Tell Me a Story

"When they got home, the Rat made a bright fire in the parlour, and planted the Mole in an armchair in front of it, having fetched down a dressing gown and slippers for him, and told him river stories till suppertime. Very thrilling stories they were, too, to an earth dwelling animal like Mole . . . Supper was a most cheerful meal; but very shortly afterward a terribly sleepy Mole had to be escorted upstairs by his considerate host, to the best bedroom, where he soon laid his head on his pillow in great peace and contentment, knowing that his new-found friend the River was lapping the sill of his window." The Wind in the Willows

Hello fellow cozy-makers! Brad (our oldest son) and I were computer chatting about The Wind and the Willows. We love it so. He said he loved how the River is depicted most of all, and I love the domestic settings, of course. The BBC (love) made a The Wind in the Willows story and I shall see it soon. The sweet scene above comes from there. I want to invite you to sit before the stove a while. Get all soft and snug, have a steaming cup of strong tea, tell me a few of your stories.

Maybe you are a city mouse or you live on the outskirts of a city as I do, but you have a country mouse's heart. Wear your softest cotton dress, your pretty apron, a pair of clogs. Put your tired feet under my table. I'll make a cake for you, slice some strong cheese, and we'll tell stories. Yes, we'll listen to each other.

Isn't that what we do when we read blogs? We pop in, read every word, think about each other, validate one another when we make specific comments of kind connection. One dear friend told me she likes blogs because she can invite friends into her life without having to do a big swoopy clean of her house. I quite agree. I feel very welcomed into her soft, eloquent world. I read your stories. You read mine. I find it pleasingly miraculous.