Tea Time With Lady R (A Book Release Tea Party For The Tale Of Sawyer Lamb)

Sunday, April 16, 2023
Good morning my darling dear mermaid hearts, 
Are you up for a chinwag? I've had such a giggle mug these last fortnights. I feel such giddiness at the notions set forth. I'm speaking of my new projects for Patreon and the book illustrations. I'm on the whole stretch of it with Sawyer's book. 

Shall I commence? Easter was a charming delight, a bit pitter-patter and quiet as a mouse, as only a celebration for two, my beloved gardener and me. We ate by candlelight, watching the wind blow the rockers softly back and forth and as the Spanish grey moss swayed in the old oaks. A proper southern countryside display in all its glory. I baked ham, homemade biscuits, deviled eggs and mashed potatoes. I then baked peach cobbler for dessert to accompany our afternoon Fortnum and Mason tea. Bar none; it's undoubtedly my favourite. 

I have been showing forth self-love and emerging daily for myself. I am up at the crack of dawn to water the garden whilst it is still a bit twilight, and then I put the kettle on and start painting by candlelight. It could be more trouble than it's worth at the best of times as I fiddle about not quite able to see clearly. I love the nostalgia of a candle-lit room, and I've not found anything more charming, cosy or calming to my soul. Furthermore, it casts such a lovely glow about the face, and my lines are less noticeable. (Wink, wink) Are those sheep in the illustration a delight to gaze upon?
I am in awe-inspiring love with sheep and have such a "Take Joy" time in painting them in the story. It's so lovely and puts me in such a historical setting that I can hardly take the happiness. Above is the latest illustration I've completed for Sawyer's book, and now there are eight remaining with a bit of polishing ship shape and Bristol fashion; the printing press will send them out for your post. I am also plotting a Live Stream Book Release Tea Party for The Tale of Sawyer Lamb, on June 8, 2023, at 8:18 pm. I am cordially inviting you and would love it if you'd tick the date off in your calendar as I'd be tickled conch shell pink if you'd turn up. You are my favourite people in all of the world. I'm very proud of the story, and I feel in recent weeks, I've no longer felt distressed about the release. I've had such a calmness allowing the book into the world to soar cloud high. My most extraordinary emotions and love went into the little story, and I feel confident everyone that reads it will feel the treasure of it. It has been such a joy to write and illustrate, as you, dear hearts, well know. This is a celebration of life, it will be on Sayerrs Birthday, and I couldn't think of a better day to release it into the universe, can you? I also want to genuinely thank each of you for being there with me, reading my blog and supporting me along the way as you've born me the gift of compassionate understanding through and through. You have been such a profoundly loving support, and I appreciate it; it has meant the absolute world to me, and I feel an unequivocal bond with each of you. 

I began sharing on Instagram little 90-second reels I deemed "Tea Time with Lady R", where I share little tidbits of spirituality, book recommendations, chit chats and this, that and the tenth. 

Do you recall when I reinvented Stillwater~ A Petticoat Society, one of the fun ideas I wanted to establish having a list of like-minded ladies, and we all became pen pals, writing one another back and forth? Well, we did it, dear hearts; there are five and counting. We must begin somewhere, and it's quite an affair, my fruits. What delights we have to learn and grow in love and friendship! Would tou like to be a part of the pen pal list? If so, please comment below, and I will message you privately to exchange addresses, and we shall commence forward as a beautiful community of ladies. Is that not such an exciting measure? Golly gumdrops!
Do you recall many years ago, there was a television series on YouTube called Victorian Farm featuring Ruth Goodman? The series has been removed from YouTube but remains currently on Amazon Prime. The book they used was The Book of the Farm. Well, if you happen to look up the book to purchase it, it can be a hefty fortune., yet luck be a lady tonight; I did a little research and found a reprinted version from the original, and it's a mere 9£. Here is the link if you're interested. It has everything for a Victorian lifestyle. 
I am having such a splendid time reading this book. My conundrum is I have loads of books delivered weekly as if they're going out of style. Do you have this plight as well, so many books, so little time. Teehee...It reminds me of a quote Tasha Tudor said once, " If I didn't have the wolf at the door, I would spend all of my time on housewifery gardening and buying bulbs." Or something to that effect. Have a happy day, my fruits. I love you, and I shall write again tomorrow.

