elaby: (Last Unicorn - Unicorn)
Happy Imbolc, my beloved friends <3 We got home from Florida and our joy-filled, relaxing visit to [livejournal.com profile] songtoisis this morning around 1:00 a.m., with no flight problems whatsoever on our return trip, and today it's blizzarding again. I need to sit today and reflect on all of the wonderful experiences I had this weekend, but I wanted to share with you a letter I received in my e-mail from my city's mayor. I've always generally approved of him for his politics but I didn't know a lot about him personally, and this letter is at the same time beautiful, inspiring, and touches me as a pagan. What he writes about is very appropriate for Imbolc. I was very impressed when I read it, and it's kind of amazing (and new) to feel an affinity with a political figure like this. He was also New Hampshire's first openly gay mayor, which is just extra wonderful to me <3

The Mayor's Corner

In Memory of City Councilor
Marcel Hebert, Ward 3

Winter can be unforgiving for most of us. The lack of warmth, sunlight and forced hibernation begins to take its toll as storms continue to batter us, and temperatures remain low. However, there is a deeper natural meaning hidden in the darkness of winter if one is only willing to look. Winter is nature's way of forcing us to slow down, recharge our energy, re-evaluate our goals and prepare for the coming rebirth of spring.

It reminds us as we look out our windows or observe through our travels throughout New England, that despite being surrounded by death, warmth and rebirth of life will occur. It is with nature's message that we can be inspired to celebrate life and its brief magical moments, to endure all of its joy, pain and sorrow and yet be thankful for the time we were able to walk with friends and family.

The Somersworth City Council Family, City Manager and I, are saddened by the loss of our colleague, Councilor Marcel Hebert. While the emptiness Marcel leaves behind cannot be replaced, we are blessed by the memories of his humor, wit and dedication to the home we all call Somersworth. It was impossible for anyone who had a conversation with Marcel to not walk away with a smile on their face. It is these memories which will continue the legacy of Councilor Marcel Hebert.

The Tao Te Ching, a classic Chinese text written between the 4th and 6th century BCE, is a base of spiritual guidance, celebration of life and daily wisdom. One of the writings of the Tao speaks of morning. "Greet the dawn. This is your miracle to witness. That is the ultimate beauty. That is sacredness. That is your gift from heaven. That is your omen of prophecy. That is knowledge that life is not futile. That is enlightenment. That is your meaning in life. That is your directive. That is your comfort. That is the solemnity of duty. That is inspiration for compassion. That is the light of the ultimate".

With each and every sunrise, let us not only celebrate the blessing of our life, but the lives of each person who have walked with us on our journey. Let the warmth of the morning remind us of the joys they brought us, and of their dedication and sacrifices. With the promise of a new day, let us rededicate ourselves to living life to the fullest and becoming the keeper for our fellow brethren.

Sincerely,
Mayor Dana Hilliard
elaby: (Half Acre - Crack the sky)
Happy Solstice and Yule! I wish love and warmth and happiness to all of my friends as the days start to lengthen again and midwinter takes hold <3

Rachel and I had a really nice weekend. On Saturday, we visited some friends in Boston and had a really, really happy and fun time. Our friends down there are such awesome, kind people <3 We drove home in the evening to host a Call of Cthulhu gaming session (Cthultide! :D) and the campaign was predictably insanity-inducing. My character died horribly – run over while trying to get into the escape vehicle, then put out of my misery by my friends-turned-brainedwashed-cult-followers – but there was so much hilarity that I didn’t mind in the least. My character was lots of fun to play: she was a published paranormal nonfiction author who’d had some really creepy shit happen to her, and she was also a technophobe, so I had all sorts of fun pretending not to know how to work the digital camera the GM brought (complete with local photographs as clues!). She also had inherited her grandmother’s pendulum and I used it mostly to my advantage, although for the first hour or two I don’t think I ever rolled under a sixty no matter which dice I used XD

The next morning, we slept until 11:30 (!!! That’s what happens when you’re up until half past two gaming with a tableful of awesome friends and load of delicious desserts :3) and then we ventured out to Trader Joe’s to pick up food for Christmas Eve, which we’re hosting at our house. We were happily surprised to find the mall area much less jam-packed than we expected, but we got our couple of groceries and beat a hasty retreat nonetheless.

