// my happy spot //

as I type this, nostalgia washes over me, and so many fond memories buried within my childhood are revived anew. I have not been there in over three years time, yet if I close my eyes hard enough, the image imprinted within my mind vividly swims before me...

past deserts and towering snow-capped peaks, there lies a valley filled with both light and shadow, granite domes and silky meadows - opposites amalgamated in perfect harmony to create a secluded retreat of awe-inspiring nature. now within this valley of light and shadow, below a canopy of the velvety tips of wispy pines an alcove lies between granite walls streaked with tears and worn with age, once untouched by human eyes...

the mid-august heat crept up my back as I pedaled down the dusty lane. dried pine needles crunched under my bicycle's wheel - the scent filling my nostrils. my legs grew heavy pedaling up the slope, ah! but then a sound my heart longed for tickled my ears. in the distance it was but a whisper, a murmur of something that reminded me of mist - muffled, airy, ethereal. yet, when I approached closer, it thundered. I veered onto a trail that grew narrower into a clump of trees - the path only a strand of thread weaving in and out of the greenery, twice over wooden bridges, and finally it stopped. my happy spot. relief washes over me, as I see the river coming fully into view, chattering over a bed of rainbow. the pebbles, flecked with granite, sparkling in the afternoon sun, and I eagerly dipped into the crystal waters. the stream's current rushes beneath me - the foam glittering like delicate lace. my heart beats to the rhythm of the water's thundering, and excitement trills within me when I see a little pool under a canopy of silvery beech trees. the warmth of the granite boulder is much welcomed from the crisp dip in the icy waters, and I sun my hair in the afternoon sunshine, spilling through the branches. gingerly, I touch the quiet pool, staring into its violet depths.           

I am surrounded by the bird's melodious chirping, the sparkle of the midnight waters, and the bluest of skies above. granite walls enrapture me, and the moss-covered trees of old bend down to whisper their secrets. I have stepped into a sanctuary of both light and shadow, rock and water - I have stepped into my happy place forever locked into my heart. 

what is your happy place? 

lovingly,

the keeper of the garden.

[photographs via pinterest] 

     

giving all my secrets away // love that overcomes.

this is going to be one of those posts where I will not use fancy words {in which you have to fetch your dictionaries} or descriptive adjectives, but will attempt to write my feelings as bluntly and as accurately as possible. I do not believe it is in my ability to write exactly what I am feeling, but I hope that it will encourage you on your walk heavenward. 

sometimes, my emotions become jumbled and mashed together that at points in the day I sway from feeling hurt and depressed to angry and disappointed. confusion sweeps over me and the line between what my mind thinks and what my heart feels becomes even more distinct. I suppose that comes with being a female, but sometimes no matter what I say or think aloud, or what anybody else tells me, it never puts my aching heart at ease.    

when things don't go the way I should like with people, sometimes I wonder if it's my fault. I invest so much love, time, and effort into a relationship, and people disappoint me, leaving me to wonder: will you be there for me tomorrow? will you give me your shoulder for me to shed a tear? it stings miserably when people slough you - I know, I've been there. I am there. I don't want to be that person. I always want to be there for you, but sometimes it hurts when you throw that love back in my face.

that's not true love, though. true Love is something that does not waver. it's unselfish. it never fears. it never fails. Love is something that does not matter if it is returned. yes, there is pain and tears - and sometimes little comfort - but Love looks beyond the pain, faults, and the injustice. Love steadily moves forward.  

indeed, 'tis easier to love someone who loves in return, but remember what Christ took upon Himself, all in the act of love. a deep powerful Love from the beginning of time that chose to be mocked, whipped, bruised, spit upon, shunned, buffeted all for our sake. a deep and powerful Love we but little deserve and can little comprehend. every offense I feel little compares to what Christ endured, yet He still cares and understands and loves me. for being me.  

if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.   

{John 4:11} 

Love: so simple, yet so hard. :)

xoxo,
the girl in the garden. 

a very sweet post.

oranges + chocolate = chocolate orangettes 

I have commented in the past that I eat way too much sugar. well, here is one of those moments I give into my sweet tooth. the farmer's market has been good to us by providing sweet n' juicy oranges as of late {there's nothing as lovely as sitting out-of-doors eating a sweet orange}, and our family has been consuming them like candy. after reading the clever Miss Hannah's post published a few months past, I decided {as we had a lovely store of oranges and chocolate} to try my hand at making the delightful treats...

