11th March 2012

I have just been standing on a large patch of sticky puddled earth where presently a Fairies house will stand. A sycamore, recently felled is now steadfast again at its centre, buried deep into the ground. Sixteen sturdy poles stand guard about it. Floor and walls, windows and door will by and by be constructed before all is hidden beneath a hill upon which wild thyme and marjoram will flourish. Butterflies will nectar there, hares will hurry by and nibble on the sweet grasses, children will play, and all the while fairies will abide secretly beneath their roots... their paws... their feet.

 A fantastical boast indeed, some may choose to disbelieve me, but I have truly stood upon this ground... and what's more, I'll stand my ground against anyone who diffides me... I'd simply invite them to come and stand beside me!

There is certainly magic here, though unlike the footings of the fairy house, I couldn't share it with anyone of a doubting disposition, they simply wouldn't see it; it wouldn't be tangible to them. To see 'magic' you need a certain twinkle in your eye. All children are born with it, though sadly many grow out of it...twinkling that is. Instead they grow to see things from a more 'grown up perspective', which really can be rather dull... not twinkly at all!

 As a child my play time sparkled with imagination, all kinds of fantastical creatures took shape there; fairies and giants unicorns and other creatures so extraordinary that perhaps I am the only one to have ever seen them. I must concede that growing up, even my belief in magic wavered from time to time. “It's only pretend”, grandma would say... granddad, mum and dad invariably followed suit. My big brother seemed to take particular delight in this casual quest to disillusion... he head up rumours that Father Christmas wasn't real and fairies didn't really exist. But there was always a glimmer of hope in my heart, a twinkle in my eye that distracted me from this grown up outlook and enabled me to continue to see magical things. Sadly most grown ups(...some as young as eleven or twelve) stop looking with a sense of wonder, barely even noticing much that is beautiful and real never mind magical.

2012

Well, having not 'blogged'for sometime I thought I would begin blogging again with a boast! I was to begin: 'I have just taken the final stitch in an Orange tip study, resolving my commitment to the publishers to provide an extra 'something' for page 86 of my soon to be published book; 'The art of embroidered butterflies'. Alas my tiny handmade needle has suddenly, as if by magic disappeared. That will teach me for having a pre-emptively clever thought! I've been peering at my studio floor for the last half an hour now, not very enlightening. I've swept and I've fussed in all the corners... I've even disturbed my poor innocently snoozing cat to look accusatively in the folds of her favourite blanket... no joy! So there will be no boasting here, just an acceptance of my fallibility and the reality that tomorrow is another day... another appropriate old saying would be 'pride comes before a fall!'

There is magic all about me as I sit here in my studio, set as it is on the edge of our field, for work is now under way to transform it into an enchanted garden... we even have a fairy house (or Sidhe) well under construction. Having deliberated over such a transformation; from field to butterfly haven, for years and consulted with the most magical of friends we now have a master plan for: “Cerridwens Enchanted Garden”. Watch this space!