A Fairie's Tale

The sun shone down on windy lane cottage on a beautiful summer day. All the flowers were dancing in the garden as a gentle breeze brushed across the tops of their heads and ruffled their curling leaves. Birds twittered in the tree tops and bees hummed as they flitted here and there, darting in and out amongst the dancing flowers.



Christabelle Woodland loved living in such a snug little place. Here she felt warm and she felt safe and she felt, well . . . happy. I wonder, she thought to herself, what it is that makes me feel this way. Where is it that I can find bliss? What is bliss? Where is joy? What is joy? These questions kept swirling around and around in her little fairy mind and so she set off to find out the answer amidst the to's and fro's of Windy Lane.



"Ahhh" . . . purred the china cat sitting on the table at the top of the stairs. "Bliss is having a comfy chair to curl up on and a nice soft blanket to keep you warm . . . a bowl of warm milk and a fire to watch . . . Joy is having someone to stroke your ears and rub your belly."

Christabelle thought that sounded quite true, and very very nice, but . . . she thought to herself, there has to be more, and so she journied on.



She came across two china bluebirds preening themselves on the sideboard. "What brings you joy?" she asked. "Where do you find your bliss?"

They ruffled their pretty blue feathers as if to say. . . what a silly question and then the chipper little one on the left piped up. "Joy is having a song to sing and someone to sing it to!" And with that, he went back to picking and plucking at his feathers . . .

Ohh, that sounds nice thought Christabelle as she hummed a little tune to herself, but there has to be more, and so . . . she went on . . .



"What gives you joy? Where is your bliss?" She asked the tiny bird that perched inside the painted wooden birdhouse that sat on the library windowsill.

"That's easy!" He chirruped and cheeped. "Bliss is having a warm roof over your head and a place to sit your feet. A place to keep you dry when the rain falls and warm when the wind blows."

"That's nice." she thought to herself, but she was still unsure if it was enough, and so . . . she thanked him very kindly and went journeying on her way.



Before too long she stumbled upon Sylphia Pink, who was prancing and swirling across the top of the dressing table in the big bedroom, her green sylph-like wings fluttering here and there as she drifted past. She almost looked too busy to ask as she fluttered back and forth, but Christabelle gathered up her courage and blurted the words out anyways.

Sylphia stopped and looked her up and down, taking in her dull brown wings and woody cap atop her head, almost with disdain . . . as if she could well and truly believe that this very ordinary fairy could not possibly have any idea whatsoever of what true happiness was or where it lay . . .

"My goodness," She huffed and she puffed, as she began to prance about again. "Joy is having a pretty dress to wear and silky wings to flutter . . . and a mirror to watch yourself in from morning to night." and with that, she turned her head as if to dismiss Christabelle and went back to prancing in front of the mirrored glass.

"There has to be more than that." muttered Christabelle to herself as she went on her way.



Down in the kitchen, next to the stove she ran into Pierre, the very French Chef. "Well," he muttered in his very French way,"Happiness eees a pot to stir avec a very big spoon to stir it with." His big black moustache twitched and bobbed as he smiled down at her.

"I couldn't help hearing." a soft voice drifted in from over on the window sill. Christabelle looked up to see a pretty pink and smiling face looking over at her.



It was the cookie jar lady. She was really a big pig, but nobody liked to tell her so, for she was always smiling and so very cheery, and nobody wanted to make her frown and spoil her happiness.

"Joy," she snorted "Joy is having a belly full of good things to eat and a window to look out into the garden with." and then she chuckled merrily, her fat little belly bobbing up and down under her fluffy white apron.



"That's right!" piped up the cowboy pig at the other end of the windowsill."Not to mention being able to smile even if your face is cracked and your star's gone black. It's knowing you matter anyways, and are loved in spite of all your cracks and crinkles." He winked at the cookie jar lady. He knew she was a pig too, but was too polite to say so.

"Ohh, thanks so much!" Christabelle smiled, and who could help but smile with two such cheery faces shining down on you. She wandered out into the garden.



"Joy, is seeing all the beauty that lies around you, and stopping to smell the roses." whispered Sigfried the wood fairy as a butterfly danced upon his fingertips. "It's all the things around you that make you feel all warm inside your heart. The best things in life are free. They are a gift from above."



"It's reaching beyond yourself, and climbing to a higher, loftier places." piped up Harvey the acorn fairy, as he reached for another branch to perch upon, his fairy wings fluttering lightly in the soft breeze that whispered about their heads.



"It's knowing the love of family and friends." Pippa piped up excitedly from amongst the apple blossoms that lined the branches of the old apple tree that stood in the corner of the garden. She was so excited that the branch bobbed up and down and petals drifted to the ground like a soft winter's snow fall . . .



"Don't forget!" chimed in Cassandra from amongst the chinese lanterns that grew under the old oak tree."It's having a light to guide you on your way and help you to find the right path when you are stumbling and wandering about in the darkness."



