The Haunting (The Art of Creating a Historical English Cottage)

"Does one ever see any ghost that is not oneself?"—Marjorie Bowen

Good day, my dear mermaid hearts,

My darlings, have you ever considered that women grapple with 'letting go', which is why we adore ghost stories?

When I left my ex-mate on an adventure to find myself and live that swelled dream of being an author and artist, not one more day of being stuck would keep me. It was, of course, a difficult decision, but one I was hell or high water going to do, and no one would stop me. It was either that (because my thoughts were increasingly becoming assorted ways of how i may take a passport) or something else that would result in terrible blows. I was absolutely beyond miserable in my marriage for over two decades. I hid it well. I thought anyway.

However, it is not so tricky as now when it has come time for me to reevaluate my unconscious catch-alls. Last summer, I realised that upon moving into my folk's cottage (in 2019 when Sawyer transitioned) and then creating Scarlette Rose Cottage, I had squirrelled away from a scary space of storage an alarming amount of "stuff." I justified that the storing of items is innocuous. Yet, I do know that vibrational energy invariably surrounds and attaches itself to every object in our houses, transforming them into discernible positive and negative memories. When i have felt depressed and struggle to identify the source of my anguish, it is me looking for something I've hidden quite well. I have recognised this trait in myself, and that is when good housekeeping and decluttering occur, only to once again be back at ground zero with piles of more things I've convinced myself I 'needed' from a charity shoppe or boot sale. The ailing of my soul lies just directly beneath the water's surface of my life.

Storage equals Sorrow
Buying Equals Burying

As of late, I've realised that to create my little 'Cottage of Belonging' (regardless of where that ends up being), it is imperative that i get ahold of that harmful self-inflicted philosophy, and so I plan to organise the cottage completely. I become weary and sigh when blundering past so that i can work and be efficient. I spent ridiculous amounts of time and energy on moving this to that room and that to this room. Arrange, put up, take down, box up, then donate, buy more, justify with additional shopping excursions. Do i truly 'need' another Victorian sofa? I currently have three. What about that ninth Victorian chair for my future settee or library? Why? Because storing 'things' and feeling safe are things I had to examine. I justified an entire year (in the process, they destroyed every piece of antique furniture I had) my kitten's blatant desire to want to be outside. I refused to see my issues of abandonment. As long as I could hold onto the control of keeping my kittens inside the cottage with me, there was no abandonment occurring. My kittens represented everyone who has ever left me.

I was, likewise, forcing control. The kittens represented my children. I relegated Molly to psychologically representing Sawyer. I kept close tabs on the other three. When I divorced their father (yes, you read that correctly despite what you've heard, I divorced him), they all were out of the home except for my daughter, and she downright refused to leave Oklahoma as she stated she had spent her life moving and wanted to settle. I couldn't blame her for that either. I do blame her father for his participation in the alienation between me and my children. I am learning forgiveness, though there were times i wanted to scream. She, the Dark Goddess—She, The Destroyer of Worlds, wanted to blow fury across the angry sea and unleash absolutely everything at him, but I will never unfurl anything. Rather, I have learned to allow myself to feel the emotions and then release them into the cosmos, for that is where healing takes place: in the letting go. For that matter, I love myself more than I dislike anyone in this world. My cancer scare is probably the dissonance I once had for my ex-mate and some other folks. The cells are currently stored; however, they are unhurriedly vacating my ovaries.

"Objects have ghostly emanations, too, that attach themselves to their solidity. Things with drawers—chest, armoires, night tables, trunks—seem to be most populated pieces of furniture."—Dominque Browning

I have simplified my life, focusing my time and attention on writing, researching, painting, and living a slow portrayal of Victorian life and learning to embrace my daily musings with happiness and simplicity by following my bliss and Taking Joy. When a person is very contented, there is no need to blast the results to the world. I tend to believe one of the reasons folks share so much on social media is that there is a need to feel validated.

I have been bringing order to nearly every cottage corner in preparation for loads of creating. Again, my dear heart, if you missed my last post, I made a place where you can write to me through the post. I am inspired to keep the notion of the old-fashioned vision alive, a sort of red-letter day.
I look forward to hearing from you.
  