I do admit, I was a bit wary when making this recipe as I am not the hugest fan of oranges and chocolate flavors. one of the only candies that I will eat involving this chocolate/orange combination are the jelly-like sweets sold at Trader Joes. these turned out better!!! with its slight crunch from the sugared orange peel and a dreamy dark chocolate coating, this treat definitely satisfies my sweet tooth.

     

this recipe was incredibly easy {although, I was beginning to worry as the orange peels did not smell very good during the cooking process}, but the orange peels - once sugared - must sit for over 8 hrs., thus I made them after dinner and set them overnight, dipping them in chocolate the next morning and freezing them for a few minutes. 

now, off to attack the freezer again. 

hope all you lovelies are having a delightful Saturday afternoon! a real post shall be published shortly. 

xoxo,

the keeper of the garden.  

the beauty of tomorrow.

life. I sit here day-after-day and type out my aspirations, my loves, my desires, my dreams - my life. after the sparking of my revolution, I attempt to pen the true and honest musings of my heart in my writings, yet times like this, it slips through my fingers. life goes by, time flits away quietly. I don't expect anything of great excitement to come to past, but I do not know what I am expecting at all. my ambition in blogging is to be honest to you and the person God made me to be, but life at the moment seems unreal, faraway. dreams fade, inspiration dwindles. and some posts cannot be cheerful and "picture perfect" as most are.                                                                                              

it rains outside. I often forget. some days must be dark and dreary. life isn't perfect. it's beautiful - indeed, there are so many beautiful details in this everyday life. but it's definitely not perfect.    

I hate change - transitions seem to shake the very core of my being. yet they seem inescapable. people change, my heart breaks. life changes, my mind swirls. the world seems to grow dim. busyness becomes a constant companion and turns into an enemy. life feel like mere motions. I am exhausted by going through them and want to cry, but I have no more tears to shed. and the quiet moments hurt the most.  

joy comes in the morning. but God is always there. through times like this I know HE is drawing me nearer to Him. I just have to keep my head up, and wait for tomorrow.    

“Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”

~Anne Shirley 

thank you so much for your prayers! they are much appreciated.   

xoxo,

the girl waiting for the morrow in the garden. 

[photographs via pinterest]

to the Grace who often forgets

{all "collected" from pinterest} 

xoxo,

the girl in the garden. 

postscript ~ just a quick prayer request. things have been changing a bit, I suppose you could say, and I need to let go. let go of things from the past and view the future joyfully. perhaps, I can put it to words someday. :)   

a whiff of summer // apostrophe to lavender.

there are certain scents that - even one simple whiff of them - evoke powerful memories and captivating reveries. my scent is: lavender.  

potent and spicy, with a hint of sweetness. but 'tis not only the distinct scent with which awakens my summertime dreams, but the lovely purple beauty - the beauty with which can brighten any grey, and accentuate any pinkness. the little bud of summertime which enraptures the pureness of a twilight evening.   

"God gave His children memory that, in life's garden, there might be june roses in december..."

what scent transports you? 

je taime, 

the girl in the garden dreaming of a lavender field. 

reflection // why I write.

my pen lures me to the wooden desk. a blank sheet -- a bare canvas -- beckons me. my pensive mood must be satisfied, and I sit, writing desk before me, but frustration threatens to sweep.

 write. pen your heart's musings. let the words flow in cursive or typed script. just write. 

on many occasions, my old fashioned heart pines to write in eloquent speech, yet my hopeless mind cannot grasp the perfect word. my vocabulary meets its boundaries and so often times I feel inadequacy. my hopes are disheartened. I fall into a state of ennui. I covet dear friends who seems to present their thoughts with such fluency, such passion, and look upon my own with disdain. frustration overwhelms me.    

yet, then I realize I have lost focus on what writing truly reads to me. 

each artist must find their skill in any art. whether be painting, sketching, water-colouring, photographing, or  crafting --- every  artist  must  place  their  individual  mark  upon   their   work. even writers.    

"An idea, like a ghost ... must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself."

