Mockingbird Hill Cottage — Page 1534 — Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Fairies in the Trees

March 24, 2012 at 2:35 pm by Claudia

e have lots of wild roses all over the edges of our property. I call them brambles, but they are technically wild roses. For the most part the pricky roses and I get along, but today found Don and I outside cutting down the ones that are growing around our Catalpa tree. I managed to get pricked countless times – oh my aching body!

As we were finishing up, Don looked at the base of the tree and a piece of bark that was on the ground and had an idea.

Next thing I knew, we were drawing a little window and adding a stone doorknob.

I’m going to make a twig chair or bench that will sit just outside the door.

My husband has a wonderful sense of whimsy.

Postcards from New York

March 23, 2012 at 4:08 pm by Claudia

Another quick trip into the city today for a coaching gig, which required a wake-up time of 5 AM. I don’t do 5 AM very well. I thought I’d share some photos courtesy of the iPhone.

Coffee and the New York Times Crossword Puzzle. Always tricky on a jiggly bus ride.

At this point, we’re in New Jersey on our way into the city and that’s the Manhattan skyline off in the distance.

The trees are blooming – what an early Spring we’re having!

More beauty.

The woman I’m working with has an office right by Madison Square Garden.

And it’s also close to Macy’s.

After our appointment, I headed back toward the Port Authority Bus Terminal, which is in the Theater District/Times Square. I cut through the garment district. That’s Daytona Braids and Trimming where I get my Embroidery Floss. (I confess: I cut through the Garment District in order to buy a cupcake from Crumbs Bakery.)

My favorite newspaper and, even more importantly, my favorite crossword puzzle source. You can see the Port Authority Terminal reflected in the glass.

And there’s the Port Authority, where I catch the bus back home.

I love New York and I’d like nothing better than to spend the day there, but alas, I had to get back home. I’ll try to grab more photos during my next 2 visits.

It was a gorgeous day, by the way, with the temperature in the 70’s. However, colder weather and rain are coming.

One day I’m picking up rocks, digging for more rocks, dumping rocks, leveling dirt – the next day I’m in Manhattan. Tomorrow? Back to hard labor.

The Milkman & the Eggman

March 22, 2012 at 10:56 am by Claudia

Elizabeth and Bob are in their new home.

They seem to be content with the arrangement. Now you can get a good idea of their petite size in relation to the other happy couples. I look forward to finding more newlyweds for my collection.

Yesterday’s post elicited so many wonderful comments. I’ve loved reading your memories of childhood. It seems as if we all enjoyed hours of imaginative play outside, no matter where in the country we grew up. And yes, I also had to be in when the streetlights went on. Since there was a streetlight on the edge of our lot, I had no excuse. Those summers seemed endless, in the best possible way. Long days full of adventure, evenings on the porch….heaven.

One commenter mentioned the milkman. Did you have a milkman? We did.

Here’s an interesting thing about my childhood bungalow home. These homes were all built in the early 1950’s and each of them had a little door built into the outside wall of the house. The door measured about 12 inches square – maybe a little bit bigger. It was called a milkchute. The door opened to reveal a little shelf and another door on the other side. Inside our kitchen, the door was at floor level. The milkman would come to our house, open the outside door and leave our milk there. Later, we would open our door from inside the house and find that our milk had been delivered.

The milkchute also doubled as emergency access to the house. I can’t tell you how many times we were locked out and dad or mom would say “Looks like you have to go into the milkchute” and one of us would be lifted up and sent into the milkchute, head first. After wriggling our way inside, we’d go unlock the door.

Did anyone else have milkchutes?

We also had an eggman. I remember him so clearly – a man of few words, always whistling, always happy. He’d knock on the front door and mom would let him into the living room. He had a basket full of eggs from his farm and mom would pick out the eggs she wanted, putting them into a large melamine bowl. The eggman would give her change from a leather pouch that he wore around his waist. I wish I could remember his name! I can see him so clearly, all these many years later.

A simpler time, wasn’t it?

Fairies in the Trees

Postcards from New York

The Milkman & the Eggman

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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