Raquel's Letterbox-in-the-Hedge
P.O. Box 12071
Brooksville, Florida
34603 

Raquel's Letterbox-In-The-Hedge

Hello dear friends, 

I truly believe that a blog can be a kind of post-office-in-the-hedge. Think of it such as this dear friend. There is a line in the 1993 film version of Little Women when Laurie says, 

"In token of my gratitude and as a means of promoting communication between adjoining nations, shouting from windows being forbidden, I shall provide a post office in our hedge to further encourage the baring of our souls and the telling of our most appalling secrets. I do pledge never to reveal what I receive in confidence here."

Therefore, from this day forward, besides Stillwater ~A Petticoat Society (our little club), I am creating "Raquel's Letterbox-in-the-Hedge." it sounds very English too, doesn't it? Oh, I love it so! Don't you, dear friend? An actual letterbox in the hedge where you can write to me. I wanted to create this because just as i am an introvert, there are moments I've received letters (emails) explaining that many times a comment is warranted. Still, many of my dear readers are like myself, a bit leery about displaying their feelings for the big blue marble to read. Therefore, i wanted to create a safe place for our friendship. I am the constancy of clinging to the old ways of simple and slow life, and one of those specialities is letter writing. I love this little blog, and i will always write it as long as my hands can wield a pen and ink.

However, I believe a place where you can write to me confidently is a niche that remains very much needed in our world—a return of sorts by selecting the best parts of history and reviving them. 

Raquel's Letterbox-In-The-Hedge

P.O. Box 12071

Brooksville, Florida 34603

As of late, I have been undergoing another metamorphosis in my life and feeling the gentle nudge of embodying a slower, more peaceful way of living in terms of media platforms. I have always been an introvert, and yet, the numerous times i have attempted to embrace the world, recently, I have found it more difficult with each passing month. I also have always found it such ease to 'bare my soul' on this ol' blog. I feel at home here, and dare i say out loud, quite safe. That may sound odd, but it's quite true for me. I am leaving little notions for you to find, and conversely. I am most happy you've been drawn here, and perhaps it can be as good and interesting as the description in Chapter 10 of the book Little Women. I feel as tho' i identify my blog and career to Jo gardening her bed, 'never alike for two seasons, always trying experiments.'

"The garden had to be put in order, and each sister had a quarter of the little plot to do what she liked. Hannah used to say, "I'd know which each of them gardens belonged to, ef I see 'em in Chiny," and so she might, for the girls' tastes differed as much as their characters. Meg's had roses, heliotrope, myrtle, and a little orange tree. Jo's bed was never alike two seasons, for she was always trying experiments. This year, it was to be a plantation of sunflowers, the seeds of which cheerful and aspiring plants were to feed Aunt Cockle-top and her family of chicks. Beth had old-fashioned fragrant flowers in her garden, sweet peas and mignonette, larkspur, pinks, pansies, and southernwood, with chickweed for the birds and catnip for the pussies. Amy had a bower in hers, rather small and earwiggy but very pretty to look at, with honeysuckle and morning glories hanging their coloured horns and bells in graceful wreaths all over it, tall white lilies, delicate ferns, and as many brilliant, picturesque plants as would consent to blossom there."-Little Women, Chapter 10

My friend, I have grown weary and tired of trying experiments, yet here i am again, making another attempt. My hope is that 'The Great Creator' sends me the friends i so long to have. I feel tho' that coming home is necessary for me at this juncture in my life. I have always been successful in my writing and painting, and as of late, I've recalled "the Great Creator" nudging me many times with the saying," Why fix something that's not broken." We, as women, mothers, and nurturers' tend to do this. I believe it is in our nature to heal or at least conjure ways of wanting to heal. Therefore, i have also decided the next few months forthcoming to give away three of my bespoke "Little Women" paintings for free.

If you would like to follow me on Instagram, i would love to have you there. I am trying one last time to live according to my little project, thirty days of following my bliss, letting my spirit lead me and Taking Joy. I am reminiscing of the success i previously had with my "Little Women" bespoke paintings and blog writing. I am, in a sense, returning home to my Cottage of Belonging. 

Perhaps the world has displayed too much attention, and I have fallen prey to the pandering snare. The hamster wheel is quite nauseous, and I would like off the ride. Therefore, i am stepping away from so much noise and remaining still by observing and adjusting my social sails. I'm not going anywhere in regards to my blog (and i will remain active on Instagram. Actually, i plan to get back to my writing again with consistency. I must admit the lack of my ability to put together the new blog had me in sorts. It is in the background. However, i have grappled since February with it, and that to me is a sign that i am shoving a square peg into a round hole, and it is not meant to fit. Therefore, for the moment, I have surrendered.