>>------> Charles Dickens

a writer's voice is penned through the words they use. they are the writer's tools, yet the heart is the source with which the voice is developed. a skill one must nurture and discover as time progresses...

yet, now we come to the question of "why do I write?" why do I invest so much of my time and passion into stringing words together to form sentences? why do I sit and endure the frustration that often times overcomes me to scribble a mere happen-stance or story? 

memories. like that of a photographer, my heart longs to capture memories that slip away so easily form my mind. stringing together beautiful sentences into a necklace of pearls, turning the drabbest of details into a pieces of art. capturing the emotion and charm of a thrilling moment in time. nurturing my ethereal dreams and creating something tangible that I might look upon and never forget. 

words are not merely words, but time capsules to which enrapture the moment. and unlike memories will never grow dim.      

lovingingly,
the girl writing in the garden. 
to be continued? 

[images via pinterest]

shall we dance? // english country dance DVD product review

{*disclaimer: not my image}

"to be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love..." 

~ jane austen 

when Garrett contacted me to inquire if I would be interested in reviewing his DVD on english dancing, I was delighted by the prospect of learning more information on country dance. the video itself was shipped out promptly and soon I was able to watch the wonderful world of English dance come to life. 

here's what Garrett says about this DVD...

As homeschoolers, many of us love studying about that span in history - from the eighteenth century up through the Civil War - which gave rise to so many great events and brilliant minds.  Most also enjoy the beautiful dances from that era.  With so much anti-family recreation out there, the old dances are a wonderful way to have good old fashioned fun!  Recently, I completed an instructional documentary that combines the beauty of the Civil War/Victorian era dances with my love for history.  This 30 minute film covers 6 period dances complete with step-by-step instructions, dance excerpts, and historical information on etiquette and customs of the day.  For pictures of the production process and screen shots of the finished product, visit the following site:

http://www.christianfilmmakers.org/forums/viewthread/9526/P10

If you'd like to purchase a copy of your own, you can email me directly {at gstowe@hughes.net} or visit my website www.repairingthebreachmedia.wordpress.com and click the Buy it Now button on the right hand side-bar.   The DVD  is $13 with free shipping and handling. Payment is accepted via check or PayPal (sorry, orders placed via my website are PayPal only - we appreciate your understanding).  Thanks so much for your interest.   ~Garrett Stowe 

this was a simply delightful DVD, showing step-by-step instructions, making the dances simple to understand for all ages. it was also filled with the history and origins of English dance as well as the proper etiquette {for young ladies and gentlemen alike} when attending an event. 'twas refreshing to see period dancing come make its appearance once again, and I cannot wait to introduce this to an acquaintance who organizes a rather large reenactment in our county.

for those who enjoy period dancing, this is a wonderful DVD for you! don a pretty gown and gather a few friends and family, put on some fiddle music, and re-live the world of an era gone by...

love always,

the girl dancing in the garden. 

postscript ~ special thanks to Garrett for allowing me to review this DVD! 

it drips like silk and flutters like a butterfly wings.

{^^SOOC shot^^} 

sunshine streaming. a gypsy breeze rustling. my heart beating wildly and free. springtime. 
branches overflowing with blossoms. petite little flowers drip from the tips of trees to the ground like pure white silk and flutter like butter fly wings. the snow-laden boughs daintily touch the blue sky like fairy wings.   oh, dear springtime! 

what makes your heart sing? is it the snow in the garden, or the snow on the trees?

with love,
the girl in the garden with flowers in her hair.

product review // dorothy jane.

To-day, I would like to feature a simply enchanting shop brimming with the most dainty little treasures, owned by a very sweet woman who makes delightful little delights with lots of love...

Etsy Shop //Website 

sweet "dody" not only generously sponsored a giveaway last month, but also sent me a set of four beautiful tags, perfect for celebration of spring...

the parcel was sent within splendid timing, and 'twas a delightful treat to find such in my little mailbox on a sunny, spring afternoon. dear dody wrapped the tags in a delicate cellophane bag topped with a paper doily and a blue tea-stained ribbon, taking care to wrap the tags properly so as not to bend during the shipping process. 

the owner manages a lovely shop filled with handmade products that are vintage, parisy, and inspired by jane austen and other works of literature. 

I highly recommend buying from shop dorothy jane because...

| her products are of good quality and very reasonably priced. 

| customer service is both sweet and prompt. 

| dody takes care to make sure that your order is safely packaged so that no harm comes to your goodies during the shipping process. 

special thanks to sweet dody for allowing me to do this product review. I shall definitely be purchasing from you in the future, and my tags I simply adore! {one I use on my inspiration board ;)}. 

blessings from the garden,

the keeper of the garden.