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady Rxxx    

What Three Years Of Speaking British RP Has Taught Me

Friday, April 7, 2023
Hello, my dear mermaid hearts,

Pour a cuppa, and let us have a little chinwag. In 2020 it was six months after Sawyer's murder, and Jeffrey Shawn and I had moved in with my folks (and I'm not sure how to say it delicately, so I'll simply state); I had to cleave onto something that was going to take me out of the extreme discomfort of the loss of my son yet also be an effective human being by remaining, creative. I was compelled to create something as a witness to myself that my son's death would not have occurred in vain. I was bound and determined and under no illusion that pursuing the attitude of "Taking Joy" was going to take all that I could muster, and I felt my life depended on it. Hence, I urge you to understand how every human being learns to fare when thrust into a traumatising affair; we tend to abandon our current reality and propel ourselves into our imagination with various distractions. I learned this manoeuvre at an early onset in my childhood; I played pretend I was Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I was a writer. I built a little wooden fort in the woods and sewed curtains, and made up a fairytale life. I wrote, painted and drank tea all the day long. My mum would call me in for supper time, for I never wanted to leave the little imaginary world I had erected. I felt free and safe from the discord that was my home life. Every child learns to play make-believe; therefore, if you've ever been inquisitive about where grown folks become attached, and develop weird or bazaar fascinations with particular things, childhood trauma is where it is derivative. Children ultimately learn to escape through coping mechanisms, and those traits carry on throughout adulthood. When I lost my son, I escaped into a new world precisely the same way I had as a small child. Firstly, I began building our little Victorian cottage that you've come to know of through my writings here on the blog. I also wrote the manuscript for The Tale of Sawyer Lamb and was beginning to gather up all of the notions and ideas I had been mulling over secretly in my mind for years about other thoughts and creative attitudes. I had well established I wanted to write and identify as an English writer in the Victorian era since my youth. In addition, you know why I began originally speaking with an English accent. I know what you may think when I say identify; yes, Lady Raquel, but you aren't English. I said identify, which means that “one embodies in the shared and characteristic culture, languages and traditions of the British people." I am fully aware I am not English-born; however, many folks (artists especially) latch onto something that sets them apart, and they develop a style of captivating awareness that "this person is different." My profound objective is to be an illustration of what women are capable of who replace their self-sabotaging beliefs with reprogramming their minds. They are apt of notions beyond measure.

I am here to remind them of their godlike inheritance. No one ever says to the American that she has gone off because she has taken to learning French lessons if she's planning to take a trip to France for three months. Yet have you noticed a difference in the judgement that someone might receive if they speak with an Australian or English accent? Crackers! People lose the plot. I tend to categorise those folks as having the brain of a kipper and do not know better. I never experienced any such matters of ridicule, for I manifested that all folks would well receive me, and they have subsequently. That is the power of manifestation; I created my reality—how I wanted it to demonstrate. I've learned to speak with an English accent; however, I know those who experience ostracisation and the meaning for this matter is that someplace within that person, they have beliefs they will be ostracised, and so they are called out and taken apart like clocks. As I've stated a zillion times, our thoughts create, not on rare occasions, but ALWAYS. I remain upfront in everything I do with you, my dear fruits, and why I do what I do, such as speaking with an English accent and clarifying truthfulness goes far and beyond anything else in all the world when it pertains to acceptance of one another. I have, and I believe all folks must toil away at confidence building, for a person must possess deep, profound self-belief. I've had the loveliest interactions with everyone, most especially my English friends, of which I have more English friends than I do American at this point.

Some of the notions I've learned in the three years of speaking English are off the tip of my tongue as follows.

— If you want to learn a new language or accent, it takes loads of practice, and you must be willing to be vulnerable through the process. Therefore, humility along the pilgrimage is quite extraordinary, for it requires courage.

—It teaches a person how to focus and remain fixated, which is truly something we all learn when we first commence learning about how to be a conscious manifester. Therefore in actuality, learning a new accent is a brilliant way to teach focus. In acting terms, remain in a constant state of method. As a result, I've become highly focused in all areas of my life, not merely just on my speech.

—Learning a new accent is not for the faint at heart. In addition, you have to be a strong individual, as some folks will question your motives.

—I am delighted that I was bold enough to go for it, as it has paid me great dividends. But, of course, the biggest bonus was my casting on the reality show (Cottage to the Core) and that I am an American but have an English accent, which is a trait that will be quite fitting for the show's aesthetic.

—I am living my life most happily and living my truth.

—I implore others to live their dreams and never adopt beliefs that age makes one too old to try new things or accomplish an unfilled dream.

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx

A New Story, The Tale of Molly Kitten, Bits Bobs And How Our Childhood Creates Our Beliefs