Your kindness has given me the surety to continue speaking of

"The post office box was a capital little institution and flourished wonderfully, for nearly as many queer things passed through it as through the real office. Tragedies and cravats, poetry and pickles, garden seeds and long letters, music and gingerbread, invitations, scoldings and puppies." -Louisa May Alcott

I love Louisa May Alcott; she has been my lifelong friend since the sweet age of eleven when I first read Little Women. If you've ever wondered where the naming of my little custom paintings came from, it is that of Little Women. From the time i was born, my father called me "Little Woman", and knowing that, i have felt it quite endearing and chose to believe it was in reference to such a good book. Is that not what good books do? They change our lives. Books and writing have saved my life many times over. I can be very ill and still must put pen to paper. I can't not write. I've never had a day in my life of writer's block. I will endeavour to touch upon,  chronicle, and reflect upon your comments. I so hope you will love this little mode of communication. I love our little online community. 

Outside, it is cloudy, muggy, and rainy. My common shoe of choice has been my Le Chameau wellies, and several times, i have spoken to Jeffrey Shawn, sounding off that if the weather were a bit cooler, it would be a reminder of England. It is as if I have lived there my whole life. Have you ever felt that you belong somewhere in particular and long to be there but have no solidification as to why the longing is there? I tend to believe it is in our soul. Our higher self draws us back to the place where we belong. 

My flowers are in need of constant water, and equally, tears seem to fall without my knowing why. My finding is that I am expanding, growing, and aligning even more with my inner self. The release of emotions and anger is emptying from my soul and replacing sentiments of forgiveness.

Here at the cottage, we all feel somewhat bruised as we try to get well. My beloved father had a tragic tumble and should soon be on the mend. In addition, Ive had some alarming female health issues. I hope to hear good news soon. Until then, there has been a hole in the fabric of our home life. Everything pertaining to my business and career feels a bit muddled at the moment, and the cottage still requires loads more of uncluttering, and i haven't the vitality to attend to it. The enforced slow pace of the past week has been just the right thing for my frame of mind, and i will continue onwards and upwards, seeking "Take Joy" moments and as a reminder that life is quite precious. I keep pointing in the direction of gratitude and appreciation for all that has been rewarded me.

The most beautiful and nonjudgemental of names for God are "Untangler of Threads" & "The Great Creator." Since i was a wee little lass, i prayed to find common turns of phrases and beautiful words to describe things, and I've found them. In my writing, I've not always been so gentle-natured, more of a pointed person, a porcupine of sorts. I am leaning more toward a softness about me. It feels kinder to me, and i want to be kinder to Raquel.

Most affably yours til my next swim, Razzy 

Niggles

Good day, my dear darling mermaid hearts, 

I am so happy to be back to writing to you once again. My heart feels so light and so delighted.

 

"I cannot rest; I must draw, however poor the result, and when I have a bad time come over me, it is a stronger desire than ever and settles on the queerest things." -Beatrix Potter.

Jeffrey Shawn and I have done a tiny bit of gardening. Last evening, as we were watering the corn, we noticed the beautiful golden corn shooting its magical silk, and what a wonder. It is so rewarding growing a lovely garden of flowers and food. 

I have been repainting the cottage walls a pretty green (which I call a little English sweet pea), which reminds me of England and the lovely, quaint, cosy cottages in the countryside. I have it halfway completed. It has been quite busy here, as I have also been working on completing Mum and Dad's little guest room. I built some faux beams; however, those still need to be installed. 

However, I did finish the faux wood technique on all of the trim work, baseboards and crown moulding. I found this pretty light from the Facebook marketplace for $25. It looks as if the original owners turned it into a plug light by adding a lamp kit. However, I disembowelled the entire lamp and removed the kit. It may not look like much, but it is rather stunning and Victorian in its glory. I can't wait to place her in Scarlette Rose Cottage, as it will suit very well. 

I spent last week removing several pieces of furniture from the cottage; therefore, I don't feel so squeezed tightly like Scarlette Rose in the hole of a cypress tree. It was a much-needed pursuit as there was a little bit of a niggle where I thought I needed to release negative energy. I meditated and then sat and painted more on The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies. I have focused on keeping things in my life relatively simple and calming. I am devoted to a simple old way of slow living, and I've made it a purposeful pursuit.

Have a lovely evening. I will chat with you tomorrow. Toodle-Pip!

Most affably yours til my next swim, Razz