A Fanciful Twist

Of August Tea-Time & Sisters

The loveliest little mornings...

With my sister who is visiting me for several days.

I have always loved my sister.

We laugh at the same things and understand one another in a way no one else can.

It's only as you get older though, that you come to truly appreciate your sister.

You understand what your parents meant when they would say, one day you will thank us and understand why we gave you a sister.

You will have each other for all the ups and downs of life.

There is no one in the world who understands me and knows me like my sister, because we journeyed through life from almost the very beginning, together.

We were so different as children, but somehow, the older we get the more we become alike.

We have grown to respect and admire each other.

To need one another.

And now, we can only thank our parents.

We laugh together like no one I have ever laughed with.

The other evening, we laughed so much I had to lay on the floor and roll on my back, begging her to stop making me laugh.

I will never forget those moments.

I am a little over five years older than my sister.

I was a tween in the late 80's, and everything I loved influenced my sister.

From music, to movies, style and more.

This is a wonderful thing because we both get nostalgic listening to the same music, and we have wonderful college memories because we lived together.

Even though at the time we didn't realize it...

We were forging the most beautiful memory bank and friendship.

Now we have grown to have mutual respect and admiration for one another.

She loves my dogs like they are her own, she asks me gardening questions, we go antiquing and gravitate towards the same treasures where she often allows me to have the best treasure, even if she discovers it first.

We cook and bake and craft together, and we watch movies galore.

We go together with hats on, into the garden with all of our tea accoutrements.

We sit and giggle and chat.

Although we are older, with her I still feel 18, as long as we are together, we are ageless.

It's funny how that can happen.

I am so glad I have a sister and that our relationship has flourished with age.

In the words of Jo March...

I could never love anyone as I love my sister.

We have been having so much fun with our tea parties and midnight movies.

Teddy loves her beyond measure and just wants to sit on her lap.

I flip through books as the comforting sound of her embroidery needle goes through the fabric in her hoop.

Me, my sister and Teddy are having way too much fun together.

I should thank my parents, like they said I would one day.

 

Clink clink to you on fancy teacups friends!

Do you have a lovely sibling story?

We will continue our delightful shenanigans for a few more days.

The rain is here and rainbows and pink skies are happening every day.

I love monsoon season where the desert meets the forest.

 

I hope you are more than well.

See you soon!

I must go check on Teddy and my sister now.

 

Love, 

Vanessa

 

 

ps: The most giant rainbow yesterday...

Until we Meet Again {A Tale About a Life Well Lived}

This is a story about a boy who lived life to its fullest.

I have emerged from my grief with tear-salt raw face, to share with you a truly beautiful story about a sweet Matty dog.

Who I'm very sad to say, has left us.

I held him in my arms until his last breath, telling him what a good boy he was and how much I loved him.

Kissing him on the top of the head many times, as I always did.

And although he passed, I feel he never left.

I can feel him with me still.

Not because he isn't free to cross over, but because he knows it's okay, if he wants to stay by my side.

Matty (Matisse) was my guardian and protector for 13 years and 9 months.

Even though he had lost most of his sight and hearing towards the end, and was dealing with horrible cancer in his face, he followed me around until the last second.

When I was working in the garden, he was positioned at the top of the porch stairs, where he always sat on duty for the whole of his life.

Even up until the night before his passing, as seen in his photo that I captured below, he was at his post and on duty.

As I have been walking through the garden paths, talking myself through my grief and allowing clarity to guide me...

The one thing I am certain of, is that Matty lived a good and absolutely full life.

He came to us as a traumatized and ferociously mean little puppy.

Albeit, utterly adorable.

(The day we rescued him)

The world terrified him, and he reacted with distrust and aggression.

I decided on the very day that we rescued him, that I was all in, and ardently determined to teach him that love exists.

I gave him his space, and I was more patient with him, than with anyone or anything in my entire life.

