Through the Secret Keyhole

In the Attic...

The house that she shared with grandmother had become a remnant of the past.  The garden gate, unable to be opened...

Grandmother slept nearly all day, and awoke at midnight for tea.  The girl thought she could hear grandmother speaking to someone...

No, it couldn't be.

She escaped from the dilapidated mansion, into the attic.

Where the most mysterious of adventures awaited her...

She promised herself that she would not open the trunk anymore, and peer into her reflection in that broken mirror.

Alas, she couldn't help herself.

For her reflection told a tale that sent chills all over her body...

And, beckoned her in deeper.

Until one day...

She disappeared into the shattered glass altogether.

Into the realms of her imagination.

As time went by grandmother passed on, leaving her home to her niece.  No one seemed to even wonder or ask where the girl had gone?

But one thing that did happen was, from time to time -

 People staying in the old mansion would say that they could hear a girl giggling, through a curious tune that traveled down the dark and rickety attic steps...

 

♥ 

 

The Whisper was Always, Miranda...

She awoke often from a dream - a cool wind enveloping her, whispering Miranda, Miranda, Miranda...

Only, her name was not Miranda.

The closest she had ever come to that name was in the form of an old key, which she had held tight to, for as long as she could remember.  She kept it in her treasure box.

On the side of the key was one word engraved into the metal.

Miranda.

Who was this Miranda?

What was the place burned into her memory?

As she grew older, the vivid memories of this mysterious place grew stronger and stronger.

Miranda never left her thoughts for long.

Until one day, when she discovered that Miranda was not a person at all.

Instead...

Miranda was a place..

Miranda Castle.

But, why did she have a key to such a place?

A key to a castle?

And how, how did she get it?

Castle Miranda was built in 1866 by Milner, an English architect.

It had been commissioned by the Liedekerke-Beaufort family, who during the French Revolution had left their previous home, Vêves Castle.

She pondered this new information, as she inspected her key.

Still wondering why she had it.

She could hear the chatter of her family from outside of her bedroom door.

A family she never felt attached to.

A family she looked nothing like.

A family she could not wait to get away from.

She spent her days daydreaming.

And, with each daydream her memories of Castle Miranda became clear as water.

She remembered a grand kitchen, where she sat and nibbled on fresh bread, and ate soup poured in wooden bowl fulls by Cook.

It was during dreams of Cook's big bowls of delicious soup, and the sound of chalk on a chalkboard, that her memories came flooding back ten fold.

She could not have been more than 3 years old in those vast memories.

She was now 17.

But she remembered.

Somehow, she remembered...

During world war II, Miranda Castle had become an orphanage.

It operated as such until 1980.

Is that how she got the key?

Had she once lived there?

The castle was left to ruin.

But one day, she vowed to return to Miranda, to Belgium...

To the truth....

 

♥

 

Miranda Castle is a real place. 

Read here.

As for my tale...

Well, you be the judge ;)

 

 

(photo credit)

For no reason at all...

A Party...

A decadent party.

For no reason really.

Rain on our shoulders - sweets on our lips...

Feeling so alive.

So free.

Dancing in the rain.

Finding yourself again.

You were always there really, at your proverbial party in the street.

No care to make you say, why am I doing this anyway?

No way.

The reason was clear. 

 Just because.

And that's enough reason, my dear.

So...

Perhaps you should throw another soiree - just a party for one, to say...

I am lovely, I am alive, I matter.

Cake, please...

May I taste the batter?

 

♥

 photo found here.

Into the Journey...

Deeper into the journey we venture...

Another year, another day, another hour...

A gift of life, of days, of moments, of happenings.

Every moment, a chance to believe, to dream, to not give up.

Each day, challenging us to make the trek into the adventure of living.

A journey, into the adventure of life.

 

 ♥

 

Winter Dreams...

Winter dreams flutter about. 

Snow flurries, hot chocolate, a wood burning stove....

Holidays on the horizon, gift wrapping, christmas carols...

And maybe, just maybe, we might catch sight of a sugar plum fairy, or two...

 

♥

 

(cottage photo credit)

There...

Following the stairs, oh those autumn stairs...

 

To a place, deep inside.  A place where our dreams and visions are realized...

That is where I shall see you, on this very haunted night....

 

♥

 

(photo credit)

Secret Heart

Only in the depths of one's heart, does the truth live.  A person finds a reason for existing, a passion, a love. 

On that stage, people found themselves, and felt whole...

And so, time passes, walls crumble, moments are lost...

But, there are those who shall never leave.  Those who dare not venture out of the place that filled their being.

Not in life, and not after.

From time to time, if you are lucky, you just might catch a glimpse of where they chose to stay...

Forever more.

 

♥

 

Jane...

She left us in July, 194 years ago...

But what she left behind....

Well, I needn't tell you, I'm sure.

Quite certain in fact.

Jane Austen...

Tales and thoughts, in words a plenty.

Enough to fill the hearts of millions of girls and boys...

Sigh.....

So lovely.

Thank goodness others have taken to interpreting her written art so beautifully, as to continue sharing the gift of Jane...

 

♥

 

Follow & Believe?

Follow your dreams they say... 

Reach for them...

Believe in them...

Do you follow your dreams?

Do I follow my dreams?

Do we forget to follow?

Does the path fade?

Or, do you hang on by a thread, and hope to all hopes?

A long time ago, I decided that, I won't just wish for big dreams, but I will wish for little ones too.

The little ones are easy to make come true.

Just ask yourself what little wish you want to come true right now...

Ice-Cream.

New Shoes.

1 hour to read.

A small wish.

The little ones lead to helping the big ones comes true.

The little wishes are the seedlings, to the big wishes.

Promise.

 

♥

 

(photo credits:  tree path,  fairytale, ice-cream)

A Place to Sleep

A simple place to sleep, really...

Nothing too fancy.

Oh no, not too fancy at all.

When can we move in?

Oh today you say?

 

Scrumptious!

 

♥

 

(photo credit)