Monday, August 25, 2014

Anna's Birthweek! Featuring Anna's Legacy Leukemia Awareness Jewelry

Another beautiful Anna's Legacy Leukemia Awareness piece!
Butterfly Cameo with Peach Pearls in Silver or Gold.
All Proceeds will be donated to St Jude's Hospital
For buying details go to www.mystiquestonemagic.blogspot.com

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Anna's Birthday


This week in honor of my daughter, Anna Michelle Collar's, birthday I will be featuring
~ Anna's Legacy Leukemia Awareness Jewelry ~
Carnelian Pendant with Gold Dragonflies, Peridot & Carnelian chips in Gold

Carnelian  "The Stone Of  Inspiration " 
I am the artists' stone reflecting soulful expression through words and actions. I inspire intensity and lend fire to design.


Peridot "The Stone Of  Destiny" 
I stand as a guardian of hope, wisdom, generosity, abundance, and compassion. Let me take you in hand and guide you to understanding your destiny and spiritual purpose.  

For buying details go to www.mystiquestonemagic.blogspot.com 
All of the proceeds from this sale will be donated to St. Jude's Hospital.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Abigail's Garden


Abigail’s Secret
By C. L. Collar


 

Abigail sat underneath the magnificent oak tree; the centerpiece of her gorgeous garden. A small breeze tenderly brushed a stray strand of sliver hair across her face. The sweet scent of lavender intermingled with a delicate rose fragrance as it drifted to her nose. She sighed. Spring was her favorite time of year. She lifted the ornate pitcher from the table and poured the yellow liquid into her glass. The ice cubes tinkled, adding their musical notes to the melody of the wind chimes dangling above her head. Sipping the sweet-tart lemonade, Abigail smiled and leaned back in her chair.
She looked toward the heavens through the dense foliage of the regale tree. When she and her husband, Joshua had bought the property this tree had been the only occupant in the yard. She loved it and he hated it. She saw it as the beginning of a haven from all of their daily trials and stress. He saw it as a water guzzling, root infestation that would cause nothing but problems. She won the battle with a pouting mouth and pleading eyes. Joshua never stood a chance against her charms. She held his heart in her small hands and she knew it all too well. Fifty years had passed and she still did.  
Abigail’s gaze fell on the blazing orange and yellow blossoms surrounding their vegetable garden. These had been the first uneatable plants lovingly placed here by her hands, her first addition to the garden. Joshua chided her for wasting money on such nonsense, but she pointed out that the seeds were a gift from an elderly friend who said the beautiful marigolds would not only perk up the garden but would also keep bugs away from the plants, explaining that their bitter scent worked as a natural insecticide. Josh had no argument for that so he shook his head, smiled and then went back to work, hoeing the weeds from between the rows.
A garage sale, had furnished the small table and chairs where she now sat. A new coat of paint and pebbles found at the pond and glued to the surface were all that it needed to transform it to a new, natural splendor. The chair cushions were worn but comfortable. Taking another sip from the glass, her eyes focused on the deep purple lavender and bright roses that were scattered about the yard.
The wild rose bushes had been a gift, from the elderly gardener with each child born to the couple, red for a boy and yellow for a girl. Lavender joined the yard along with a multitude of herbs when her treasured friend taught her how to use them to make fabulous meals and sweet potpourri. The selling of the potpourri paid well and Joshua’s increased waistline testified to his approval of the herbs.
Delicate daffodils, colorful tulips and heady scented hyacinths were strategically placed to fade out as the summer flowers blossomed. Bouquets sold through the local store more than offset the cost of the bulbs and seeds while furnishing her with fresh, fragrant decoration throughout the house. Everything had a memory and a purpose.
A butterfly settled on the top of the lemonade pitcher, seeking a taste of the sweet-tangy beverage. Abigail dipped her finger into her glass then placed a drop on the rim. In one swift breath the drop was gone as the delicate insect drifted away, preferring the sweetness of the honeysuckle’s blossom. Abigail laughed. “You should have known that Mother Nature’s drink would be the tastiest, silly girl.”
Abigail closed her eyes and drew a deep breath as contentment slowly spread through her body. Yes, with the help of her very special friend her vision had come to life. The old tree’s limbs creaked and squeaked, as the light breeze grew a little stronger. She opened her eyes and looked once more into the vast canopy above her.
“You think that I saved you that day so long ago, dear friend,” she said to the massive oak. “But it was really you who saved me.”
The old oak spread its branches just enough to let a single ray of sunshine bask on Abigail’s face. “I’d say we saved each other,” he whispered through his leaves.
           