When we got home, Rachel worked on sewing projects for Christmas presents and I started making our Solstice feast. Our original plan was potato soup, which we changed to corn chowder thickened with Rachel’s famous Best Mashed Potatoes Ever. I started by washing and peeling the potatoes.

Potatoes for Solstice soup!

More photos, dinner, and our ritual )
elaby: (Droplet trees)
One of the reasons I embraced paganism is that I wanted to feel more in touch with the seasons and the turning of the year. When I was little, I imagined the year to be like a circle or clock: Christmas was at 12:00, Easter at 3:00, the Fourth of July at 6:00, and Halloween at 9:00. I was somewhat off, but that’s pretty close to the pagan wheel of the year. As I grew older, I became more and more irked by the calendar definitions of the changeover from season to season. I mean, anybody who’s lived in New England can tell you that it starts to feel like winter WAY before December 21st. I wanted to celebrate the seasons by how they felt, by the changes in the weather and the earth, which is what the seasons actually are. As I learned more about paganism, I looked to the pagan calendar - the solstices and equinoxes and cross-quarter days - to remedy what I felt was erroneous in our secular calendar.

At first, this simply meant shifting the “wheel” in my head, as if I’d taken a circular 12-month calendar and superimposed a translucent circle with quarters for each season on top of it -- with just a 1/8th counterclockwise shift, the first day of winter now lined up with Samhain, the first day of spring with Imbolc, the first of summer with Beltane, and the first of fall with Lughnassa. This fell into place nicely with the old words for Yule and Litha: midwinter and midsummer. In my mind, the 21st of December felt a lot more like the middle of winter than the first day of it, and it made sense that winter would span the lead-up to the longest night of the year and the weeks after, when the sun was starting to return.

This adjustment made the seasons and dates line up a little better and soothed my literal-minded need to categorize things. However, it wasn’t perfect. In New England, it sure doesn’t start feeling like fall at the end of August, nor does the beginning of February feel like the start of spring. Both fall and spring are shorter and the changes in them more rapid than winter and summer are (much to my regret).

This year, I’ve felt particularly attuned to the change of the seasons. It’s not really anything I’ve done differently… I’ve tried to notice every year, but this year I feel like I had more cause or more opportunity to watch the wheel turn. In the spring when I was sick, being outside was one of the only things that made me feel better. At work, there’s a pond behind my office and a swath of long grasses and reeds between the parking lot and the water. I’ve been going out there almost every day, just to stand and breathe in the air and soak up the sun. It’s amazing what you see when you watch something grow over several seasons. I saw the cattails turn from green pencils to brown sausages and then bubble with fluff, wooly seed motes that floated in the air around me on my walk at lunch today. I saw dark purple spears appear at the tips of the long grasses and then bloom like fireworks into burgundy tufts, which have now mellowed to silver-gold. I saw purple crown-vetch replaced by Queen Anne’s lace replaced by asters. I saw butterflies give way to wasps and bumblebees who then made room for dragonflies.

It strikes me now that trying to delineate the seasons, trying to make the dates line up with the changes I see, is just as silly as trying to cram anything else into a neat, easily describable box. The number on the calendar is meaningless, because the shift between seasons is gradual and awe-inspiring and just as much its own “season” as any other. In fact, the time “between” seasons is always my favorite, because I love to watch the changes: to taste that first scent of crisp, dry grass on the air that signals autumn, to see the monarch butterflies appear.

Happy Mabon <3
elaby: (Madoka - Homura is badass)
I'm left with so many things to think about after the glorious weekend I spent with the Blue Moon ladies in Illinois. It's so easy there to feel meaningful, loved, important – like you're contributing to the betterment of the world just by the simple act of existing. I can't say I didn't have my moments of discomfort, because those are to be expected when I'm around other people as consistently and intensely as I was there, but the worth of my experiences far outweighed any personal awkwardness and internal walls I ran up against.

Now that I'm back home and back to work, I'd like to make my "regular" life more like those few days, rather than merely clutching the memories to my heart. There's no doubt that these sort of "spiritual retreat" experiences – the Blue Moon gatherings, the Fairie Festival – feel like a "time out of time" where the rest of my life and its stresses and mundanities can't intrude, but I think it would do me good to try to infuse my everyday with those feelings and experiences rather than just thinking of them as little cut-off islands of time that could never be replicated under "normal life" conditions. These retreats will always be the most special of my spiritual and personal growth, but such growth doesn't have to be confined to them.

