Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Playhouse

Ever since I was a little girl I have entertained lasting dreams of playhouses.

Therefore, it only seemed fitting that my daughters should have a little cedar house tucked under the corners of the trees, for moments and days of imagining and playing.


With sleeping lofts crammed with pillows, blankets and favorite things.




A step ladder for singing or resting, when not needed for climbing above, of course.

And a gently creaking swing on the front porch perfect to share with a sister.

My dreams have come full circle.

once again ...and even more frozen whiteness

  There is a wilder solitude in winter  When every sense is pricked alive and keen.         --May Sarton ("The House in Winter" A ...