flax-golden tales: tiny love letter

tiny love letter

You can say anything with a Post-It.

I’m not entirely sure why that is.

Maybe the friendliness of the squares makes it easier. A square is nicely compact and less intimidating than a full page.

And they come in cheerful colors. Non-white paper is kind of inherently festive.

Or maybe paper that sticks feels more important than paper that can blow away.

(Though you can move them, if you need to put them somewhere else.)

They might not be as lasting as words carved in stone, but Post-It thoughts will stay.

For awhile, at least.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

psa

Will be on internet hiatus until Friday.

Am checking my e-mail if you need to reach me.

Here, have a bonus photo of Tessa getting in on the flower photo action:

solstice

A very summery solstice today, with the kitten flop-o-meter already at a fairly flopsy flop.

Busy weekend, with my cousin’s beautiful wedding on Saturday. Photos are of the gargantuan floral arrangement we got sent home with, lots more photos on Flickr. I divided them up to put into vases and now the entire apartment is covered in flowers.

Discovered at said wedding that lots of my relatives read my blog. (Hi!)

Last night the boy & I went on a spontaneous date, first just for ice cream shakes at Sonic and then we decided to see if we could catch Toy Story 3 while we were out. We had perfect timing showtime-wise, though our theatre was full of teenagers who were having difficulty mastering that whole no talking thing.

Originally, I wasn’t that enthused about TS3 even though I love Pixar. But then the reviews were so good that I got curious, and I’m really glad we went. It’s wonderful. And the short that plays with it, Day & Night, is absolutely brilliant.

Back to the land of flopsy kittens and revising for the week. We’ll see how long the flowers last in the heat.

flax-golden tales: restoration

restoration

My dad collects and restores these vintage machines, like a hobby. Maybe machine is the wrong word, they’re like, weird geeky contraptions you find outside supermarkets and at tourist attractions, gumball machines and those ones that squash pennies into miniature pictures of historical landmarks or whatever.

I can never tell what he does to change them, even though I’ve sat and watched him dismantle dozens of the things and then, um, remantle them again. He doesn’t add anything, not that I’ve seen.

But they’re all different once they’re working again. One of the gumball machines gives solid gold gumballs now. They’re rainbow at the top in the fishbowl-looking part, but the one that drops down after you put in your quarter is always solid, unchewable gold.

Gold gumballs I can deal with, but the latest penny-squashing thing takes your nice, normal penny and squashes it down into a printed copper oval that describes how you’re going to die.

I thought it was a joke until last week. Now I’m worried.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

flax-golden tales: poppets

poppets

You don’t get to choose your poppet. Some people like to say your poppet chooses you, but that’s silly. They’re just dolls, after all.

Matches between poppet and person are made by chance, not choice. You receive the poppet that you’re meant to have, because there are no other options.

Poppets are often returned. This is not what I expected, unsatisfied poppet recipients complain before they depart again, poppet-less.

But most are accepted gratefully, brought to their respective new homes and treated kindly. Given places to sit and kept away from dogs.

Happy poppets are the most effective.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.