All I need now are concrete ways to accomplish this.
- Meditate regularly. Put it on the calendar. Monday evenings.
- Incorporate some kind of ritual into daily life.

Wednesday, after much re-entry woe, Rachel declared that my mission this year would be to discover what I have to offer. I was lamenting that I wouldn't be able to lead a workshop because I don't have any pass-on-able pagany knowledge or skills. One of the things that came out in me the most this past weekend was a desire to learn. I crave thorough knowledge of a subject that means something to me. I feel like I'm forgetting so much that I learned in school – I've been out of it so long that I can't even talk about Shakespeare with confidence anymore – and I want to fill those empty brain-spaces with something again. I want to revolt against the idea that the older you get, the harder it is to learn new things. Most of all, I want to crowd out the "screen-saver" portions of my consciousness that default to obsessive worrying.

The good news is that there are SO MANY THINGS in the world to learn :) I'll just have to narrow down a list!

- Botany/herbalism: I want to learn to identify plants when I'm walking past them in the field or woods. I'm not interested in practicing herbal medicine, but I would like to learn more about it, specifically the metaphysical and culinary properties of various herbs (for spiritual and cooking use as opposed to medical use).
- Crystals: I'd like to have in my brain some solid idea of the metaphysical properties of common crystals, and ways to use them other than "carry this in your pocket".
- Healthy eating: There are several things in this area.
----- I want to eat primarily foods whose ingredients I recognize.
----- I'm curious about the "detoxify your body" trend. What does it mean? Is it right for me? If it is, how can I do it safely?
----- What does it really mean when something is "certified organic" and what benefits do those foods have?
----- Can I buy humanely sourced milk products and eggs in my area?
- Tea: I already know a little bit about the different types of tea from a class we took, but I'd like to cement that knowledge in my brain. I'd also like to memorize the best steeping times/temperatures for the general categories of tea and the serving customs from various cultures.
- Green living: Okay, I recycle and I don't eat meat and I tried fitting public transportation into my lifestyle. How else can I shape my day-by-day to be more ecologically conscious?
- Victorian housekeeping: I want to reacquaint myself with all the fascinating information I used to know about how the Victorians did laundry, how they planned and cooked their meals, how they managed their hygiene and clothing, etc.

If anyone knows things about these subjects or has recommendations for reliable books, websites, resources, directions I should go, etc., they'd be welcome :) I trust you folks more than some published experts out there.

Right now I'm not so much feeling the usual "I'm worthless if I don't create" angst. It's more of a voracious need for knowledge. I've tried creating without knowledge several times (unwisely) and every time, it became obvious that expecting myself to be, for example, a SEWING WIZARD without learning how to sew first* only leads to frustration and self-recrimination. Neither of which I need.

*For some reason, there are certain things that my intuition tells me I should know how to do as naturally as walking. Sewing is one of them. It comforts me to speculate that this may be some kind of past-life thing, knowledge that was second nature to me once. Regardless, though - in this life, I have to learn how first.

It's hard to admit, but learning – the taking in and mulling over and synthesis of information – is much easier and more fulfilling for me than creating. That's why I have two degrees in literature instead of any in writing. Although I find creation ultimately rewarding, it carries a lot more self-doubt and frustration; I've always found learning to be immensely rewarding and mood-lifting just in itself. I downplay the importance of learning because it feels more "for me," while creating has the potential to benefit others. That's something I need to work on turning around. What's wrong with spending time doing something only for me? And the more I learn, the more I can better help others.
elaby: (Orange sun through the trees)
I'm sitting in our yard, beneath our crab-apple tree, with a cricket or some other musical insect serenading me from the other side of the flower bed. Today is the most gorgeous day - the sky is a clean-washed blue and it's been unrepentantly sunny, with temperatures in the 60s. I stepped out of the door last evening to help Rachel bring in groceries, and I felt it on my skin - fall coming. This morning, it was even stronger. I thought of pumpkins and drying grasses and tea all the way to work, and at lunch, I went for a walk. I couldn't pass up this beautiful day!