He felt safest with Mister Lovee from the beginning, but over time morphed into being my personal bodyguard.

When we first brought him home, it took him nearly a month to bark and show us that he had a voice.

And then, another 3 years of patience and coaxing to get him to go down a flight of stairs or be hugged.

But I knew that deep down he was tender and craving connection.

Once, when he was a puppy, there was a pack of coyotes howling nearby, and he was so scared that he jumped up for me to pick him up, and I did.

After a few moments he realized we were too close, and he sprung out of my arms.

At that moment I knew I was more in love with him than I could ever be, and that one day he would let me kiss and hug him without running away.

Slowly but surely, he became the protector of our world, from atop his porch steps.

We enjoyed 14 springs and 13 summers together.

We grew gardens every year, exploring our giant pumpkin patches...

And I think, growing closer and closer.

I worked hard, and he watched, protecting me.

Always guarding me.

And soon, we were sitting in the verbena together.

Rolling in early spring green...

Side by side, but not too close.

Over the years, daily hugs and forehead kisses became our language.

He got to meet our first dog Baby and spent one year with her before she died.

Matty adored her, and I think saw her as his mother.

She was the one who taught me about this deep magical dog love that I never knew existed.

She cracked my heart wide open and made me the best dog mom I could ever be, based solely on love and compassion.

Before Baby, I never understood the vast depth of meaning in unconditional dog love.

She opened my eyes to it.

She gave me the knowledge of how to raise Matty.

He really grieved for Baby when she died, in a way I'll never forget.

Once day we decided to get Matty a little brother.

The puppy was a little golden retriever we called Miles.

(story about Miles' first day home, here)

Matty and Miles loved each other and had a ball running around chasing each other and wrestling.

Miles had a beautiful personality and unfortunately became epileptic, which I think Matty understood.

He even allowed Miles into his secret bed under the porch table.

Quite unbelievable.

Matty was so dedicated and loyal, and on duty 24/7.

He could hear anything, even in the far distance, and nothing was getting past him.

He loved his perch on the top front porch step...

Surrounded by flowers and birds of all kinds.

He absorbed and lived every second of his life.

Running like mad, playing in the rain, chasing rabbits.

Eating really good home cooked meals.

But most importantly, protecting me.

I gave him 13 years of my life.

And he gave me his entire life.

We were inseparable, he was my shadow.

Wherever I was, is where he wanted to be.

He knew how to open all the doors in the house and would find me no matter where I was.

As things usually happen...

Over the years he really began to soften.

He let me hug and kiss him.

And even though he refused to sleep in my bed, on a couple of rare occasions in winter, I would find him tucked tight into my legs in the morning, right on top of my bed.

As soon as I would wake up, he would leave.

We started going everywhere together, and he was my front passenger.

Eventually feeling comfortable enough to just nap as I drove.

We had a rhythm and a beautiful full life together.

We even began hugging several times a day.

When I was watering the garden he would always sneak up from behind my left side, sometimes startling me.

He would lean on my left leg, letting me know he was there.

I loved when he did that and I would stop to pet and hug him, and give him a little back rub.

He survived valley fever several years ago.

After which, he really wasn't the spunky guy who would play with Miles.

A few years later Miles died at the age of 10.

Matty and I went on walks, and bonded even more deeply after Miles was gone.

(post about Miles' passing)

As strong as Matty was, he had the most gentle paw shake, and delicate paws that he kept meticulously groomed.

There are so many details I could go on and on about.

Like how Matty thought our young Teddy was annoying, but still loved running around the yard with him.

(post about the day we brought Teddy home)

And about how, Matty eventually loved 4 humans the most, and let a select couple come into the house.

But mostly, it was he and me, and we loved being in the garden together.

He always found the best look out spot depending on where we were.

He even alerted me to a rattlesnake I almost stepped on last year.

I am lost without my fierce warrior to protect me.

I will somehow have to find my own way.

This was Matty on the porch the night before he died.

