The Woodmans Garden - Update

Wanted to give a quick update to all of you who have been following my ongoing story.  I have decided to cease entries in my blog.  If you are wondering why?  I am deciding to take what I have and work it a bit more and  create an actual book.  I am limited somewhat in the length and details I can go into with it being on a blog and I am learning with my style it could draw out a bit more than the month of October.  So... I am devoting more time to it outside of blog time.... If by chance any of you are still interested in the outcome or finished product..... just let me know and when available I would be glad to let you read it and give any criticism good or bad. 

The Woodmans Garden - Part 6

Grace entered the kitchen, to the aroma of Millie’s abilities as a wonderful cook. “I have already filled your cup dear.” Millie said referring to the small china cup which sat on a delicate matching saucer lined with small purple flowers, if you would call a thistle a flower. “Cream and 2 sugar, right love?” Grace nodded and sat in her assigned seat, as Millie sat a large plate of fresh blueberry scones on the table in front of her. There is fresh butter and lavender honey also if you like. She added.

Thomas stared at Grace while she sipped her morning coffee. She smiled at him yet he continued to stare at her with little expression. His consistency was beginning to make her uneasy when he finally spoke. “Why didn’t you ever visit James? Did you not like him?” Grace was not sure how to respond. She really hadn’t liked him yet she knew she could not say such a thing to Thomas. Fortunately she was saved when Faith entered the kitchen “Come on Thomas, it is time for school.” Thomas jumped out of his chair grabbing the remaining piece of bacon on his plate. “Goodbye Grammy” he said as he ran to Millie’s side and flung his arms around her waist. She returned his gesture and kissed his cheek as only a grandmother can. “Goodbye dear.” As they left the kitchen Millie turned back towards the sink which was piled high with dishes.

Grace had finished her second scone and she knew with food as good as this it would need to be her last. Stacking her cup and saucer on top of her plate, she rose to help clean the table. Millie turned and quickly stopped her. Don’t worry dear I will tend to those. Michael is waiting in the garden for you. Go ahead now. And she took the dishes from Grace’s hands.

Grace felt awkward as she was not certain as to how exactly to get to the garden. Millie could see her frustration. “Oh dear she said, out this door and then turn right. You can’t miss it. Here put this sweater on, there is a bit of a chill this morning. Millie handed a small red sweater to Grace. The collar was detailed with handmade lace. Tiny buttons of silver fell in a row down the front and a small pocket lay at the bottom on the right.

As Grace exited the back door she was glad Millie had given her the sweater. A slight breeze blew yet it was a cool one. A light fog still hung over the tree top as if to shelter the forest beyond from the coming warmth of the sun. Grace pulled the sweater closer and put her hand into the one pocket. She could feel something in the pocket. She pulled her hand out along with the pocket’s contents. As she opened her hand she found in her hand a smooth stone, green in color and another one of the white stones she had found the night before in her room within the velvet bag. Once again the figure inscribed resembled a B. She wondered what such things were. She put the contents back into the pocket as she saw Michael walking towards her from the garden shed across the way.

Well child what is it you wish to know? Grace barely knew where to start. So many questions. Would it be best if we talk in the kitchen while we wait for this fog to left, the old man stated. I am sure Millie will have a cup of tea for us. She smiled and nodded as she turned to return to where she had just come.

Returning to the kitchen she took the sweater she had worn and returned it to Millie. “There is something in the pocket. Grace remarked. Oh dear that is just my rune and malachite. Speaking of runes did you find your bag I left for you last night? “My bag?” Grace said in a questionable manner. “They belonged to you when you were young, Millie continued, A gift from your father. Grace looked puzzled. My father? She had never remembered her father speaking directly to her, let alone giving her a special gift.

I thought you might enjoy their return to your possession. Millie said. They should have never been taken from you; Regardless of all that happened.” Michael looked at Millie as if Millie quickly sat the 2 cups of tea she had prepared, once again in the small china cups with matching saucers lined in thistle and excused herself from the room.

The Woodmans Garden - Part 5

Grace approached the door to her room, more than ready to once again feel the comfort of the huge bed which was given her. Placing her hand on the small crystal knob, she suddenly stood motionless. She could hear voices and they seemed to be coming from her room. It sounded much like singing. Again as earlier when she first came. Who would be in her room? She had left the crowd of 4 in the kitchen earlier when she said her goodnights. Then who could this be. She shook her head as if to awaken herself from her thoughts and once again began to turn the knob leading into her room. As she pushed the door open she was surprised to find that her room was empty.

