Here, have some cat pictures

It seems like we only just got a couple days of sun finally, and it's already pouring outside again. On the Pro side of lots of rainy days lately is that I've been working on lots of new things for the shops. The Con side is that I haven't had a chance to photograph anything and actually get them up. It also means that I've been taking lots of pictures of my cat. Because, why not.

Here are some glamor shots of Baby Cat, resident cutie-pie and distraction artist extraordinaire:







In other news, I had my first show of the season last Saturday (after the first got rained out the week before)- the Greenway Open Market in downtown Boston. It's a beautiful location, free to attend, and there are tons of good food trucks there. If you're in the Boston area and looking for something to do on a Saturday, I highly recommend checking it out! It runs every Saturday into the Fall. I'll be there for a few more weeks!


It got off to a slow start for me, but after a couple of hours it really picked up, and lots of people were coming by and chatting and buying. And I met all shapes and sizes of adorable pooches out for their constitutionals with their owners, too. I think next time I might bring a water bowl and treats!

I think today is a good day to sit down, put on some music, drink some tea, and make a lot of stuff! What are you working on today?



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Mount Auburn Cemetery

One of my favorite places in the greater Boston area has to be a cemetery. If you've ever been to Mount Auburn Cemetery you'll know why. I've been coming here since I was a wee little girl, to walk the beautiful grounds and learn about all the local and natural history.




I'm a little biased anyway because I love cemeteries. I did my thesis on one (King's Chapel Burying Ground in downtown Boston, yo), they're free to get into (can't say that about many places anymore), they're usually quiet, and they often are full of beautiful, storied, artwork.

Mount Auburn is all these things, and more (I kind of feel like I'm writing a tourism brochure here) - and let me tell you why!

It's Historic: America's first garden cemetery, it's also home to many notable burials such as Mary Baker Eddy, Charles Bullfinch, Isabella Stewart Gardner, and others too numerous to name


It's beautiful: Green rolling hills, flower trimmed lanes (each "street" in the cemetery is named after a different flower or tree), unique and exquisite monuments, ponds, and a view to die for at the top of a centrally located tower.

View from the tower

Flora and fauna: If you love flowers and trees, this is the place for you. There are so many different species, and they are all helpfully labeled. Mount Auburn is also one of the best places in the area for bird watching. I've seen hawks, turkeys, cardinals, gold finches, and that's without even having to go look for them. There is a big chalkboard in entrance gate where people write down the rare birds they have seen lately.

Beautiful Irises in front of a grave

A hawk sunning itself on the ground. I took this from the tower so it's a little hard to see!

It's Free: and right off public transportation, too :)



Bonuses: On clear days in the spring and summer (and we always hope- the fall) you can hear Red Sox games being announced all the way from Fenway park.
Mount Auburn is also a stone's throw from Harvard Square, so when you're done hiking around you can get some delicious food at one of the many restaurants around.

It's a special place for me, because no matter what changes or happens, I can always come here and see the same monuments and trees I grew up with.

Visit the website here!

Have you ever been to Mount Auburn Cemetery? What do you love about it (or maybe not love)?

Or, what are some of your favorite places to escape to for a day?

Victorian Advertising

Here are some of my pieces of Victorian Boston ephemera. I've licensed these as Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License which means you are free to use them as long as it is not for commercial purposes and you link back to my blog. Enjoy!



Sweetser's Snuff by http://gildeddays.blogspot.com/ is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.



Compliments of Globe Museum by http://gildeddays.blogspot.com/ is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Life and Sayings of Mrs. Partington

This is a great old book from 1854 which has seen better days. It was written based on a series of "sketches" by one Benjamin Penhallow Shillaber, a humorist and contributor to the Boston Post. His character of Mrs. Partington (a sassy and somewhat indignant old lady) became hugely popular with the public, and after several appearances in the Post, a book was published by the Derby Brothers. Mark Twain was apparently a big Mrs. Partington fan even.
Here is one of the illustrated plates from my copy as well as the excerpt that goes with the it:

"It was a sort of half twilight, when the daylight begins to be thick and muddy, and a time when ghosts are said to be round fully as plenty as at the classic hour of midnight. We never could see the propriety of restricting ghostly operations to this sombre hour, and, as far as our experience goes, we have seen as many ghosts at " noon of day " as at the " noon of night."

She never told us why, or if she were thinking of ghosts at this time; indeed, all we know about the ghost was from Mrs. Battlegash, and we shall have to give the narration as we had it under Mrs. B.'s own hand: —

" Says Mrs. Part'nton, says she, 'Mrs. Battle,' she always calls me Battle, though my name is Battlegash —my husband's name, and his father's — says she, 'Mrs. Battle, I 've seen an apprehension;' and I thought she was agoing to have an asterisk, she was so very pale and haggard like; and says I, ' What's the matter 1' for I felt kind of skeered. I had heered a good deal about the spirituous manifestations, and didn't know but they had been a manifesting her. Says I, 'What's th'c matter,' agin and then says she, as solum as a grave-yard, ' I 've seen Paul!' I felt cold chills a crawlin all over me, but I mustard courage enough to say, ' Do tell!' ' Yes,' says she, ' I saw him with my mortal eyes, just as he looked when he was a tenement of clay, with the very soger clo'es and impertinences he had on the last day he sarved his country in the auxiliary.'

'' I tried to comfort the poor cretur by telling her that I guessed he didn't keer enough about her to want to come back, and as his estate had all been settled sacreligiously, it would be very unreasonable indeed in him to come back to disturb her.

" ' Where did you see him? ' says I. ' Out into the yard,'said she. 'When did you see him?' says I. 'Just now,' said she. ' Are you shore it was he ?' said I, determined to get at the bottom of it. 'Yes,' said she, ' if ever an apprehension did come back, that 'ere was Due. P'raps it is there now.' Then says I, 'Ruth,' says I, ' le's go and see.'

'' She riz right up, and we walked along through the long entry into her room, and looked out of her back window, and there, shore enough, was a sight as froze my blood to calves-foot jelly. There was the soger cap and coat, as nateral as life, with the tompion atop. My heart come up into my mouth, so that I could have spit it out just as easy as not. Mrs. Part'nton, says she. ' What do you think of it? Isn't it his apprehension'! But I 'm determined to speak to it.'

" I tried to persuade her not to, but she insisted on it, and out she went.

" ' Paul!' said she, ' what upon airth do you want that you should come back arter it, so apprehensively' The figure was setting on the top of the pump when she spoke, and it didn't take no notice of her. ' Paul!' said she, a little louder. Then slowly and solemly that 'ere cap turned round, and instead of Paul, Mr. Editor, if you '11 believe it, it was Ike, the little scapegrace, that had frightened us almost out of our wits, if we ever had any. That boy, I believe, will be the means of somebody's death. Mrs. Part'nton grew very red in the face, and razed her hand to inflict corporal punishment onto the young corporal, but the boy looked up kind of pleasantly like, and she couldn't find the heart to strike him, though I told her if she spared the rod she would spile that 'ere child. It is fortnight for him that he isn't a child of mine, I can tell him."

Here Mrs. Battlegash's narrative ends. We can fancy the scene in the yard: the youngster in the corporal's coat, the red face changing to pleasant equanimity, the raised hand, indicative of temper, subsiding, as the waves do when the wind ceases to blow, and peace, like the evening star above them, pervading and giving grace to the tableau."

Here is a wonderful article someone shared with me on the publishers
https://www.lib.rochester.edu/index.cfm?page=2444