Actually, I've been going for a walk pretty much every day recently. The temperatures calmed down a little last week so that I could actually go outside at lunch without overheating, and on the first day, I walked out to the field behind my office that I discovered after I learned that the nearby woods I used to walk through had been torn down. It's such a haven - the forest path to the field is a green tunnel, carpeted in grass and flowers. That day I stopped by a particularly interesting tree, one that's been broken off about fifteen feet up and is now completely engulfed in leafy vines. My walks aren't very strenuous - I stop a lot to look at things - and when I turned away from the tree there was a huge feather lying right in front of me on the path. It's more than a foot long, brown and white striped, pristine. I picked it up and carried it with me.

Upon stepping into the field, there's a slight rise, and at the top, you can see all the way to the treeline (with the highway on the other side) on the left and all the way across the pond on the right. An enormous bird was winging its way slowly over the trees - a great blue heron - and I heard this sound, a cry, like a seagull, only longer, keener. I thought it might be the heron, but then a hawk swooped up from the forest, and I knew that's what it had to be. It flew over me, circling and crying, so triumphant. I think it may have been a broad-winged hawk, but we have so many red-tailed hawks near my office that it could've been that as well.

That day I heard frogs jumping into the pond. I saw a thousand butterflies (yellow ones, white ones, brown ones, and flocks of tiny pale blue ones). Grasshoppers scattered like raindrops. On the way back through the forest, I found one half of a tiny white eggshell, speckled with black. It's on my altar now, with the feather. That night, I dreamed of sailing in a little wooden boat, and a female osprey flew beside me, so close I could stroke her back. I could tell she was female because the females have brown markings on their white chests that look like a necklace.

The next day, when I went back, I watched fish swim around in the pond. And on Friday, I went back again, and everywhere I looked, something moved out of the corner of my eye. At first I just thought they were grasshoppers, but I would see one land and then bend down to get a closer look - and nothing would be there. This happened over and over, and I walked down by the lake again and wandered toward where I could hear some water-birds playing, flapping their wings against the surface. I swear I saw a gray frog (gray like granite, not any color I've ever seen on a frog before) jump from the path into the grass at the edge, but when I looked closer, there was nothing, not a stirring. Something that big would surely cause movement in the grass as it scurried away, right? On my way back at the pond, I heard birds chirping - it sounded a bit like a cardinal I saw there today - and I looked and looked, but couldn't see them. This isn't unusual, but the unusual thing was this: I heard the same chirping coming from a clump of tall grass right near the path, and I went over to look inside. It sounded so close - right under my nose - but for all my tentative poking and moving aside of sticks, there was nothing in there. The chirping continued, though, and I was afraid I would hurt whatever it was or startle it, so I moved away, and then I heard the chirping above me - across the path - in this part of the sky and then that - right over my head, like it was circling me, but there was nothing there. I told Rachel about it later, and she was like "The faeries sure had a good time with you today!" And I went "...Oh." Suddenly everything made sense!

Today I brought them a little piece of bread in a heart-shaped milkweed husk that I picked up in the area last winter. I put it by the clump of grass and thanked them for playing with me. Funny how I spent my childhood desperately searching for some sign of faeries, and it's only now that I'm an adult that I'm really getting to know them.
elaby: (Last Unicorn - Unicorn)
I've been working on a post about the Fairie Festival for the past few days, so hopefully that's coming soon <3

Rachel and I had a really lovely day today. It's been ridiculously hot in NH (yay 99 degrees when I left work yesterday! o_o) but we got the air conditioners installed in our bedroom and TV room. Last night, when we got home, it was clear from our jungle of a lawn that it was time to mow. Rachel loves to mow (I always offer!) so while she did so, I walked around barefoot in the ankle-high grass and looked at all of our flowers. There was also a bird calling in our Grandpa tree and I wanted to figure out what it was :3 (I didn't.) Right now we have irises, some beautiful purple things that probably lupins, bleeding hearts… it's gorgeous. I can't believe our luck that so many amazing flowers were planted here before we arrived. We planted some out front (and they're doing great!) but the most magnificent ones were already here.

Something wonderful and strange happened to me. There's a poplar tree behind our garage that I call our Mama tree, and she feels very protective to me. I always greet her when I'm over there and thank her for looking after us. There's another tree, also a poplar, beside her, and I tend to forget it's there. Last night, I said to Mama tree, "Maybe sometime I'll get to know that tree better."

Later, when I was falling asleep - not dreaming, but scarcely awake - the Mama tree told me who the other tree was. And I can't really remember what she said. It was something about the other tree being a/the Goddess, and I remember being surprised because I had been under the vague impression that the tree had a male sort of feeling. I wish I could remember exactly what she told me, but at the time, it was such an important revelation.

