When you think of Emilie Loring’s stories, what images come to mind? A black cocker spaniel racing through the woods, tongue wagging? An armload of bittersweet bobbing downriver? A green circus balloon? A sparkling, yellow diamond?
Some of Ellen’s favorite Emilie Loring images and sayings have become ornaments in her Ontario garden, where a host of ladies will join her–and us–for a garden tea on July 6th. Before her guests arrive, let’s take a peek:
“Seeing more immediate returns from cooking than from writing I turned Grandmother Leigh’s old home into the Silver Moon Chowder House. Silver Moon because of the roses with mother-of-pearl petals and golden hearts which climb over the walls in June.”
“You don’t mean that you run a poultry farm as well as the Silver Moon?”
… “At present it is running him–ragged. However, as we have adopted for our coat of arms two green frogs, milkpail rampant, with Kick Frog! Kick! illumined on a silver field, we should worry.” Fair Tomorrow
With an exclamation he was on his feet striding toward her… “At last. I’ve waited and waited. Began to think you had lost your courage–darling, and were letting me down.” He bent as if to kiss her, whispered:– “Name’s Drex. Danger.”
To Kay’s horror the man who had guided her to Casa Fresco swayed forward on a wave of laughter from his companions. “Bueno, I give you American Justice of the Peace, you call heem. The marriage must be made to hold tight, eh, Señores?
… “She got tangled up with the Scorpion gang and to get her out–we–we–she and I were put through a marriage ceremony–of sorts–at gunpoint.”
Stars in Your Eyes
She made a disdainful face at the chuckling bird.
“Mr. Micawber, sometime when you yell like that I’ll forget that I’m a perfect lady and wring your neck. Sam, did you teach the parrot that police radio call?”
… It seemed empty without the parrot. Was it possible that she had begun to like Mr. Micawber?
… She looked between the gilded bars. What seemed to be merely a bunch of green feathers lay stiffly on the bottom.
Boxes at the windows were spilling over with pink petunias, spikes of purple viscaria, fluffs of blue lobelia, and trailing vines. She could see Mrs. Puffer’s hand in that bit of loveliness; she looked like a woman for whom flowers would grow…
“Mr. Puffer! Mr. Puffer! I’ve found some eggs! E-g-g-s!”
“Gorry-me! Don’t stop to spell ’em! Bring ’em down!”
“Lobsters! The mere word makes me ravenous. Are there many about here?”
“Those lobster-trap floats bobbing in the cove are the answer.”
“Do they belong to Tarry Farm?”
“No. To Captain Ozias–commonly called Ozy–who is fisherman extraordinary, as well as errand man and sheriff, to the community.”
Give Me One Summer
Some are from Emilie’s life, like this nod to the Owen sisters:
When finances got tighter, they purchased more land from Emilie, this time along the road, and opened “Larkspur Lodge,” a summer tea house painted in Carrie’s favorite shade of lavender.
When Ellen announced in February, “I am in to do an ‘Emilie Garden’ this year! It would be fun to make plaques with some of her sayings to place among the flowers,” I had no idea how wonderfully she would succeed!
Ellen has more surprises in store, so watch for them on July 6th–and please send photos, quotes, and stories of your own! In case you’ve lost your invitation, here’s another:
You are cordially invited to enjoy an Emilie-Loring-inspired, garden tea
on Thursday, July 6, 2017 at 4:00 p.m., your local time.
Enjoy your tea in any “garden” that you like, and please take photos to share.
This is not a contest;
we will simply have more fun seeing how everyone makes it happen.
I will open a blog post that morning and update it
throughout that day and the next with your photos.
(Send to me at firstname.lastname@example.org)