.HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTHER.

it’s my Mumsie’s birthday today. she’s some age i do not know. the only birthday i remember of my Mumsie’s is when she turned 39. so she’ll always be 39 to me.

I

♥

YOU.

(like the dickens.)

she turned some age i do not know in our town soup kitchen. pretty darn special. you know, i turned 18 at a library puppet show… we have birthdays in the oddest places.

(i was a butcher of sorts today. cutting meat for a very long time. i.hated.it. i shall never ever marry a butcher. i just couldn’t love a butcher.)

sleep is falling from my eyelids right now. i have been going going going. i stayed up till 12 o’clock last night typing up a little “I Love You” book for Mumsie. then i woke up at 7 o’clock and went to the cul-de-sac with Miss Tandy and picked her flowers. then we headed to the soup kitchen till 2 o’clock. then we went to a little tea party/birthday party at a friend’s house. then Miss Tandy and i went to xc practice. then the grocery store. and last, i am home. i left the house at 10 o’clock this morning and got home at 6:30ish. funny, how you can leav,e and not step foot into your house until a long long time. it made me laugh. and it made me tired. but i really ought to settle down and write in my novel. but i really ought to spend some more time with my Mumsie. maybe i’ll do both. or maybe i’ll fall asleep.

i hope she had a good day. i hope she knows i love her (she should. i only told har about a jazillion times). if she hasn’t gotten it yet though,

I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I SAID MOMMY.

‘BOUT A 100 TIMES MORE.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY. AGAIN.

(i love you. again.)

love.

-Bella.dear

just one bouquet.

today we head off to camp for a day and tomorrow. i’m going to miss my Lala coming home from her camp. O dear. *sigh*

but it’s dandy nontheless. i get to see some a.m.a.z.i.n.g. friends. my hair is curled. and there’s a mustard coloured pencil skirt waiting for me on my bed. not to mention i can type away until it’s time to leave….

i’m thinking about flowers right now. i love to type about flowers on my typewriter. tulips. sunflowers. poppies. daisies. roses. all of them. those are some of my favourite words to type. flowers can make the most silly or terrible thing romantic. just one bouquet. just one.

(they’re watching Wishbone on t.v. i ♥ Wishbone. i used to watch it when i was little. it made me want a Jack Russel Terrier that could talk, but there were none. *sigh*)

now off to my cup of tea, packing my backpack, typing about The girl in the yellow dress and The boy at the third table on the left, and that pencil skirt.

Love.♥

-Bella

.i’m.

today i’m -

*going to my Lala’s to spend the night.

*hopefully buying some S.Pellegrino.

*{wearing a purple skirt.}

*writing more letters.

*♥-i-n-g everything.

*bringing tea.

*wearing a spoon ring.

*making surprises.

*a superhero, it seems.

*liking the little braid in my hair.

*sitting.

*thinking of Shakespeare….and William Wilberforce and William Pitt.

*distracting myself.

*wondering why boys like sound effects so much….

*going to pick flowers.

*telling you to do this.

*up and at ‘em.

*in an apron mood.

*sure.

*happy.

*pondering white dresses with eyelet and turquoise heels and blue eyes and pale yellow shirts and vintage hats and red.

*enthusiastic.

*so excited i’m *blushing* my cheeks off with anticipation.

*thinking of tomorrow.

*in love.love.love.

-Bella

picking no-one’s cherries…

there is a little cherry tree planted on the sidewalk in our town in front of a musuem. i think it’s there on accident. *oops* but i ♥ it ever since the day Mr.Sam pointed it out to me. who knew there was a cherry tree on the sidewalk? such a grand surprise. {it reminded me of Miss Kirstie Rae and her cherry-stained fingers.}

so today, i went for a walk with Franny and Miss Tandy.  and that cherry tree didn’t stand a chance. even though we had (1) teapot, (2) books, and (3) cans of Arizona Tea®. we came home with a whole bag of cherries. we sort of “borrowed” them. (if you really wanted to, you could maybe say we half-way stole them. but they didn’t really belong to anyone…) picking no-one’s cherries is a lovely thing to do. especially in a skirt.

{i wore a little brown skirt again today.}

i made some cookies. in the shape of doggies. quite cute if you ask me. but i forgot to put my apron on. *blush* i am such a forgetful person at times. i love-hate-like-detest it when i forget things. certain things. i love forgetting my age and standing there thinking about how old i am. and i hate forgetting my dress on the way to a wedding and figuring out i forgot when we’re already 4 hours into the trip. i like forgetting the tea i made in the morning and finding it later on. and i detest forgetting to brush my teeth before i go to bed. i forget. a lot.

we went and picked flowers in the cul-de-sac a few hours ago. there’s now a smashing bouquet on our table. i took pictures of it. you’ll see them tomorrow. maybe. (i might forget. *wink*) i wanted to be a flower-arranger of wedding bouquets tonight. i want to be a lot of things. so i just write. and my characters get to be a lot of things. while i get to be my favourite thing. a writer.

i got a book today. Romeo and Juliet-West Side Story. 2 of my favourite stories. put together.

——————————————-

“Today, all day I had the feeling

A miracle would happen—

I know now I was right.

For here you are

And what was just a world is a star

Tonight!”

-Tony.West Side Story, Act I, Scene V.

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“…Thus with a kiss I die.”

-Romeo.Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III.

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adore it. absolutely.

i need to water Clyde tomorrow. Mumsie usually remembers for me. but Clyde is too special to forget.

(Vivian is a flower-arranger of wedding bouquets. wouldn’t it be bad if she fell in love with the groom? whose name is….George.)

i found some darling bottle caps on our walk today. i cannot wait to make something out of them.

(the cherries are very red. i like it.)

-Bella♥

.Miss Tandy.hot feet.sweet tid-bits.daisies.

i walked down to the park yesterday with Miss Tandy. it was actually quite awful. my feet were hot (which i despise wholeheartedly), and with my feet being hot and all, my head began to hurt. awful as it was though, i started to enjoy myself a mile into it. i find that when my head hurts, i can think a little better at times. and one can’t help but enjoy themselves when they are thinking superbly. it felt like little .f.l.o.w.e.r.p.e.t.a.l.s. were being dropped into my noggin. which made me come up with this sweet tid-bit:

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“he loves me…he loves me not…” she dropped each daisy petal about her feet where she sat as she said the words. a chuckle sounded behind her. she didn’t even bother to look. so he walked around to face her. then, she bothered to look at him. his hair was mussed and his tie undone. his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and in one of his hands was a small bouquet of daisies. he set the bouquet on her lap as he sat down beside her. “i thought you might want to try some of these.” she glared at him. “what did you do? count their petals?” his smile was a dead give-a-way. “oh, what’s the use?” she flicked the petals from the skirt of her green dress. “they all say the same thing. i’m playing a child’s game for goodness sake!” he only laughed and lay down and stared up at the sky. she fumed. but only for a while. then she lay down next to him. a curl of her auburn hair landed on his lips. he gently removed it. she sighed. “i just don’t know if he really loves me.” he didn’t say anything. so they just lay there. and he secretly fingered and carressed the curl that had landed on his face. and then he whispered, “i know i love you.” but she didn’t hear him. so they just lay there.

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thought i’d let you take a peek at that.

-Bella