Today, we went bra-shopping (such fun XD) and I managed to find some inexpensive ones. When we were at Kohl's, I found the CUTEST DRESS… It's this one. It was in Juniors, so I assumed it would never fit me, but Rachel convinced me to try on an XL and it ended up fitting really well. Er, except for the fact that it's ULTRA SUPER SHORT XD But it's so incredibly mori that I was envisioning wearing it over a longer skirt anyway, which is what I'll do. It was also on (humongous) sale, so I didn't even feel bad buying it. I've discovered that I like pink, which is a color I never thought I liked - or never allowed myself to like because I thought it would mean I was conforming to society's dictation of what color I should like as a woman? Well, I like it. Nobody should tell women that they ought to like pink, but nobody should tell them they can't like it, either, or that liking it makes them unfeminist.

Afterwards, we went up to Portland to Dobra Tea, which was our main destination. They were having a poetry/book reading, which was really cool, though unexpected. It was nice to get to hear people's stories. I had a chilled tulsi tea and milk with bobas, and it was INCREDIBLY delicious. We also had warm pitas and goat cheese, my favorite of Dobra Tea's snacks. While we were there, Rachel asked me if I had a lot of weekly points left (we're doing Weight Watchers), and I said I did… so she lead me to a secret destination <3 Cupcakes! Portland was beautiful today - much cooler, with petals blowing on the sea breeze.

When we got home, I went to greet the other poplar tree (I'm not sure yet how to address her), and her upper branches were lit by the sunset. I hope I get to learn more about her.
elaby: (Fuyume - Blue)
I'm extremely excited to announce that we've put our first original art prints up in Cerulean Tree Studios! They're pagan-inspired illustrations done in ink and professional art markers. You may remember one from the Yule edition of Nature Nurtured :) We only have two prints right now (both available in 5x7 inches and 8x10 inches) but we're planning to add to them soon!

We have prints available of these two illustrations:

Warmth Grows thumb

rainbowstar thumb

Please visit our shop to take a look! I'd love to hear what you think of them, and if you have any suggestions for future illustrations, feel free to leave a comment! <3
elaby: (Cheburashka)
Oh, December. I always think "I'm not someone who gets stressed out by the holidays!" Ha. Ha.

We've been really busy the last couple of weeks, and luckily many of the things we've been doing have been fun things. Our after-work and weekend hours seem packed, though. I have physical therapy for my ankle twice a week (it's going well) and there have been lots of things going on at both my and Rachel's workplaces that require cooking, baking, present-buying, schedule-rearranging... @_@ Because the holidays are coming up, we're trying to cram in a few visits to relatives we won't be seeing on Christmas along with making and buying presents and helping out with stuff at our local Unitarian Universalist church. We were going to go to the Hanging of the Greens there yesterday, but we decided we just had too much to do at home :\ That stretched-thin feeling of never being at home was creeping up on me last week, though, so it was ultimately a good thing.

I'm weaving some Christmas presents this year, and it makes me super happy :D I always wanted a craft that's as fulfilling to me as knitting is to Rachel, and while I don't know if I can achieve that level of squee when it comes to crafts, I find weaving really fulfilling and I look forward to doing it. I wish my loom was more portable XD It's not something you can whip out at a cafe after you're finished your sandwich...

(Okay, now I want a Tofurky sandwich so bad. I may have to stop by Trader Joe's and get some sliced tofurkey. <-- Written earlier today. Had a Tofurky sandwich for dinner! Best 6-point sandwich EVER!)

I'm also really excited because, for the first time ever, I took the Solstice off work. This is the first year I've really had the opportunity because a) I have paid vacation time now and b) this is a New England Christmas year, whereas last year was a Colorado Christmas year. We're going to do a ritual at home during the day and then go to the Solstice service at our U.U. church in the evening :3 SO EXCITED. As I've gotten older, I've longed more and more for the moment when the sun starts coming back. The Solstice means a lot more to me as part of my personal spirituality than Christmas does; Christmas has an important place in the realm of family tradition instead. Even though we're not Christians, we both grew up in Christian families (nominally Christian, anyway - with various strengths of belief at various times). I want to honor the traditions we made as children and that our families passed down, and also to treat with respect the beliefs of Christian people I respect, even if they're not my beliefs.

