Another Trip Around the Sun

Dear Reader,

We welcome you to Merry Rose Cottage today, and hope that you are having as a wonderful day as we. Besides being Tax Day, and the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, it also brings the anniversary of my birth, a whole 36 years ago (Funny, I still feel like I'm 10!).

Everyone asks what special thing I'm going to do for my birthday, but I really can't think of anything I'd rather do than spend the day all cozy at home with my little family. Of course, since it's supposed to rain and snow today, a trip to the Bahamas MIGHT entice me out of my home!

My husband bought me a locally-made "Hand-warmer" mug for tea.

I love the little happy remembrances of my children, who have given me lots of hugs and kisses, and a plateful of strawberries and Perrier (from AnnaMarie). Perrier and the garden seeds I ordered from France will have to count as my birthday trip to Paris I keep threatening to take every year. The drizzling outside is just like being in the City of Lights, anyway! Minus the Eiffel Tower, of course.

A few token from my Mother-in-Love;

Audrey Hepburn videos (We admire HER more than her movies!),

And a beautiful print of an Amish girl holding a chicken (Someone must know of our dream of moving to a farm with Amish neighbors!)

My husband bought me the 1970s version of Little Women, which Frankie is actually allowing us to watch instead of Pirates of Penzance. I hadn't known there WAS such a version until this morning. Aside from the inevitable 70s costuming and twisting of a few plot details, it's an enjoyable show. Since I don't remember many details from the book (I was in labor with Tasha when I read it first), I'll have to re-read the novel (Good thing I just finished Anne of Green Gables!).

May your day be full of sunshine and happiness.

Love,

Marqueta

p.s. Speaking of Paris, this was in my email today; you might enjoy it (Excuse the "h" word!).

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My Heart is Like a Singing Bird
Christina G. Rosseti

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a purple sea;
My heart is gladder than all these 
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleur-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love, is come to me.

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"She is too fond of books, and it has turned her head." ~Louisa May Alcott