If ever there was an artist who was as graceful as the females that she so perfectly paints, it is Stephanie Roberts. Her art is so elegant and feminine, with a gentleness that evokes her very spirit. Stephanie’s style is reminiscent of the Art Nouveau period and is truly timeless. She takes you on a journey of myth and legends, back into another time, where I think maybe she herself would be comfortable, even into the wonderful Rapunzel book she is currently working on, which I can’t wait to see and read - keep an eye on her web site www.stephanieroberts.com (we also have an interview recorded with Stephanie, ready to podcast when Drew can work out how to clone himself...) As you talk with Stephanie, you realise that she is one of those rare folk whose eyes are drinking in everything you say with an understanding way beyond her years and this lifetime, I feel so privileged to know this special lady. Her essence is like the bubble that we watched (in amazement, as it hovered on the carpet for a whole hour next to where we were chatting!); iridescent, fragile and beautiful, just like my dear friend.

One of funniest things to see from our kitchen - as you stand by the kettle as it is boiling, and look out the backdoor - is a little vole who scurries out from the edge of the cover of grass to pinch a sunflower seed that’s dropped from a bird feeder and whizzies back again, all under the obvious misapprehension that we can’t see him! He’s so cute and makes us laugh everytime he does it and if the birds are ground feeding, they don’t seem to mind him at all. Sometimes this dear vole and his family, find their way into the cottage (much to JellyBean's delight) but as they’re not as quick as mice, you can catch them eventually (before the dog does!) and pop them back outside. They are gorgeous to look at, like a tiny Ratty from the Wind in the Willows, whiskers twitching and trying to persuade us to leave our whitewashing and springcleaning and go for a picnic along the river – what a wise thing he is…

Magical Blessings, Be

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”