It was time, he had lived the fullest life.

He was in pain and struggling with the terminal squamous cell cancer growing so quickly in his face.

He had the most beautiful weekend and morning before his passing.

It was peaceful, and the most beautiful blue-sky day.

With butterflies flying around us as he died in the verbena patch where Miles is buried.

I held him in my arms until his last breath.

We had a lovely procession to his grave right beside Baby, which Mister Lovee prepared and organized.

Two men and a dog lowered Matty into his grave, I picked flowers around the garden.

I put a solar light on his grave, that I could see all night in the distance from my bed.

I knew it was his time to go, but the pain still gets you.

Deep loss has such vast pain attached to it.

Matty left the garden peacefully, dying at home with love and dignity.

He deserved every bit of it, after his service to our little family.

There will never be another Matty.

It was years of creating that bond that we had.

Working through all his quirks and trust issues until we formed a beautiful alliance.

He was unique, one of a kind.

I had to learn to respect his space and go at his pace, which really changed me as a person, for the better.

Imagine the irony of me thinking that I was going to teach him that love existed, when really, he was the one that taught me.

An animal is not just your pet...

An animal is "a someone" that you love.

That you spend more time with than anyone.

You cultivate a life together and are often closer than you are with any other being.

This is why losing them hurts so much.

You feel as though you have also lost a part of yourself.

That the meaning of your life has changed, and that time has slipped through your fingers.

If you have been lucky enough to love in such a way, then you will undoubtedly feel the pain of loss that I speak of.

If you feel the love that leads to such vast pain, then you know that they have lived a wonderful life by your side.

That is what you must remember when searching for peace in the well of grief.

And that must be where the healing begins.

Matty had a great life by my side, and I had a great 13 years with him by my side.

He lived his life to the fullest, and now I must miss him.

I worked in the garden last night and began to feel a sense of peace again.

A glimmer of peace.

I have wonderful Teddy and people to love.

Matty wouldn't want me staying inside and crying in a corner.

(Even though I still might for a little while)

He would want me outside, sniffing rosemary, listening to distant animal sounds, watching out for unknown cars, and chasing rabbits, even though we will never catch any.

He would want me to sit on the top step of the porch, with my eyes closed and my nose in the air, waiting for the scent of monsoon season to begin.

He would want me to leave footprints in the snow and run through rain puddles.

He would want me to drive in the car to wonderful places and go on sunset walks, sniffing the desert in pure bliss.

He would want me to live my life to the fullest.

A life well lived, just like his.

 

Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Matty (Matisse) Valencia

September 1, 2009 - June 12, 2023

 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

 

 

 

Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay.

Performed by Mother's Daughter <3

 

 

Wisteria Days & the Twists of Life

Hello lovely friends.

Writing to you from where the desert meets the forest.

Sitting under a canopy of wisteria, with my hair dancing in the breeze.

I collect buckets of these lovely lavender cascades and set them where the beautiful blue paint peels ever so perfectly.

It's been a wildly floriferous spring, as we move into summer, with unusually mild June weather.

The boys explore the scent of endless bunnies that are born in our garden every year.

Bunnies in giant rosemary bushes and hidden nests of bunny kittens, made of fallen wisteria petals.

Luckily my boys never capture any, so there is peace and safety for endless bunnies to grow up here.

Spring has been incredibly beautiful, but as life is wont to do, it threw in a bit of an unexpected twist, which is why you have not seen me for a few weeks.

I've been spending every moment with my Matty dog, who was diagnosed with aggressive cancer and given 6 weeks to live.

He is in his very last days now, and because it has been too painful to discuss, I've really just spent my time in the garden with him, administering many pills a day and living in the moment.

We have had lovely guests that he accepted, which is very unlike him, so that has made things easier.

I can't imagine life without him, as he's been by my side for 13 years, always protecting me.

He has been the best companion, guard-dog and love.