           

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

The Life of a Bench


The Life of a Bench

By C. L. Collar


Spring

Spring has sprung! I sit in the park and watch the trees slowly transform from dead like sticks into gorgeous waves of emerald green leaves. My friends, the butterflies and bees, have returned to feed off of the brightly colored tulips and daffodils growing around my feet. Silly little ants crawl up my legs and onto my seat looking for lunch. Speaking of lunch, I wonder who will share theirs with me today?



It is Silly Gilly. His name is really Gilbert, but I call him Silly Gilly. He comes almost every day, dressed is his low dollar suit to sit a spell and have lunch with me. He loosens his tie, then unbuttons his shirt to feel the freedom of being outdoors. He complains about his job. He tells me how he wishes he could find a job where he could work outside in the nice fresh air instead of his stupid cubicle. I’m not really sure what a cubicle is, but it sounds like some kind of jail. Next he does the silliest thing ever. He feeds all of his lunch to the birds.


Summer

Yeah! It is summertime! I sit in the park and watch the children running like maniacs everywhere. The sun beats down on my newly painted boards. They gleam with a brilliant white glow. I am so excited! What will I be today? Yesterday, I was transformed  into a Broadway stage by two very talented young ladies. I giggled as they took turns tap dancing and singing, on my seat, tickling my boards. I hope I get to play with some boys today.

Here comes Jimmy and James. I love to play with them. What will we do today? Oh boy!
I get to be a pirate ship. Jimmy hoists my sail by tying his coat onto a broken branch and tucking it between my back and seat. James sets his bike upside down on my seat. The front tire is now steering me into the deep blue sea. I love summertime!

Fall

Fall is here. I sit in the park and feel the cool rain wash across my back and slide down onto the ground. All of the grime and dirt are gone and I feel renewed. The smell of autumn fills the air. The scent of hot chocolate and cinnamon buns, float on the breeze to my spot in the park. The summer flowers fade into the ground as new bright marigolds and pansies take their place. The trees are putting on their brilliant color show. I watch the subtle change from emerald green to deep purple, bright orange and brilliant yellow. I am amazed.

Molly comes everyday at three o’clock to sit and have a talk. I think that she is beautiful, but she does not. She tells me that she is plain and ugly and getting older every day. She doesn’t think that she will ever find someone to love her. I try to comfort her by softening my seat and hugging her just a bit. It would be really nice if Silly Gilly and her would come at the same time. I think they would make a lovely couple, but alas, that is out of my control.

Winter

Winter has come. I sit in the park and watch the snow gather on my boards. The snowflakes are pretty in their own way. The park is still and quiet. The trees have become barren sticks again. A few birds have stayed and it is nice to hear them singing even when the weather is bitter cold. Birds seem to be very happy creatures. I watch the squirrels run here and there, trying to find more nuts to fill their winter stash.

Very few people come to visit me in the winter. Most of the time I sit here alone as the ice forms a crust on my seat and the harsh wind peels the paint from my back. I sit in silence patiently waiting for my lovely people to return. I am lonely.

Spring

Spring has sprung! I sit in the park and watch the trees slowly transform from dead like sticks into gorgeous waves of emerald green leaves. My friends, the butterflies and bees, have returned to feed off of the brightly colored tulips and daffodils growing around my legs. Silly little ants crawl up my legs and onto my seat looking for lunch. Speaking of lunch, I wonder who will share theirs with me today?