Also I've been drawing ponies like whoa and I need to scan them or something. I have yet to find an acceptable mixture between the Friendship is Magic animation style and my own style. So things are looking kind of awkward at the moment. My first attempt at deviating from strictly FIM-style ended up looking so much more like a deer than a pony that I just turned it into a little reindeer... ^^;;
elaby: (Anthy - Western sky)
I'm probably too sleepy to blog about it coherently, but today we saw an amazing thing. In the morning, Rachel and I went apple-picking - it was a perfect day, bright blue skies and warm sun and breezes - and on the way back, I saw that I had a voicemail from my mother telling me that the Monarch butterflies were gathering at the state park where my dad works. It's a stop on their migration, but we had never been able to catch them and I'm not sure they've been there for a couple of years.

When we got to the park, we saw a couple of butterflies. More than you'd usually see in one place, but not flocks. It was super windy down by the beach where we were, so I'm not surprised XD We brought the hoops and hoop-danced a bit on the beach, which was lovely. Rachel went out into the water up to her knees (I'd forgotten my shorts) and then enticed me in too. I rolled my cuffs up and went out to my ankles. We were picking up our stuff back on the beach and Rachel was telling me about how remarkably clear the water was out where she was, and she knew I'd regret it if I didn't get to see it. So we went out about to our knees, and it was like rippled glass, so perfectly clear. But it was wavy, and we got soaked to our underwear XD XD XD

As we were coming up off the beach, we saw my dad and uncle! And then my mum came, because she wanted to see the butterflies too. It was so windy by now that there were no butterflies at all, but we went wandering around in our wet pants. We walked down a little wooded path where Monarchs flitted all around, flying above the low trees. Then we noticed a tiny trail up through the woods. I jogged up it first to see if it went anywhere, and I saw more and more Monarchs. Rachel and my mother followed, and at the top, there was a clearing with one of the park's pavilions. There were lots more butterflies up there - dozens and dozens - on goldenrod and bushes. We admired them for a while and then started down past the pavilion to see if there were any more...

And there was this big tree. Several trees, actually. The Monarchs were on them as thick as leaves.

There had to be thousands. They were flitting around and resting on the branches, most of them with folded wings, clinging to every available space. They didn't seem at all perturbed by people; we walked slowly up to the tree and sometimes, if we stepped on a crunchy leaf or something, a bunch of them would explode into the air and float around before settling back down again. The air was filled with them, and they were the most perfect orange against the blue of the sky.

I feel strongly about Monarch butterflies. I saw them everywhere when I first started looking into paganism as my spiritual path (it was around this time of year in 2007). To get to see so many of them all in one place was an experience I'll never forget.

(On the way home, our car broke down -_-;; Luckily we were right near the road where I grew up, so we pulled into my childhood park and called AAA. We had them tow it and my mum was luckily not all the way to her house yet, and she came to the garage and picked us up. She's letting us borrow her car <3 So the "Let's jump in the water, it's only a forty-minute ride home!" decision turned into about five hours with wet clothes XD Oh well, it was more than worth it!)
elaby: (Utena - Inverted)
Yesterday was Lammas :) Also Lughnasadh. I like Lammas because it's Saxon, involves bread, and is easier to pronounce. It comes from hlaf mass loaf mass in Old English, and I remember hlaf from OE class :3 Hlaford! The explanation on my "Forgotten English" calendar says it comes from "lamb mass" but I like the bread connection better.

Anyway, [livejournal.com profile] caitirin and I went to Tuttle's after work and bought small slices of various kinds of cheese (English Cotswald, Irish Cheddar, Brie, and Gouda), some bread rolls, flatbread crackers, and Wasa crackers. I wasn't too thrilled with the flatbread crackers, as they had some kind of really bitter herb on them, but the Wasa crackers were SO GOOD and they have enough fiber and no fat that one of them is free o_o and they're, like, two inches by four inches and they're YUMMY. We also had sauteed zucchini and summer squash with parmesan cheese :)

Pictures!





My wife is so beeyoutiful ^_^

Also, I drew a picture! Not for Lammas XD When I listen to YUKI (or Judy and Mary, since it's the same singer), I have a little character in my head who has her voice and sings the songs. Here she is :3

Hello, Orange Sunshine )

Now... time for bed, or time to watch Sherlock Holmes? Hmm.

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