I make wishes for his painless departure on dandelions.

Is it just me, or are there swans hiding in this dandelion?

It's really something, how there can be so much beauty all around you, mixed with so much sadness.

It's been the most beautiful incredible spring.

I am so thankful for that.

I spend mornings collecting flowers and love taking time to sit in my second wagon (which I've owed you a post about for a long while).

I dream about the renovations, but love the peeling blue paint too much.

I spot a lone lavender poppy...

That takes my breath away.

With petals like paper art, purple and green perfection.

I pet furry quince leaves...

And hide under the gigantic climbing roses.

I always dreamed of roses that would absolutely gobble up my little gallery.

It's when you work towards your dream, but then forget about it, that a sort of magic brews.

Then one day, you notice it and gasp.

Roses have definitely gobbled up my tiny gallery, where I've hosted many art shows during our local art tours.

It's a wild fairy tale dream to me.

I am definitely a lover of untidy gardens and hidden nooks and crannies under natural arbors.

The bees are in full symphony over the poppies.

Sometimes 5 or 6 bees fighting to dive in.

All shades of reds and pinks have decorated the entire garden.

Poppies and wisteria are a perfect combination.

I continually hunt for those furry white bobs, to blow my wishes through.

Pondering over a cup of tea and a bucket of blooms...

Hoping for good, always.

The wonderful lessons of my journey, and getting older, have been that I have learned to accept the combination of beauty and sorrow.

To be in the moment enough to be able to enjoy the very now in time.

To be able to live in a beautiful moment, despite what is going on around me.

Of course, there may be tears, even in beautiful moments.

It's a sense of accepting and embracing simultaneously.

Allowing yourself to feel every emotion.

And not losing sight of the beauty of nature all around, that will hold you and guide you if you allow it.

Days turn into lovely evenings under fairy lit trees.

With music wafting about.

All the orchestral night sounds, performing in unison.

This morning I walked around the country house garden paths with the boys.

Admiring all the new coneflowers (echinacea), and watching little pumpkin sprouts get strong.

Teddy is dragging a 7 foot log so fast and furiously, I had to jump out of his way as he bolted by.

I watered the verbena patch, and am delighted that the main entrance rose arbor (that collapsed in a 2020 monsoon and had to be cut back) is finally filling out over its new arbor, as we train each cane.

I cleaned the entire country house kitchen yesterday and made summer salads.

The country house brings me such vast joy.

Mister Lovee has been digging a new grave right next to Baby.

I see him out the back window, as I know Matty will join Baby and Miles very soon.

What an incredible beautiful life, I'm so thankful beyond measure to have known them all.

Some of my greatest loves have been these beautiful dogs.

I never knew I would grow up to be a crazy dog lady one day.

But I'm eternally grateful for it, and how it happened serendipitously, when I wasn't even planning it.

On that day I met Baby over 20 years ago.

Ah well, memories.

I can smell French toast on the cast iron skillet.

A cup of lemon ginger tea is calling my name, so I must say farewell for now.

I'm sorry I was away for a few weeks.

I never intend to go for so long.

Alas, life happens.

I have spent every morsel with my Matty, hugging his warm little self tight.

I hope you are well in your neck of the woods.

Maybe we could all light a candle in the window of our fairy tale mushroom houses, deep in the woods, illuminating the path and bidding a safe passage to Matty, as he makes his way to where Baby and Miles await him.

 

🖤

 

 

 

I've been listing to this beautiful song.

It always comes up in my Pandora playlist, and it played today as I wrote this post.

Prayer Changes everything by Mark McKenzie.

 

 

Painting Giant Flowers in the Garden

There are a few places where you might find me on these beautiful spring days...

But undoubtedly, all those places are most likely different nooks in the garden.

Painting outside, at the height of spring, is some kind of dream.

With roses and poppies unfurling at the speed of light, you simply do not want to miss a drop of time in the garden.

