February's Fair Maids

Good morning dear friends,

Rabbit Rabbit! February, my birth month and the month of love.

I had such a lovely day yesterday. My (soon to be) sister in law came to visit Scarlette Rose Cottage. It was my first visit; we had an entire pot of earl grey tea and filled our gills with biscuits. It's so lovely to have friends. I especially love and relate to Annie because she's a Pisces like me. I'm among mermaidens, my landlocked kind. Smile. I'm sure you understand I am invariably thinking about incorporating mermaids into my brand at every turn. Have I never actually told you outright why I named the little cottage Scarlette Rose? Sometimes I'm not sure what I write, as I'm always yapping at the jaw about something or nother and can't remember from one moment to the next what I've written and what I thought I wrote. Ya, know, because I self talk all day and think I've had conversations with folks when in fact, no, it was all in my waterlogged head. This landlocked life is a new sensation—wink wink. The point is, (mercy lawd, get to it dear sweet Raquel) Scarlette Rose is what I named the little storage building at my folks. I've been slowly turning it into an 1850's Victorian cottage after the mermaid character in my storybook, The Tale of Merrymaid Scarlette Rose. If you recall, when Jeffrey Shawn and i moved in temporarily with my folks, Sawyer had just died. In a bid to help me heal and have something to keep me distracted, my dad allowed me to create something lovely from his storage building. He called it his Elvis room and It hadn't been used in years.

I jotted down several storybook ideas into my diary about adoption.  

Yesterday, I was thinking about what to write about because I have so many blog titles in my draft folder, but sometimes I write an entire post and then don't feel like posting any of them when it comes down to it. Then I thought, well, I'm just going to keep this blog as random as can be. It's just how my noggin works, and it's kept me alive all this time, so why change it. So one day, I'll write about how my grandmother's cornbread got the name "dog bread", which will be in the back of Sawyers book The Tale of Sawyer Lamb and the next day I might talk about mindset work. I have no idea what I'm going to post from day to day. I don't like to plan because I think I should be myself, and that means I want my blog to make as little sense as humanly possible. Hehe... I don't get out much, can you tell?

I think I've realised I must be myself. Will I still use flowery, lovely words, yes? Will I then switch it up dramatically? Also yes. I love where my life is today. I will never stop speaking with a British accent, but I'm also southern to the core, so I just might as well accept it. I figured out one-day last week that if I just keep writing and writing eventually, something will catch on. I'm an optimistic fool that way.

Last night I tried to give The Gilded Age another go, and no, just no. The shame of it all. I have no words. Well, actually, I have a lot of words for it, but let's leave it for another day because I'm still reeling.

I heard The New York Times title it "Dime Store Downton", and I agree. But, let's move on before I cry.

I didn't sketch yesterday because I have been stuck on a particular page and how I wanted it to look, so I tend to swim away until I can come back to it and see the vision with clear eyes. It's been a little distressing because I am on a short deadline. I've done it to myself. I want to hit the mark but not at the cost of making my work rubbish. Pray for me.

Today I'm going to meet a sweet new friend at the pub. She recently moved to my hometown, and I'm very excited. I think shell love being a part of Stillwater, The Petticoat Philosophy. Oh, how exciting; let's see if I can keep from screwing this friendship up. Hehe... no, but seriously I know I've found new beliefs about friendship, so I think we will be forever friends. The End.

I love you, and I'll see you tomorrow.

Most affably yours til my next swim, Raquelxxx