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Sunday, January 05, 2014

Twelfth Night

Here are some more ornaments, this time for Richelle Hawks, bead sweeper at Shipwreck Dandy. She saw the prior batch and told me that she would make me an ornament for next year, so this is especially for her--and for you, if you like such things. She is the queen of "handmade rustic assemblage jewelry."

Our Norway spruce will probably stay up until my husband is back from Kyrgyzstan, as I have (alas) a tree allergy that makes spruce-wrestling problematic. Shall be needles-on-floor galore by then! Some people say it is unlucky to leave the tree up past Epiphany eve, but I say it is unlucky to turn as red as a summer tomato...

And here's a bit of poetry for separated loves and twelfth night, that merrymaking time at the end of the Christmas season:

O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 
O stay and hear: your true-love's coming, 
That can sing both high and low: 
Trip no further, pretty sweeting; 
Journeys end in lovers' meeting, 
Every wise man’s son doth know.
  --Feste, scene iii, Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

A merry Twelfth Night to you!


  1. Marly, you have some truly gorgeous ornaments! Hard to choose a favorite, but that pumpkinface scarecrow man is really nice. And the ship in the first photo & heart above it. Your tree is magic! Ornament(s) I make for you will be lucky.

  2. A mermaid!
    Perfect and I love that.

  3. Richelle,

    Glad you liked them--I was looking for the sun to go with the crescent moon and star from Bill and Janet Rigby's antique molds, as I thought you'd like to see the local ones, but it must be hidden deep in the tree.

    The ship and the little cone-shaped basket are by the same people, using antique papers, and there's another one, somewhere... can't think what it is at the moment.

    We used to have a lot of antique ones, but lost a bunch in a tree fall.


    Floating in the green combers...

  4. Forgot to say thank you again for that thought, Richelle--you mentioned on the fb link that you had made some this year. Did you take pictures?

    And were they "rusticated" and related to your earrings and jewelry? You could have a new line in your Etsy shop!

  5. I do so love glass baubles. All the sensory elements of the season are conjured in them: the glimmer and sparkle, the fragility, the tastes of chocolate and Turkish delight and sticky dates. The roughness of glitter under the fingertips and the smell of the pine forest in the room where the tree has been raised. The boiled-sweet glimmer of coloured bulbs and the crackle of parcels piled beneath them. Your photographs are wonderful. I swoon with pleasure.

  6. And what's not to love about a demure glass mermaid with blush cheeks and a tail as green as envy?

  7. I stupidly did not take photos. They're all at our friends' farm though, so next time we go I will get pictures. I made them using the same type of materials I use in my jewelry, and then some. It was really fun and liberating albeit strange in a sense--to not really have to consider the final product in relation to the body. As was making them, and it was all moving along so quickly and nicely, I wondered why I hadn't thought about making/selling them before. Definitely in the cards.

  8. Clive,

    Once again I'm thinking that you ought to write a book! In your spare moments, of course! I'm glad you liked them, though the good camera is off in Istanbul and soon to fly off to Bishkek.

  9. Richelle,

    Yes, do take some! Tell them not to put the ornaments up in the attic.

    One of a kind ornaments--you will have to branch out. I can do a post on them well before Christmas if you like. Interested to see what you have done...

  10. You didn't need the good camera. the occasional fuzziness just adds to the slightly tipsy soft focus that comes with the mulled wine and the fine sherry! (-;

    Write a book? Oh my. I shall leave that to the expert. (YOU!) Anything I wrote would be a poor shadow of a thing. I'll stick to puppets and painting, and spend my time making pretty covers for the real McCoy!


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.