Finding Wonderland

The lead-up to the wedding this year was a whirlwind, sparkling little moments whirling by and popping like bubbles in champagne. It was a series of fortuitous events, parties and showers and faces I hadn’t seen in years. My parents threw us a big engagement party, where Michael regaled them of the tale of how he met me eating ice cream. There was a lovely shower hosted by my godmother Julie, where I was introduced to the joys of Prosecco + Limoncello and lively conversation. There was a gorgeous bridesmaid tea with a half dozen flavors of homemade muffins hosted at my mother’s house with the help of her lifelong friend, Nancy.

Then there was the wedding shower hosted by my cousin Kay and Aunt Sharon. No one would tell me anything about this shower’s theme, but at this point I was just along for the ride. My mother did ask me what I was going to wear (answer: my polka-dotted tea dress and red heels and a vintage hat with veil courtesy of my bestie and matron of honor, Catherine). We rode up to my aunt’s house and there was an air of barely suppressed excitement in the car.

Imagine my shock when we arrive and the first thing I see is this:


Yes, that’s a reference to Flamingo croquet.

And this:


Yes, that’s a marshmallow bunny Peeps glued to the sign, in front of an actual rabbit hole.

You see, one of the strange parts of writing a blog is that you usually do it in a bit of a vacuum. You throw your songs, your stories, your words out there into the universe. It’s a bit like blowing bubbles into the wind: they are beautiful, but they float away to who knows where?

I knew vaguely that a few family members read my blog, but I had no idea that they knew how much it mattered to me, how the whole theme encompassed so much of who I was. So this was my reaction.


Especially once I saw the extent to which my cousin Kay had immersed herself in the theme.


So I got inside the door and the whole house was decorated like Wonderland. The first thing they did was place a pinafore (apron) and a proper bow on their Alice.


The decorations were imaginative and exquisite, a collaboration with all three ladies, though my mother’s creative hand was clearly seen.



There were caterpillars and mushrooms and playing cards and all the ladies wore hats, even my littlest cousin. There were beautiful tea treats, not the least of which was the Eat Me Cookies made by my Aunt Sharon.


Oh, and there was tea. Pots and pots of tea, in all the flavours you could want for a proper Mad Tea Party.


Alice had her special garden chair, where she opened her gifts and was quizzed on Alice in Wonderland trivia.


The whole day was magical. I felt so loved, so flattered, so understood. And it reminded me that sometimes Wonderland is closer than we think; we only need look.

Infinite gratitude to my whole family who helped create this special day and all the days surrounding the wedding, with special thanks to my cousin Kay (the Hatter), my Aunt Sharon and, always, my dearest mother.


Blog Flash 2012: Relaxing

From romance to creepy childhood fairytale reinterpretation. No one can say that #BlogFlash2012 isn’t leading me down an unusual writing path.


Alice tumbled to the forest floor. She’d eaten three mushrooms, but she was hungry and the apple was so red. Her eyelids flickered: a rabbit by her elbow snapped shut his pocketwatch. The caterpillar exhaled a smoke ring the size of a dodo.

Her head rolled right and the roses chattered. The Queen of Hearts bit into a headless tart, smiling at Alice with a dripping red grin.

As the toxin from the Amanita mushrooms spread through her body with relaxing warmth, Alice thought she saw a floating cat grin at her.

And then she died.

Word Count: 100

Blog Hop, or Terror in my Soul

You may notice even though I frequently refer to writing on this blog, I have not actually posted much writing. That is because it’s far more pleasant to muse idly on the beauteous creations of others than to expose your own tender work to the knives of the internet comment board.

However, I have decided this is a cowardly stance. In support of my awesome and amazing writing friends, Lillie McFerrin, Daniel Swensen, Angie Richmond and Angela Goff, I am entering my tiny, humble piece-ling into their Super Cool Blog Hop Contest. In 300 words or less, write a piece of flash fiction, poetry or song using the photo prompt below. You can go here for the details. Below is my wee entry. *covers eyes* Okay, now you can read it.

Hour of Light
She kept walking. The Wood wasn’t bright enough this time of night, so she thought – luminosity – and it steadily grew brighter. Time and again, she had told the trees to grow in straight lines, but they never listened. The dark trunks jutted from the ground in irregular clusters, silhouetted in the gloom. She trailed her hand over the flowertops, gently dotting dewed petals with her fingertips.  As she brushed past them, they sang along with the wind in a lonesome susurrus. She placed a finger to her lips and tasted the dew; it tasted of memories.
This was how she always walked in the Wood, towards the light. The starflowers grew so deep this time of year; they were already above her knee. Her bare feet grew cold as she squished through the grass, so she decided it was warmer than she thought. 
She took great breaths of the air, scented with dead and growing things. The sky was growing steadily lighter, for she knew it was the hour of light. Sometimes when she walked through the mist, she could not decide which way was forward and which was back. So she kept walking. Was there a time she had ever not walked in the Wood? She finally reached the hanging light bulb and reached up, up, up so carefully on her tippy-toes. She pulled the cord and the light went out.