I have lately been at my little labours upon several pursuits pertaining to Scarlette Rose Cottage (My Little Cottage of Belonging) and now at present ‘My Little Cottage of Becoming’, a place most dear to my heart.
Before I launch into the particulars of stoning, thatching, and the gentle arts of interior renovation, permit me, dearest reader, to drift back upon a tide of memory and imagination to share what is afoot at Scarlette Rose Cottage. After penning and illustrating The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies last year, I had already painted in my mind’s eye a vision most dear: a little English cottage clothed in enchantment, the very dwelling of dreams.
Thus it was that I set about packing away the contents of the cottage, clearing each nook and cranny, as though sweeping the slate clean to begin anew. For, as any artist may confess, the shaping of a space often requires much musing and tender hesitation—one must flesh out the dream, coax it into form, and let the heart decide. So it has been with Scarlette Rose Cottage.
All my little storybooks, though adorned with whimsy, hold within their pages both teaching and truth. The Tale of Merrymaid Scarlette Rose was born of my days as a mermaid at Weeki Wachee Springs, and gently whispers the lesson of reaping what one sows and following the true call of the heart. The Tale of Sawyer Lamb honours my sweet son, teaching young and old alike that even in the shadow of death, beauty and optimism may bloom. And The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies—ah, that is the tale of a wish most fervent, of Oliver and I desiring companions when others said “nay,” and manifesting our heart’s dream, proving that with belief, nought is impossible.
Yes, there was a time I prepared to move elsewhere—and indeed, one day Jeffrey Shawn and I shall take up our abode in the dear house beside my parents, the very one I manifested in but a fortnight, debt-free. Yet life is not a straight and narrow lane; it is a meandering country path, filled with pivots, turns, and delightful surprises. And therein lies its beauty.
I bid you, gentle soul, to swim along beside me, as together we watch this humble dwelling blossom into a cottagecore dream most charming and enchanting.
There shall be further tidings of these cottagey capers in my following epistle, yet for the present — with a steaming china cup of fragrant tea at my elbow — I felt irresistibly compelled to set down a few musings, if only to gladden my own heart and, perchance, to entertain you in this little missive of “Taking Joy”.
A fortnight ago, all alone but for the whispering breezes, I gathered a noble heap of flagstones to commence the fair entirety of dear Scarlette Rose Cottage, as it called to mind that beguiling illustration, and the darling dwelling I once espied in Carmel-by-the-Sea (Below), so many moons ago. That quaint abode impressed itself so deeply upon my spirit that I pledged to the kindly fair folk that, one day, I should dwell within my very own stone-clad, thatched-roof storybook cottage — and lo! the dream unfolds apace.
Dreams, sweet Mermaid Darlings, are merry things to tend and nurture, and as an artist, I know well the slow and savoury delight of such becoming. Yet I would gently remind thee of life’s tender brevity, and of how wondrous it is to live whilst one yet abides in this earthly garden truly. Too oft gentle souls tether their joy to some fancied ‘once upon a time’—when pounds are shed, when a fine house is procured, when fickle fortune deigns to smile.
Meanwhile, the present hour—ripe and brimming with enchantment—slips like silver sand betwixt their fingers.
Alas, such a day may never dawn! Let us blossom where we are planted; let us be satisfied in the present moment, whilst yet eager for the morrow.
So I counsel thee; burn thy candles down to the very wick’s end, adorn thy humble chipmunk’s nest with care, clear the neglected chamber or storeroom by a single trifling task — for such small steps are the ones that truly matter.
Charm need not be costly; change a cold lamp into a golden Edison bulb (Take care it bears not the tell-tale letters of LED), or let a flickering flame light bathe the room in an antiquated glow. Procure beeswax tapers and set them aglow at eventide, transfiguring thy home into a sanctuary. Replace a dreary fixture and crown the space with some quaint antique treasure discovered upon the marketplace.
Even in a humble rental, thou mayst alter and adorn at will, then with a merry hand restore anon, when fresh adventures beckon thee upon the tide.
Thus, let us live enchantingly now, rather than defer joy to some elusive tomorrow. For our cottages — whether stone-clad or thatched only in dream — deserve to be cherished, dressed, and illumined with wonder whilst our hearts still beat merrily within them.
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| Sage and Onion~Beatrix Potter painted colour at the gate of Hilltop. |
Pray allow me to share the humble manner in which I fashioned the window muntins for dear Scarlette Rose Cottage. I procured a selection of wooden screen door mouldings and millwork from the local emporium — Lowe’s, if you please — and set about painting them with a most delightful shade of my own invention: Beatrix Potter Onions and Sage, a gentle green reminiscent of wind-swept hills and kitchen gardens in springtime.
For the affixing of said muntins, I employed a marvellous modern contrivance — 3M Super-Strength Moulding Tape, intended, curiously enough, for the adornment of motor-carriages — which held the pieces fast with the steadfastness of a butler’s promise. My tool of choice was a pair of Gartol Mitre Shears, which sliced through the trim with the precision of a parlour maid folding linens.
Each piece was painted lovingly on both sides, as any proper muntin ought to be. The colour — a mingling of green sage and tender onion, which I christened Beatrix Potter Hilltop — was mixed by my own hand, inspired by the soft, mossy palette of the Lake District on a misty morning.
Should you be inclined to undertake such a bewitching task yourself, I dare say you will find great joy in the doing, for there is little more satisfying than seeing sunlight dance through a window framed in enchantment.
LINKS:
. Wooden screen door mouldings and millwork from Lowe's
. Gartol Mitre Shears
I do hope you'll consider subscribing to my YouTube channel, where I shall continue to share the process — each quaint step and curious detail — as the story of Scarlette Rose Cottage unfolds. There’s so much more to come, and I should be ever so delighted to have you along for the voyage.
Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady R
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