I Am So Weak For Pretty Rings ,,,,

you commit to memory the childhood home, the fuzzy carpet, your great aunt's voice. you love and miss breakfast on a saturday morning, the sound of television in another room, your favorite bedsheets. you repeat your favorite day again and again your head.

when will lord byron come back from the dead to validate my romantic goth taste in fashion?

This is so cool- who wants to take tea at Beatrix Potter’s house? Just follow the Peter Rabbit sign.

Isn’t this beautiful? It remains pretty much unchanged.

The current gardeners follow the vegetable gardens described in her books. 

Here’s the dollhouse described in her 1904 book, The Tale of Two Bad Mice, in which some cute vermin bust into a doll house and smash every ceramic plate and pastry to bits.

Potter was simply enchanted by the idea of creating whimsy on a smaller scale. In one corner of the house you’ll spot a collection of thimble-sized pots.

A few original pages from her books are on display.

Plus, her writing desk.

Cozy fireplace.

Dining area- notice the little stuffed characters from her books, around.

Lovely table for tea. Could you imagine? 

And, her luxurious bedroom. Gorgeous place.

https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/visit-beatrix-potters-house

“Before everything, before even humans, there were stories. A creature at a fire conjuring a world with nothing but its voice and a listener’s imagination. And now, me, and thousands like me, in little booths and rooms and mics and screens all over the world, doing the same for a family of listeners, connected as all families are, primarily by the stories we tell each other. And after, after fire, and death, or whatever happens next, after the wiping clean or the gradual decay, after the after…when there are only a few creatures left, there will be one at a fire, telling a story to what family it has left. It was the first thing, and it will be the last.”

— Welcome to Night Vale Episode 71, “The Registry of Middle School Crushes”  (via realhousewivesofnightvale)

I want the cottage. I want the green grass and the tomato plants. I want the peace in you; the front porch rocking chair lullaby; our cricket legs rubbing together under the covers. We can’t have it all. I know that, but humor me. We can’t have it all, but we can have most of it.

Caitlyn Siehl, from “Apple Pie Life” (via oofpoetry)

The Sheboygan Press, Wisconsin, February 14, 1932