Friday, March 24, 2023
Yesterday I worked in the garden a little and planted our Confederate jasmine on the iron trellis my dad welded many years ago. It will be the perfect arch for Zoë Kennedy and Ethan to exchange vows under (they are excited to be married at Zoë Kennedy’s grandparent's home, which I think is quite lovely.) I related to Jeffrey Shawn we must fertilise with vigour the vine so it will stretch accordingly by the time it's wedding bells, for it must be delightfully wonderful and covered in pretty white petals. He thought I'd gone off when I told him I went to Lowe’s to purchase the star jasmine. He quickly reminded me that I should remember he has the authority to purchase everything wholesale and did I forget to sniff my smelling salts. Heh... He then returned to his senses, to which he responded, “Oh, I forget sometimes I am married to a determined redhead and thus stubborn and waits for nothing.” He then kissed my forehead with a little giggle mug upon his face.
On another topic, I've been working up my social skills with the feral kittens that were born in my dad's smithy, and what has occurred is that I had the loveliest idea to write a new little storybook about rejection and abandonment based on these feral kittens. I've often shared on this blog and YouTube about experiences that I have had in life, and understandably, once in childhood, I had two terrible abandonment experiences with a few cats/kittens, which undoubtedly contributed to my belief that everything I love always builds up and then stands to be taken from me. In addition, because of the incidents, I swore off cats my whole life. These upsetting times are why and where we develop disconcerting beliefs in life. Many moons ago, I was determined to innocently manifest a feral cat for the mice issue we were having in the chicken coop; little did I realise I would actually grow sentimental affection for the two kittens born in my dad's smithy. In fact, I didn't know kittens were born in my dad's forge until he made mention one day, whilst sitting on the porch rocking chair upon declaring, “those are the same kittens that were born in my forge.”

May you become aware that when something mortifying transpires, we build up our guard to that experience; not realising the occurrence that took place sets us on a path of imprinting beliefs, whether that be good or bad. It was never about a feline per se; it, in addition to other scenarios, is what placed me on a course of the “feeling” which became a belief. The back story is that I lost my first childhood cat and her kittens. And to keep this post from becoming unsettling, I will simply not say the actual horror of what indeed happened. We, as women and ladies, build resistance and barriers to prevent (or think we're preventing) from ever having to reencounter such distress. It's perfectly comprehendible to acknowledge this is from which our beliefs present themselves. So as to not be hurt again in such a profoundly horrid manner is hence why I rejected kittens and cats from then on forward. In my past, I would echo, I like cats as long as they are someone else's, or clarify I am a dog person. I will say I think today I am generally an animal-loving person, and I like both cats and dogs. My heart's truest nature is I quite fancy and adore all animals, respectively.

Last week I came into my folk's cottage from gardening, and my mum called me Ellie May from the Beverly Hillbillies. I said why is that? (I don't recall watching that television program, in all honesty, I never watched much television, well, with the exception of Little House on the Prairie.) She said because one minute you've made friends with the feral cats, the next minute your toting chickens around and then walking bunny rabbits and dogs on leashes. That was a compliment.

As a little girl, before I wanted to be an author and artist, I wanted to be a veterinarian; I pruned short the desire upon the realisation I would have to euthanise pets and decided that was entirely too emotional for a sensitive little ginger-haired Pisces heart such as mine. I feel very attuned to my higher spirit when animals surround me. And so, might you see that when I write my children's storybooks (written for the young and olde), I make sense of and heal my soul through the books? I am convinced that my books will reach the hearts of children and adults alike. Human folks are much more similar than they are different. I have the mind to reveal I do believe quite a number of folks have incidents when rejection, abandonment and feelings of loss are concerned.

The book is called The Tale of Molly Kitten. Upon petitioning my spirit guide, Beatrix Potter, to conjure up a book title, I was busily watering the garden and instantly felt her telepathically say, look up the nickname of a female kitten. I followed suit and uncovered the female nickname of a kitten is called a Molly! I was unaware, were you? Also, as you may know, I am constantly flattering and on the take with Beatrix’s book titles. Whereas my book is nothing like her book The Tale of Tom Kitten, with regards to a set of naughty kittens bent on destructive disobedience, it is similar as it is written delightfully cheering and of sound English dignification. 
The first page I will share with you: 
The Tale of Molly Kitten

[Once upon a time, there were three little kittens, and their names were Smoky, Molly Mipsy, and Twister.

They had dear little fine coats of fur, deemed village kittens, for they were all born in Mr Lane's smithy and thereafter abandoned with no mother to call their own.]
The one kitten I named Molly Mipsy (has become quite the endearing character whom sleeps outdoors on our rocking chair, purs, and follows me at all times) and the other kittens I named Twister and Smoky. Twister (which may be a boy name to most, yet, she is a girl kitten); however, I make no bones about giving her that name, for she has earned it. She reminded me of a twister in the way she bolts all over with skittish movement and, on one occasion, even hissed at me. She is a bit more spirited, but I like spirited. These kittens have been another way of healing a particular wound I had around abandonment and cats, so, therefore, that is why I am writing another charming little spiritually-laced children's book. To write and create books is so healing for me, and I do believe in my heart of hearts; they will heal millions around this big blue marble. I have had to believe in myself even when no one else has. Do you understand, my dear friends? We, as landlocked mermaids, must be the awe-inspiring heroes for ourselves, and then the world will learn of it.

I do believe it is time for me to fly, and rest assured, we shall have another proper conversation soon. 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady raquelxxx