Spring!

All of that wind and rain and hail couldn't dampen the spirit of my Grandma's violets. When it's time to bloom, it's time to bloom. Just makes me happy all over. :)

A little bit of beauty

Every time I catch some bug {not of the garden variety, I generally leave those to the boys}, and have time to sit and ponder, my mind wanders off to the river where I like to hike. The very first day that I was able, Elizabeth and her children accompanied me on a picnic there. We had the bestest time!

Whilst Christian and I carried the quilts to the shady spot, we happened across this beautiful little hatched egg! Okay, you know me . . . in my book, the day had just reached perfection! It continued on that vein, by the way . . . but those are Elizabeth's photos and stories to tell . . .

While I recovered . . . these are a few of the things that occupied my time . . . {the pen belonged to Mark's Grandmother. I've mentioned her before, as recently as Easter . . . she was born in 1898.}

Don't you love the opalescence in this old ink bottle? It is my absolute favorite, and today it holds a posy of my Grandmother's violets.

Do you like the spool photo holders? I've made them for an upcoming antiques event. {If I can bring myself to part with them . . .} I learned from Joan at Anything Goes Here! You should check her tutorial!

Finally! I have projects on deck! I've been working on the coolest swap, which inspired me to host one of my own . . . It is gonna be so much fun! More to come, soon! I promise!

~ much love!

The first thing I did this morning . . .

. . . before I even put the kettle on . . .
was pick a posy of violets to share with you!

~wishing your morning is all flowery and beautiful, too!

More Violets

The Dog Violet Fairy

Cecily Mary Barker

I dropped in to Main Street Antiques in Turlock last week. My friend Betty Sue has a booth there. You see that I was unable to resist more violets. I am such a sucker for them. Don't try to tell me that they wouldn't have found their way home with you if you had seen them first! These were mailed in 1910 and 1911. Think of that. Do you suppose anything we send now will be worth saving in a hundred years?

. . . Oh, and you should see what I bought from Betty Sue! Maybe I'll just tease you, and maybe I'll take more pictures . . . You should definitely stop in!

Don't you just love the wax seal and ribbon on this one? It was intended and expected to be cherished. And someone did just that. Such a nice thought.

When I posted the photo of my first violets of the year a couple weeks ago, I actually did a little research, and just couldn't waste it, thinking, naturally, that you were probably going to need it. :)

A Little Violet Lore
Courtesy of the American Violet Society

Violet Magic :

A garland of violets around the neck protects from deception and inebriation.

Used in love philters and spells, it restores health after a long illness.

If you are given violets plants as a gift, it's very auspicious. If this gift comes from your lover, the better.

When violets bloom in the fall, they mean to warn us about imminent dangers.

When violets appear in your dreams, fortune is not too long away.

Dreaming Violets? A Violet in your Dreams.... You will marry someone younger than yourself!

I see that dreaming of violets has two meanings. You will marry someone younger, and fortune is not too long away. They both do sound pretty dreamy, I suppose. :)

Want to know more about Violets?

The American Violet Society

The Heartease Fairy
Cecily Mary Barker

Antique engraving, compliments of Diane Knott's Musings

Violets

Violets are the sweetest, simplest flowers. They are unassuming. You don't hear romantic banter peppered with the word, 'violet', and they aren't generally sent as tokens of love, but have you ever picked a bouquet of violets? Have you ever inhaled their delicious aroma? Have you ever set a tiny bouquet on your bedside table to breathe in the loveliness?

You know of the nosegays that delicate ladies carried in the days of yore to ward off, shall we say, the unpleasant scents of civilization. Remember Eliza Doolittle and her little violet bouquets? If you could just inhale a violets lovely fragrance, you would wish to carry a little tussie mussie with you simply for the romantic notion.

When I had my store, I carried little silver vase brooches . . . sigh . . . people just didn't get my vision. I still have my little brooch/vase and certainly do my part to keep the old tradition alive.

The violets in my yard were starts from my Grandmother. Grandma is 98 now, and very often we can be heard discussing her violets {Truly, when the topic isn't quilting.} She moved to California after WWII, and brought her beloved violets with her. She says they originally came from a hog pen. They have made several other stops along the way in order to find their way into my flower bed. And I love that. I love that the flowers have history. There is so little history in our homes, and especially our gardens, any more. We have such a tendency toward trendiness.


And I love to share my violets. I will give starts to anyone that appears interested, and especially, I try to make certain that any of Grandma's grandchildren that want any have them!

I worked in a little French boutique for a couple of years. When my violets were blooming, I would cut a little bouquet a day, put them in the prettiest little vase or bottle that we had, with a little tuft of ribbon around the neck, and someone would have to have that vase before the day was through. . . ."and I can have the violets, too, can't I"? I did the same in my shop . . .{another sigh} . . .

According to "The Language of Flowers", the meaning of blue violets is Faithfulness. It does seem apropos. They are the most modest, unassuming and faithful flowers, returning late every winter to assure you that the world still has loveliness buried deep inside, waiting for warmer days.

The Violet

Down in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colour bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.

Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.

Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.

Jane Taylor
{1783 - 1824}