The small lamp next to the bed was lit as was a small candle on the table across the room. Her bed had been turned down and a cup of hot tea sat beside the candle. She noticed also 2 small pieces of stone on the table. They were white as the trees she had seen from her window. As she drew closer she could see that they appeared to have some design inscribed on each. She was unsure what each meant yet one appeared to resemble a B and the other an R. She had seen these before. She remembered playing with such stones when she was young. A small bag made of red velvet and lined with red silk sat behind the vase on the table. She reached for it feeling the softness of the velvet. A red cord tied the bag as to not allow what was inside to escape. Opening the bag she could see it contained stones similar to the ones on the table.

She dumped the contents of the bag onto the table. A total of 25 stones lay scattered across the table. She looked at them for some time. Maybe they would give her some clue as to the memories that seemed to be hidden in her mind. Yet nothing came to her. She returned them all to the red bag and pulled the cord closing it tightly and placed the bag back on the table by the candle. After enjoying the tea left for her, she retired herself to the awaiting bed and the sleep she deserved so.

The trees around her were dense and no matter which direction she looked she could not see any clearing to escape her dilemma of feeling she was lost. The sun appeared to slowly be setting; however any real point in time was difficult to penetrate the heavily covered branches above. She sat to collect herself and attempt to remember where she had come from. She was beginning to grow cold and her stomach growled from the hunger she had due to her plight. All directions appeared the same to her. Honestly she did not know for sure which directions she had come from. She would have to accept the fact that she may be in the woods after dark. She rose once more, determined not to waste any of the daylight which may remain.

The trees around her were white as ivory for they were birch. This was a good thing as their color helped to illuminate the last of the suns light giving Grace an ability to see. As Grace wandered further into her maze she noticed a woman sitting on a small tree that had appeared to have fallen. As the woman stood, grace could see her figure to be tall and lean and her skin the color of the birch itself, and her movements sleek and almost silent. The trees themselves seemed to acknowledge her presence.

She nodded her head to Grace as if to welcome her to the clearing she had come to occupy. Her hand outstretched in a gesture requesting Grace to come and join her presence. No words were spoken between the two, yet all was said that needed to be said. She reached down to where she had sat and retrieved something from a small bag and handed it to Grace. It was a small cake made of fresh crushed grains and wild berries which added color as well as flavor and sprinkled across the top was a substance which tasted like sugar.

Next she moved aside from where she stood and showed Grace a small natural spring of fresh water. Grace fell to her knees and began to cup the water in her hands to drink, yet the woman stopped her from doing so. From her belt she took a small silver ladle attached by a silver chain and handed it to Grace. Grace filled the ladle drinking until she was thirsty no more and returned it to the woman’s possession.

As Grace rose once more, the woman pointed towards the woods in front of her. Grace took it to be the direction she was to journey to finally reach home. Soon Grace saw the white trees which stood guard at the woods entrance. She had come home.

The early morning light shone through the window as Grace opened her eyes. Another dream. She wondered what this one meant. Did it mean anything at all? She did not know. She rose to prepare for the day and her many activities and also to find out the source of the wonderful smells she sensed. Yet in her mind she knew that it had to be Millie’s blueberry scones and fresh coffee.

The Woodman's Garden - Part 4

Grace quickly hurried out the door of her room and down the staircase. She wanted to know who this man in the garden was and why did he look at her so. Even more perplexing than this, why had she dreamt about him in such a vivid manner. She went straight toward the only room in the house she knew, the kitchen. She flung open the hinged door expecting to find Millie, the frail older woman whom she had met earlier. She was surprised that instead a younger woman stood in her place. Her eyes the same green and her hair a bright auburn like her own. “Supper will be ready shortly, the biscuits are finishing in the oven.” She spoke as if answering Grace’s questioning look.

Who is that man in the garden? What is he doing here? Grace spoke abruptly. The young woman smiled “that is my father; he tends the garden for Bayless Manor. Grace returned her cheerful answer with another likewise abrupt question. And who might you be? “I am Faith, daughter of Michael & Millie Calhoun. I help my mother out in the evenings with meals and extra chores.”

About that time laughter could be heard in the hallway and shortly after through the door walked Millie and the man Grace had seen in the garden earlier. ‘Welcome home child.” He said to Grace as he came closer. It is good to finally have you here with us. About that time a young boy, no more than 7 came running thru the door also. He stopped suddenly when he became aware that the room was filled with adults. With his head hung, he took off the hat which was perched on his head and held it solemnly. “Excuse me.” He muttered softly. Faith took the cap he held and ruffled his hair lovingly, “Wash your hands before supper Thomas James and your face also. And be polite and say hello to Grace, she is James’ little sister.

