a small child. Lying upon his belly, he inched forward until he was quite close to her. She had not noticed him yet and he thought to himself, why is this child whimpering so? As if he had spoken aloud the whimpering stopped and the child looked up to him asking “Who are you?” “I am called Mac by my friends” he responded. “What is your name?” he asked her back. Again the whimpering began and she sobbed out her words very hesitantly, “I do not know… today is the naming ceremony and I cannot think of a name that would suit me. I have given it much thought, and I cannot come up with a name that is suitable.” More whimpering began in earnest and he tried to reach out to her in his thoughts. She is so beautiful, he thought, such gorgeous eyes that flash when she speaks, and hair that is so long and wonderfully thick, she should have no reason to not be able to discover a name to fit her. She spoke again to him, saying “But my name must be such that it says to others what it is that I will do with my life.” “Well, we must find out what you are interested in,” he thought to her…”what do you like to do? What are your very favorite colors? There must be something about you that is so special that it will tell everyone what your name is!”
“I have a fondness for the colors of pink and red,” she answered him, and added “and I love flowers, especially the roses!” He noticed that she was wearing a beautiful pink jumper and a long skirt of a brighter shade of pink, her long, wavy brown hair blowing in the breeze. He could picture her sitting upon a full blown rose. “I believe this child will be very enchanting as she grows into her wings” he thought. Then he thought of his grandmother. She also has this beautiful shade of hair, and it is wavy just as hers is…and as he thought this, his grandmother’s vision appeared in his memory. The fairie interrupted his thoughts and she said to him, “What is your grandmother’s name?” “Victoria” he answered her. “How did she come by that name?” asked the fairie. “Her father named her that after the Queen of England” he thought. “Would it be ok for me to have her name as my own?” she asked him, and he noticed that the whimpering had stopped and as he gazed at her, he noticed that her wings were fluttering. “She would have been honored to know you, and I am sure she would like you to carry her name, but it is a strong name, you know. It comes from the Victorian era, when love was very much in vogue.”
“Oh, thank you so very much” she answered, “you have given me a wonderful name to carry and as well you have given me the idea that I could easily be the Fairie of the Victorian season of Love…when is that season?” Shocked that she could so easily rise up to be fluttering before his very eyes, he exclaimed aloud “Well I would think that would be almost any time of the year, for people fall in love all the time. You will be quite busy attending to all the love in the world!”
“But there must be a special time of year when love is expressed by all” she stated…”surely you must be able to tell me when that is.”
“Yes,” he said, “in February, after the winter snowfall has begun to disappear, there is a day, the 14th of February, when all celebrate what is known as Valentine’s Day. That day we express our love of others.”
“Well, then I will be Victoria, the Valentine Fairie of Love, and will be noted for the expression of love for others!” she responded. “I must be off now, for the naming ceremony is about to end and I do so need a name. Thank you so very much for your assistance, and I bestow upon you the most love that ever there was!”
As she rose up, he kneeled and watched her fly toward the sound of cheering. Then he heard as clearly as we hear one another speak to us, “Victoria! Victoria the Valentine Fairie of Love is presented to you!” and heard such cheering as you could never imagine. Smiling to himself, he retraced his steps and as he was returning home, he picked those berries, which seemed to ripen before his very eyes.
So there you have it! I do not think that dad would mind me using his story. And were he still here on earth, I am sure that he would have wonderful words of praise to speak to me about my quilt. He was my champion, and always told me that I had great possibilities and I would like to think that I have achieved at least a portion of his wishes for me.
Have a happy Monday to each and every one of you!
Till later...
posted by bits N pieces at 12:41 AM
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