"Yes," agreed Harry as he waved his pretty wings in the air. "It's all those things and much much more. Joy is feeling good within yourself and knowing who you are and not wanting to be anyone else. It's enjoying the love of family and friends and wanting to help others. It's being still and hearing the voice that can only be heard when you are still, and quiet . . . and listening. Being happy is being who you are, where you are, when you are, and knowing in your heart that that's all you ever want to be."

All was quiet amidst the flowers of the garden, save the gentle noise from fluttering wings as they all took it in.



"Me thinks you are the wise one." came Clothilde's tiny voice from amongst the oak leaves that lay dry at the edge of the garden. Bliss is here. Bliss is now. Bliss is all around us. It's not something we need to go out and look for. It's already with us. We just have to stop and see that it's here"

And with that, they all pranced inside the house and decided to have some cake . . . because . . . what good is all that bliss, without a little bit of cake. There was still some leftover from the weekend that the big people hadn't managed to eat yet . . . a few crumbs would never be missed.
~THE END~

I hope you didn't mind me sharing this little flight of fancy with you this morning. I had such a fun time going around the cottage here and taking photographs to share with you of some of the little pretties that lay here and there. There were a lot more, but I'll save them for another time and in the meantime I'll leave you with my recipe for Chicken Korma. I know, it's not cake . . . but we're not all fairies are we . . . a steady diet of cake gets old real fast!



*Chicken Korma*
Serves 4

Can you believe I had never really had curry until I moved over here to England? Neither can I. Oh what I was missing all those years! Next to fish and chips this is like the national dish of England. I have fallen totally in love with it. I like to serve this mild version with some pilau rice and naan bread to soak up all that lovely sauce with.

1 1/2 lbs skinless chicken breasts, cubed
1/2 ounce ground almonds
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2 tablespoons oil
4 green cardamom pods, bruised
1 onion, finely chopped
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 pint plain yogurt
1 cup single cream
1 tablespoon chopped fresh coriander leaves
1 tablespoon toasted sliced almonds

Mix the ground almonds,and garlic with the ginger and a little water in the blender and blitz briefly to make a paste. (If you like things a bit spicier you can add a bit of chili powder.)

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the oil and when it is good and hot, add the chicken pieces and brown them all over. Remove with a slotted spoon and keep warm.

Turn down the heat a bit and add the cardamom pods, cumin and onions to the pan and cook, stirring for about 5 minutes, until the onions are nicely softened without browning, and the mixture is quite fragrant. Stir in the almond paste and cook for 5 minutes longer over low heat.

Slowly add the yogurt to the pan stirring all the time until the mixture is smooth. Return the chicken in the pan, cover and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the cream and cook for a final 5 minutes. Stir in the almonds and coriander and serve.

Sunny Saturdays, Empty Holes and Aunt Ferns Coconut Cookies

We are enjoying a lovely and sunny Saturday again here at Oak Cottage. It is a most beautiful start to the month of March. There is a bit of a cold wind still about, but all in all, it's a gorgeous day. The kind of day that inspires you to wander about outside and peek at all the little things that are coming back to life after the recent cold and wet winter months.



I guess I am a kind of a fanciful person at heart. There is this big tree down at the edge of our property that has a hollow right at it's base. It's not just any hole though . . . it's a very intriguing hole . . . deep and dark, and full of lots of scraps of earth and leaves and rotting bark.

Every time I walk by it on my way to work, I look at the hole . . . just laying there empty and I long to fill it with something, with some piece of my heart. I want to take a big rock and paint it up like a fairy house and plant it right between the roots, tucked into the hollow heartbeat of the tree. Tis only lack of time, and the fear of someone stealing it that prevents me from doing just that. If I had my way, there would be little fairy houses tucked in here and there all throughout our cottage garden.



Today, I don't know if it was the sunshine or what, but, the mood just hit me and I ran back into my house and grabbed one of my fairies and planted her in the rotting moss and dirt laying in the hole. She looked so sweet there and so magical . . . so inviting. Oh, how I wish I could leave her there so that each day as I walked past on my way to work I could be inspired . . . I just know that she was right in her element, and that she had a very pleasant time playing there amongst the moss and leaves . . .



Alas, she is a travelling fairy though, and it was not long before she made her way to a windowsill, having been intrigued by the blown glass panels that spot them here and there at the front of the house, near the never used front doorway . . .



The next thing I knew, she had made her way down to the windowsill in front of the window which lets the light into our laundry room, still carrying her treasured berry so blue. I think she really likes my new curtains, but then again . . . she is a blue fairy afterall, and she lives in the country.

Before too long though, I cup her in my hands and carry her back in to the house where it's warmer, and the smell of baking cookies helps her, and me, settle in for a nice hot cup of herbal tea and a cookie warm and fresh from the oven . . . one of Aunt Fern's Coconut Cookies. Not having any children around any more, I haven't had one of these delicious treats in years. My, but it's so very good to revisit an old friend like this after such a long absence . . . I love delicious friends such as these . . .



