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.

I can't get no sleep.

The Firebird.

Not quite ablaze. 

Apt.

The best passage from Andersen also happens to be one of the most wintry.

Racing turtles.

More tortuga for you.

Sakes alive, son.

A Morla morning.

Ivan to know.

Trying to imitate Bilibin, it just ended up looking like a paint by numbers.

Season's eatings.

 

Sugarplum.



 

 

Waiting and watchful.

Little'uns.

 

 

There is no other Troy for you to burn.

A different generation, I grant you.  Medea.

Missing R. Holdstock with a fury right now. 

Ys.

Dreaming lightly.

Feathers into snow.

Old Mother Hulda, cleaning out the lofts. 

Jacked.

This is what wishing out of your bedroom window gets you.  Trouble by the beanful.

Climbing up the walls.

Also.  Let down and hanging around.

Up, up in the air.

Cumulo-nymphus.

Variations on a theme.

Lost Tails.  Giving an oldie some sprucing.

Town mouse and country mouse.

For the record, I like to eat my dinner uninterrupted, too.