Bees and pollen and beautiful light are sure to be found in abundance.

But nothing can prepare you for the intoxicatingly glorious scent of the air.

Fragrant dizzying rose scent wafts about, only to be outdone by the ridiculously aromatic honeysuckle.

It's no wonder that I have been enticed to complete my giant flower painting outside.

If you think about it, the flowers are actually this big in bee land.

Imagine, how gigantic the insects must find all the blossoms?!

And so, because I can not fathom the idea of not being a part of the magical garden days...

I find the perfect spot at golden hour, when evening light is the best for painting in.

I grab a cup of peppermint tea and situate myself at the top of the hill, in front of the first blue arbor (as there are two), just above the citrus grove.

The mixture of Pierre de Ronsard and Pearly Gates roses are just blooming over the arbor, and I wished someone could just pinch me to remind me it's all real.

I am sure you feel the same way, when the roses start to bloom?

I inspect them, admiring the layers of petals in sheer disbelief and awe.

After all these years of gardening, you'd think I'd be used to them.

But no, every flush of blooms takes my breath away as though I had never seen them before.

Funny how that happens.

The lavender ones below are the most fragrant, completely knocking your socks off.

So, I set them by my side as I put the finishing touches on my painting.

Giant hydrangeas are my favorite to paint, I think.

Although, I do love painting bees...

Or perhaps it's the flicking of the pollen onto the canvas at the end that feels so dangerous and exciting?

Imagine, standing before a fully completed painting, and then flicking paint wildly at it.

How wonderfully exhilarating.

Good thing it all went okay :-)

I take breaks to visit the Collette's...

I sit to admire the neon pink paint brush wash potion, sitting next to exquisite petals.

The last glow of golden hour flickers through the trees...

Sending flashes of light through, to illuminate my painting here and there.

In truth, the painting was made for my sister, to hang above the bed she sleeps in when she visits me.

I love having her over, it's so much fun to have a sister that you enjoy.

We laugh and sing and speak with different accents.

Probably keeping certain accents going for too long, but we just continue as though we have morphed into different people.

We jump onto each other's nonsense bandwagon, different British accents flying around.

Then we turn up the music and sing.

Or we could be silently sitting in the conservatory, and I start humming a certain tune, and then we both begin belting out the tune together.

It's just a hoot.

We bake, we cook, we go shopping for books and plants and a new pool for Teddy.

I made her a custom Blythe doll.

Two grown women, washing doll hair in the sink, because it is our norm.

We stroll through the garden in the morning, watching poppies unfurl and admiring all the birds.

Cardinals chasing each other, and a mama hummingbird sitting on two eggs in a thimble sized nest.

I could go on and on about out tea parties and trimming hair and making elderflower cocktails.

But the best part is how she loves my dogs and wanted to spend time with Matisse (Matty) as he is entering the end of his journey.

It's heart wrenching to be certain, but then there is Teddy making us all laugh and insisting on sitting on your lap.

We let him get away with all manner of insanity and laugh about it.

It's where we are in life, when you arrive at the knowing place, of what matters and what doesn't.

Of what is important and what isn't.

My sister lost her dog of 16 years in 2020 when I lost Miles.

When you arrive at a certain age, with certain wisdom and life-happenings, everything looks different.

Everything matters, everything is more beautiful, everything is everything.

You understand life differently.

And so, you let a 90lb Teddy sit on your lap and smother you with love.

We took turns of course, but Teddy is enamored beyond compare with my sister.

They were attached the whole time.

Enjoying my garden and painting is my sanity, Matty is by my side today.

Every day counts more than ever right now.

That is the tale I have for you today, as I write from where the desert meets the forest.

I hope you are doing exceedingly well in your neck of the woods.

What I mean by that is, perhaps you are eating a cupcake under an apple tree.

Or something marvelously wonderful like that.

 

Well, I must run for now. 

I promise to return soon.

 

Lot of Love, 

Vanessa