*Aunt Ferns Coconut Cookies*
Makes about 4 dozen

Aunt Fern was my ex husband's Aunt on his mother's side. She lives in an rambling old farmhouse set amongst huge old oak trees in the beautiful countryside of rural Prince Edward Island, and these cookies are exactly what country cooking is all about. Crisp, buttery, wholesome and moreish as the British say. I bet you can't eat just one!

1 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup flaked coconut
2 cups rolled oats
1 cup chopped pecan nuts (not in the original recipe, but something I like to add)

Pre-heat the oven to 180*C/350*F. Line some baking sheets with aluminum foil and then spray them lightly with cooking spray.

Cream together the butter and the sugars, until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs and vanilla.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, soda and salt. Stir this into the creamed mixture. Stir in the coconut, oats and pecan nuts. Mix well.

Drop by tablespoons onto the prepared baking sheets, at least 2 inches apart. Bake for 12 to 14 minutes until lightly browned.

Remove from the oven and let sit on the baking sheet for several minutes before removing to a wire rack to finish cooling.

I was really excited the other day to find out that Marye of Apron Strings and Simmering Things had decided to gift me with an award! I was thrilled to receive the Excellent Blog Award from her. Thanks so much Marye!!! You really made my day. As with anything good, this only gets better when you choose to share it and so, without further adieu I am sharing it with five other foodie blogs that I think are excellent and deserving of a bit of love.




Hannah of Hannah's Country Kitchen A finalist in last years Masterchef competition Hannah is always sharing little snippets of her country life with us and also great food. This lady can bake!

Maryann of Finding La Dolcevita NOBODY does food porn like Maryann. I love her wit and enthusiasm for everything Italian. This is a lovely blog.

Nic of Cherrapeno Nic is an ace baker and photographer. A lover of chilies and chocolate. She just lives in the next village to me and we often get together to compare foodie cooking notes and share recipes. She's a real great friend and her photos are wow.

Joy from Joy The Baker A relative newcomer, I fell in love with Joy's page the first time I happened upon it. She takes really, really good pictures and her page is inviting and homey.

Kevin of Closet Cooking I got addicted to Kevin's page very early on in my food blogging experience. He always has something lucious on his page and he writes a bit like Nigel Slater. Well worth the read.

Do you Believe in Fairies?

I have long carried on a love affair with small whimsical beings called Fairies. As a child I would devour and read any book about them that I could find, most of them having been written by Enid Blyton. I truly believed that fairies hid underneath every dry leaf and every flower in our back garden and was always on the look out for the tell tale signs of their having been around. They lived in a mysterious world of enchantment that, as humans, we were only allowed an occasional furtive glimpse into. The sight of a fairy ring of toadstools on the mossy floor of a forest has always fueled my deepest imaginations, and indeed if you were to look across the rolling fields behind our cottage on a warm summer's day the air will be filled with little fairy wings dancing in the soft breeze. Some would say seed pods on their airborned journey, but I say differently.



As a lover of Fairies, my home is full of them. They peek out at every corner . . . especially when you least expect them. There are wood nymphs, and tiny beings with feathery whispy wings tucked in every nook and cranny. There is even one peeking out of a glass bubble which hangs over my kitchen sink. She watches me as I wash the dishes and somehow the chore seems easier to manage . . . Some are very magical looking, others are somewhat mystical, and still yet others are a bit dangerous looking. All are beautiful.

I was shopping the other day and discovered yet something else which captured my fancy. A small tin amongst others, but still this one caught my eye . . .



How can one fail to be entranced by a tin with the tell tale words "Fairy Dust" whispering across it's pink,and gold splattered lid.

A tiny, tiny princess
came to earth one day,
And if one listens closely,
we can hear her say,
A morning star in the East
still rises, still
today,The stillness touched
in solitude,
Amidst the breaking
of the waves.
~s.k.lindeman

I am in love at first glance. I cannot wait to get it home and see what magic resides inside . . .



As I open the lid a beautiful smell wafts up to my nostrils. It is at once magical and mysterious. It smells like cotton candy and babies . . . and the special way my mother used to smell when she was all dressed up on a Saturday night before going to a dance with my father. It is comforting and ethereal and whimsical. Look . . . there are lovely pink rocks peeking up at you from it's melted glassine surface. Only fairies can have pink rocks like that. It must be true . . .



Once lit, it's perfumed magic weaves it's spell around me and I am in another world. A world where it's ok to dream, and mystery abounds . . . where apple trees are full of blossom all year round and nature rings out with it's supernatural powers of seduction, in a world which parallels our own. If we but look to find it, we shall . . .

I am filled with the need to bake a cake, a fairy cake, sweet and pretty, and covered in speckles of pink fairy dust. Afterwards I shall sit in my chair, all in darkness save the soft light of my fairy candle, it's mystical fragrance surrounding me. I shall eat it and dream of magical kingdoms and hidden worlds . . .