The boy looked at Grace and softly said hello, holding his small hand out to her in friendship. She shook the young boys hand and returned the greeting. She could not help but think he looked like someone she once knew, yet he turned before she could figure out whom and was off to clean up for supper. “He is my son.” Faith said as Thomas left the room. Grace smiled no knowing exactly how to respond. Soon the table was set and it was time to eat. Grace had so many questions buzzing around in her head. Yet as she took her first bite of the warm stew before her she could not see the urgency in any of them at the moment. It was delicious, no it was more than delicious… it was wonderful. She could taste the fresh carrots and potatoes as they mingled together in her mouth. Hints of fresh herbs of thyme, sage, and what she thought was rosemary were also present. And the fresh biscuits, did she mention the biscuits. Her first bite was like biting into a pillow. The taste of fresh butter was evident as well as a touch of chives. She could not help but remark to Millie, “This is absolutely wonderful” she said as she continued to eat. The others smiled as Millie replied, “I thought you would like your favorite meal on your first night home.”

With that said Millie rose from the table and returned with a large platter of sugar cookies. Grace looked at the platter as it sat before her. She reached out taking one of the large cookies. As she took her first bite it melted in her mouth. Remnant of the sugar that covered each cookie remained on her lips and she licked the excess away. “This sugar… it taste different, yet familiar, what is it?” she asked. Millie smiled again, “Lavender sugar dear.” Grace continued eating until she could eat no more. She could not remember the last time she had been privileged to such a grand meal even with its simplicity.

Grace noticed that the old man had watched her intently all through meal time. His eyes were soft and caring. She could not help but feel he was a kind soul. Finally she managed the courage to speak his way. “Faith tells me you are the grounds keeper.” He smiled and nodded. “If that is what you choose to call me. I have many functions at Bayless Manor, yet the upkeep of the grounds is foremost.” I help him; Thomas broke into the conversation and added. He is teaching me all he knows. Someday I will take his place.

Grace smiled. She wondered if they knew of the petitions to tear down the manor and its surroundings. Truly nothing she had seen thus far gave her reason to see why such a thing would need to be done. She wondered why the towns’ people would request such an action. She spoke once more thanking Millie and Faith for the beautiful meal and for all they had done to make her arrival pleasant. She then turned to the old man once more and spoke.

“Would it be possible for you to show me around the manor tomorrow? I have many questions and I feel you are the one to give me all the answers I need.” The expression on his face as he gave his reply seemed to be one of joy, “Of course child, I would be honored.” “Can I come too?” Thomas once again broke in. “Of course you may.” Grace replied. With that being said, she excused herself and retired to her room to prepare for bed. As tomorrow, she felt, would be a busy day.

The Woodmans Garden - Continued

The smell of flowers and soft sound of music could be heard as she opened her eyes. Violins? She was not sure yet the song sounded familiar as if it was one she had heard before and often, yet she could not place it. She rose and walked to the window. Below the grounds of the manor stretched out before her. Beautiful groomed trees, multicolored flowers, and a labyrinth of pathways throughout the neatly cut hedges of holly & ivy.

The beauty was breathtaking. Then she saw them. At the entrance to the wooded forest stood what appeared to be 4 tree trunks. They had been cut approximately 4 feet from the ground. They stood as if guards to the forest’s entrance and glistened in the sunlight for they were the color of snow. A man suddenly appeared from the forest walking between 2 of the ivory trees. His hair was as white as the trees themselves and came down past his shoulders. It was accompanied by an identical flowing beard. He carried a slender staff in his hand as he walked and wrapped around him was a cloak of grey.

As he made his way through the maze of hedges which eventually led to the opening of the garden, his face rose until his eyes met hers. Although she stared at him from a great distance, she could tell he knew her and that his eyes were fixed directly on her. Just then a small figure appeared, running towards the old man. It appeared to be a young girl. The old man took the small child up into his arms swinging her around. Her auburn curls danced on her head as she allowed herself to spin in his arms, her facial expressions making it quite obvious that she was enjoying herself. As the old man sat her back down to the ground she too turned her face up towards the huge window which Grace stood behind. As Grace returned the little girls gaze she was astonished to realize that she looked very much like herself. Unable to take her eyes off of the child what happened next astounded her even more.

