During winter in Austin we hardly ever have snowmen, but we do have snow ladies ~ in abundance. They are made out of fabric, usually sheets and quilts. You can see them everywhere along the avenues where I live. The snow ladies shown here today are in my yard. The one above is sheltering a Norfolk pine. As you can see, this snow lady is very much a flowered babushka ~ she only needs an apron and a kerchief to complete her costume.
Behind her is our side yard, a small extra lot which has been my husband's balloon port these past 20 years. He is a hot-air balloon pilot (among other things), and he likes to lay his six-story-tall balloon envelope on this strip of grass and walk around inside it, repairing little rips and tears.
We are slowly planting more and more trees and bushes, encroaching upon his port. I may get my wish to have a little woods growing here someday!
This tall stately lady-in-plaid is hiding our Barbados cherry, which is a very spindly little thing at this point in its young life. It is new to our yard, and we are hoping for the bright red fruit it is said to produce. I especially hope the birds will like its bright red fruit.
On the far left on the ground near the side fence you can see the top of a Martin house. It is on the ground for housecleaning and relocation. We have been trying to lure Purple Martins to our backyard for 20 years. They will come and check out the little house, but they will not set up housekeeping. We are going to try a new location this year.
Maybe this will be the year for Martins. Maybe they will come when they see we have Barbados cherries.
Beneath this lovely striped lady, who appears to be in a kind of Ruben-esque repose, are great clumps of aloe vera. We are strong believers in the healing properties of aloe, and have always had these succulents sprouting everywhere in our yard.
This part of the backyard is our inner sanctum. It lies beneath the shade of an enormous pecan tree, and is hidden on all four sides, by the back of our house, our garage, the neighbor's garage, and an old peach tree at the back fence. Two compost heaps, two brush piles, and stands of fig trees, oleander, forsythia, and boxwood fill in all the gaps. A very secret place.
And a little bit of a museum is developing here, as you can see. But this is not my province, I only come here to admire and to see what new acquisitions have been added to the on-going diorama.
This fantastical silver majesty is the queen of the snow ladies. She is also the keeper of the largest philodendron in Texas, which is nestled against the trunk of the pecan tree I mentioned above. My husband has kept this philodendron alive for 20+ years, and she keeps growing and growing.
I love how this majestic snow lady's striped petticoat flounce is peeking out so daringly. Her silver cape is an old tarp which has become too porous to use as a protective covering for the hot-air balloon. She does seem on her way to the ball, just about to "trip the light fantastic," doesn't she?
Well, I love these intriguing hillocks of fabric that stand guard over our plants in the freezing-cold days of a Central Texas winter. I took these photos on Monday, and yesterday the sun came out, and all the sheets and quilts and tarps came off. They are piled up in stacks now, waiting for the next freeze.
And speaking of hillocks of fabric, here is my cut-paper Tatiana, surrounded by similar fabric hills, and standing with out-stretched arms as I try to decide which patterns to use to make a torn-fabric frame to put her in. All blacks and whites with a touch of red, I am thinking.
I have set Tatiana against some books I've been delving back into recently, books I have read before, some many times. From top to bottom:
Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore
Bloomsbury at Home by Pamela Todd
The Dangerous Book for Boys by Hal Iggulden
The Daring Book for Girls by Miriam Peskowitz
Let Us Now Praise Famous Men by James Agee
Favorite Poems: Selected for Boys and Girls by Helen Ferris
I love keeping stacks of books around me, to inspire me, to keep me company. And I love the company of little spirits, or sprites, like this tiny paper doll, to carry on a conversation with.
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