Sunday, July 29, 2012


So, Autumn is not quite in the air yet, though I always find myself longing for it at this time of year.

I thought that now would be a good time to start filling our community gardens with 
Garden Folk to guard the coming harvest.

I arranged a workshop at our garden site and we had the most wonderful and creative morn!
Take a peek here for the day! 
I've fallen in love with Tattie Bogles, the Scots name for scarecrow!
So many wonderful children's books have made their way to me, all the stories with
 such heart and soul!

Here's the tattie bogle I created.  Her name is Aunt Tattie and I think she's beautiful!

I had such an inspired time bringing her to life that I long to create more and more and more!
They look so magical from a distance!

If you are of a mind to create (or already have created) a tattie bogle for your garden,
won't you please post a link here so we might all come to see!


Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Great God Kevin: A Lesser Known Greek Myth

A Sisterhood of the Goat Story
by:  Mimi Foxmorton
copyright 2012

One day on the farm 
While with one of my brothers
There arrived a white goat
That was not like the others.

He passed my cow Lizzie
And Pony the horse

A donkey named Elvis

And Miss Darla, of course.

The chickens ignored him
But that's how they act

This goat was quite different
And that was a fact.

He stood tall and lean
With a mop on his head
Had a lopsided grin
And went where I led.

His eyes were quite knowing
He looked straight at me

And settled right down
Just as calm as could be.

The others were curious 
As goats always are

'Cept for Darla
Who rammed him
And said,
"That's my Maa!"

A wee calf looked on him
With great, huge, round eyes

The barn yard was silent
You could hear the wind's sighs.

I searched through my memory
In a blink I did know it
"You're the Great God Pan." I did breathe
You can't help but show it.

"You are right." spoke the goat
Voice like honey and heaven
"But to lessen the fuss
Won't you please call me Kevin?"

"I've come from Arcadia
Near Olympus above
I noticed one day
That you needed some love."

"I'm here to remind you
That you are not alone"

"Your respect for all creatures
From above it has shone."

"The Sisterhood summoned me
They are quite astute"

"And to prove my devotion
I'll play on my flute!"

The music flowed forth
His Pan pipe I did hear
So ethereal it was
That I shed one happy tear.

The notes they dripped o'er me
Not one of them tragic
I knew then I was gifted
With goat love......

....and magic!

"'Tis true, then." I spoke
When the music had faded
"Those who say it's not true
Must surely be jaded."

"In sooth there are many
Who've forgotten the story
Of Pan on the hillside
In all of his glory."

"My Father was Hermes
The great messenger god
My mother, I knew her
For only a nod."

"I've lived many tales
Caused a wee bit of trouble
But delight to all hearts
That I've brought, it is double."

"There's the story of Syrinx
Who I thought I did need"

photo courtesy of Marigold & the Goatmother
Hi, Marigold!  Hi, Goatmother!  xox

"My pipe here you see
It was made from her reed."

"I've loved many a nymph
And sweet Echo I married
Her voice still you can hear
Down the lone path it's carried."

"I once dressed like a sheep
Fell in love with the Moon"

note to the Goatmother-I only wore it for a second-just for modeling.....I promise   ~Yellow Dog

"But she uncovered my plan
And I was sent away soon."

"I frighten the herds
And cause Panic, too
With my very fine yell of:
"Hey!  YIP!  YIP!  YOOOOO!"

"You see it's not good
To forget the old tale
Our children must know now
We can't let them fail."

"I ask you to bring
 The myths back to light
Create love for old stories
So they're not lost in the night."

So I gathered my goaties
And started to tell 
Of the Great God, um...Kevin
And his magical yell.

Our new goat was delighted
So he gave his great shout!
Darla whispered to me-
"Maaa, you figured it out!"

And from that day forward
We read every day
Stories from near
And from far, far away.

For a child's imagination
Is a miracle to behold

And as Kevin will tell you...
More precious than gold.

~The End~

~Hey! I wanted to be the last picture!
 ~Fine Darla, you can be the last picture.

~You still love me best, right?
~I still love you best, Darla.
~Good.  Then you won't mind if I do this.........

That's MY end!

Good night, everyone, from Maamaa and Me!

Submitted to the Lovely and Magical
Please check out the wonderful and imaginative writers there!

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

We Do Have Need of Thee

O goat-foot God of Arcady!
This modern world is grey and old,
And what remains to us of thee?

No more the shepherd lads in glee
Throw apples at thy wattled fold,

O goat-foot God of Arcady!

Nor through the laurels can one see
Thy soft brown limbs, thy beard of gold,
And what remains to us of thee?

And dull and dead our Thames would be,
For here the winds are chill and cold,

O goat-foot God of Arcady!

Then keep the tomb of Helice,
Thine olive-woods, thy vine-clad wold,
And what remains to us of thee?

Though many an unsung elegy
Sleeps in the reeds our rivers hold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Ah, what remains to us of thee?

Ah, leave the hills of Arcady,
Thy satyrs and their wanton play,
This modern world hath need of thee.

No nymph or Faun indeed have we,
For Faun and nymph are old and grey,

Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!

This is the land where liberty
Lit grave-browed Milton on his way,
This modern world hath need of thee!

A land of ancient chivalry
Where gentle Sidney saw the day,

Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!

This fierce sea-lion of the sea,
This England lacks some stronger lay,
This modern world hath need of thee!

Then blow some trumpet loud and free,
And give thine oaten pipe away,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This modern world hath need of thee! 
~Oscar Wilde

Monday, July 9, 2012

Our Pan


“What was he doing, the great god Pan,Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.

He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
 and the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.

‘This is the way,’ laughed the great god Pan(Laughed while he sat by the river),
‘The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed.
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die and the lilies revived,
And the dragon-fly came back to dream on the river.

Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.”

E. B. Browning.