The little girl reached for a necklace which hung around her neck. She took the object hanging from its center in her hand and held it, all along not breaking her gaze with Grace. Then Grace realized that she too was holding tightly to the amulet which hung from her neck.


Grace jerked suddenly, awakening from her slumber and still clutching to the necklace which she wore. She had been dreaming all this time. The sun still shone brightly yet just a bit lower in the sky. She quickly rose and went towards the window she had only previously been gazing out of in her dream.


As she looked down, the trees were not as groomed, the flowers were few and not anywhere near multi-colored, the faint path through the hedges could barely be seen. Yet the 4 white tree trunks which stood in guard of the forest entrance were still solemnly in place. Still they glistened in the sunlight as before. Then just as in her dream only moments before, the old man with white flowing hair and beard and clothed in a grey cloak with staff in hand appeared. And just as before his eyes were fixed on her.

October 1st & All is Well

Well it is the first day of October and what a wonderful month it has been so far.... I have won 2 wonderful giveaways (Domestic Witch-Queen of Cups and Byrum Art - First Print) and just finished entering 4 more on Mrs. Bs 31 days of Halloween... Eventful to say the least....I am in the process of finishing up my very first giveaway... I am hoping to get it posted this weekend.. so be sure and keep an eye out for it...

Today I promised you the next chapter to my on-going story "The Woodsman Garden". I have really enjoyed writing this and want to thank all of you who have shared in your responses. It means a great deal to me.. Enjoy the story.

The Woodman's Garden - 2nd entry

A soft tinkling sound could be heard as she attempted to unlock the front door which stood before her. The keys she had been given were of an odd nature. Misshapen into forms she had not seen before. From the sounds they made as they fell against one another she wondered if possibly they were made of silver. She could barely recall the last time she had stepped foot into Bayless Manor. She could not have been more than possibly 5. It had been James’ birthday. His 7th to be exact. It had been a grand party. Although it had been a birthday party for a 7 year old boy, few children were in attendance.
The guests were made up of older men dressed in long flowing robes. She had not been allowed to attend the party. She was required to stay in the kitchen area with her mother and the few other women who were present. She remembered not caring to much of the outcome as she was allowed to eat all the sugar cookies and drink all the fresh lemonade she could want. She remembered her mother crying softly in the corner at one time and her grandmother sternly shaking her finger at her. She did not hear what was said to her mother yet as time passed it was an event that she would witness often between the two of them.

Finally the right key was placed into the lock which securely held the world out of Bayless Manor. As she turned the key, she could feel the tumblers inside the lock give way. Slowly she pushed the large door open and stepped into the entrance. Although the many years passed could easily be seen, the beauty was present also. The flowing staircase before her led its way up to the second floor where its’ pattern continued along the railing that circled the entire view. She was not certain, but the color and grain of the wood appeared to be of a like she had not seen before. Sunlight shone through a great cathedral window which was positioned directly above the entry. It broke into fragments, forming prisms of multicolored light which danced across the floor like small fairies.

Sitting her one suitcase on the floor beside her, she was startled by a loud noise. She had assumed the manor was empty as she had not been told otherwise. She grabbed a large candlestick which sat on a table not far from where she had stood and began to walk down the hallway towards the unidentified noise. Again the noise sounded. Frightened yet determined to find its cause, she continued. As she reached the door to where its origin seemed to be she could now hear a more subtle sound and what she thought to be singing. It was a woman’s voice yet the words were unrecognizable to her.

She slowly pushed the door inward, candlestick in hand. Standing at a wooden work table was a frail looking older woman. Her hair was white with slight hints of what used to be red. As she looked up, her eyes of bright green danced like those of a young girl. Flour dust was in the air and covered the table. By her surroundings she assumed she had entered the kitchen.

“Gracie you’ve come home.” The old woman dusted her hand off on her apron and walked towards her at a pace that for her was probably a run. As the old woman embraced her she was confused. This woman knew her, she called her by name, yet Grace did not know who she was. When the woman realized from Grace’s lack of response that she did not know who she was, she quickly pulled back. The old woman’s eyes did not look as young now that she stood before Grace so closely. It was obvious that she was a woman of many years.

“I am sorry.” She spoke. “It has been so long; of course you don’t remember me. It’s Millie; I tended you often when you were a wee child.” Grace smiled although she did not remember any of what the old woman spoke of. The old woman continued, “I tended the manor while James was its keeper and stay still after his passing. It is and always has been my home, I hope you don’t mind.”

