Little Birdie.

Indulge your delusions of grandeur.

Centuries old.

Resisting the urge to tint these briars rose.

March winds

and April showers.

Is it Bernard?

A little crooked, but isn't that always the way with promises made over spindles?

Kiss that frog.

To me, always the most disagreeable of heroines.

And again.

Insomnia in pastel. Part 3.

Part 2

Minding my peas and quilts.