Grace was glad to have someone there. She had many questions and it would be helpful to have someone who was familiar with the home to show her around. You must be exhausted, Millie stated as she took Grace by the arm and led her from the kitchen. I have made your room ready for you. Come I will show you where it is. The old woman led Grace up the flowing staircase she had admired earlier. As they reached the top a turn to their right led them to the east wing of the Manor. Stopping at a door not far down the hall, Millie stopped before opening the door and spoke. This was your mother’s favorite room. She loved how it overlooked the garden and how the early morning sun would shine in and wake her each morning. With that said the door opened to reveal a beautiful sun filled room.

 As Grace walked to the center of the room, it felt as if she was inside a moment in time, a moment of the past. Lace curtains fell from the windows which opened up to the garden below, fresh flowers sat in the crystal vase next to the bed, a beautiful tiffany style land sat on the opposite side. The large 4 posted bed between the two stood inviting Grace to rest. I will call you for dinner, Millie said as she closed the door behind her. Grace’s drive had been long and sleep sounded good. She kicked off her shoes and lay on the soft pillows. Her eyes closed and she was gone.

Story for Halloween

October is fast approaching.  Like many I am participating in Mrs. B's 31 days of Halloween as well as Domestic Witch October Blog party.  I have many different things planned through out the month of October, yet one that I would like to give you a taste of early is my on going story.  It is called "The Woodman's Garden". 

Especially written with the Halloween spirt as well as others in mind, I hope that this little morsel will bring you back for more.  Be sure and look for the next installment on October 1st. 

The Woodman's Garden

Many years had passed since last she had seen the sights that were before her now. Truly she had believed they were a thing of her past. She had left vowing never to come back or even near this vicinity again. Too much pain and terrifying memories had occurred before and finally she had escaped. She was free. Free to be whoever and whatever she wanted to be. She left on that rainy October morning with all she had: herself. And that was really all she needed.

Yet here she was 11 years later. The same thing that had made her leave all those years ago was the same thing that brought her back, death. The first time it was her mother’s passing and this time it was the untimely death of her brother James. They had lost all contact after their mother’s death yet it was as she had wanted it to be, as did he. Although they shared the same mother this was where it ended. They did not have memories of close sibling ties. On the contrary, their relationship memories were often scarce and at times violent.

It was the lawyer who had contacted her to inform her of his fate and well after the funeral. She had not even known of his illness or sudden death until that afternoon when she received the call; the call that informed her that she was the last living heir to the Bayless estate. Although honestly, she never truly felt a true member of the family.

Memories of whispers and talk since she could remember filled her mind. They never really liked her, nor her mother. Yet her mother had choose the “Bayless way” and kept silent of their reasons. When her father, Mr. Bayless, passed her mother became even more distant. It was as if she did not acknowledge her anymore. When her mother passed she wept silently and alone for she knew she would never know all the secrets that she would take with her to her grave.

After her mother’s funeral, her brother continued the same treatment towards her. The will was quickly read and it was James who was placed in control. A meager allowance was given to her yet nothing more. It was as if it was the Bayless way of solidifying their intentions and feelings towards her once and for all. So she left, for there was nothing truly which held her there any longer.

As she met with the lawyer and he began to inform her of all the assets that now rest in her possession, she was astounded to find out the accumulative wealth she had just acquired. She had no idea there was so much. As he spoke of the Bayless manor she laughed. She found it comical that he would call the simple house in which she grew up a manor. He quickly corrected her, informing her that the house which she spoke of no longer existed. It had been torn down and burned shortly after the death of her mother 11 years ago. He spoke of Bayless Manor that lies on the outskirts of town.

It was the home in which her father’s grandparents had lived in the mid 1800’s. Passing it down to her grandfather Floyd and later to her father. A second home, slightly smaller stood adjacent to the main manor. The story was that it housed orphans up until the late 1800’s when it was suddenly shut down. It had long been boarded up and to her knowledge not used for anything but possibly occasional storage since she could remember.

She was given the keys to the manor as well as to any other buildings she could possibly need access to. The home was old and had not been kept up as it needed to be by her late brother James. She was informed of a petition being circulated throughout the town to tear the old home down as well as all buildings on the property. This was part of the reason that she had arrived back in her home town. She had a short period of time to review all she had be given and decide what actions to take in regards to their futures.

As she pulled her car up to the dreary home it loomed over her like her childhood, dark and uninviting.