the tale of me and Emily Chalmers...

if you are sitting comfortably, then i shall begin...

once upon a time lived Tif, it was many moons ago and she was misplaced and some may say, quite positively lost in a land of reproduction furniture and fancy front living rooms.

one day, Tif found herself pottling in the book store as she was apt to do, of a friday afternoon with a young clan. she thought it most nice of the book folks to place the children's books next to the craft and interior books. as she perused the shelves whilst glancing over at her clan from time to time, her little beady eye spied 'flea market style' upon the shelves of creative goodness.

Tif gasped 'thee gasp'... upon taking down this peachy book and beginning to turn the pages, she knew this was a wonderful happening to outdo all happenings that had ever happened to her in a book store before. After several page turns, it became quite apparent to Tif she was no longer alone and lost with her granny chic loving ways.

(please note, at this time Tif did not know her granny chic loving ways had a name such as granny chic, that lovely little term of description came later in her life, but for this story i popped it in because it does describe so well what Tif liked)

Tif clutched her 'find', indeed hugging it like an old friend, she then rustled up her little clan and headed home to her cookie cutter new build in Edward ScissorHand land.

from that day forward, Tif kept her little 'flea market style' book by Emily Chalmers on her bedside cupboard. some days when she was a little lost, she would open it and lose herself amongst the pages.

(i am thinking it quite true to say, if you were to ask Tif, she would probably be able to tell you each and every room laid out within its fine peachy pages, was the extent of her attachment to the book.)

roll on quite a few moons, possibly over 50 of them or more and Tif found herself sitting at her little desk tippity tapping away at pennings for her own book. on reflecting over the past few years and indeed the fateful path which led her and her clan to live at Mossy Shed, Tif got to pondering. she pondered all the way back to when she was a little girl and then back again to where she was today. how the events which had led to her writing a book, upon reflection all appeared to be connected... even her stumbling across Emily and her wonderful world of 'flea market style'

it was late, Tif was a little punch drunk from writing most of the day on and off, in a moment of madness whilst the clan slept above her head she wrote to Emily Chalmers, introducing herself and her world of dottie angel, telling Emily of her admiration for her lovely books and then she ended her letter with some high hopes.

the next morning at 6:30am Tif's alarm woke her with feelings of the morning after and what had she done... she wrote to her soul sister Debbie and told her of her doings, her soul sister told her she was not nutty. however Tif was not convinced, accompanied Mr Doubter and his little voice of uncertainty. yes indeedy he was in fine mocking form and throughout the day continued to remind her less she forget and may it also be known, there was plenty of pacing and hand wringing as well

(i have put that in because all good stories need a bit of pacing and hand wringing).

the following day, after the morning after, Tif glanced at her emails and then she felt a little giddy, she sat down calling Used Dog and Little Olive to her side, for indeed a moment such as this must be witnessed. there in Tif's little inbox was Emily Chalmers no less and even more incredible were the words Emily had tippity tapped the other side of the pond in her lovely nest.

Tif read the mail several times over, then her and her canine companions hoppity skipped a couple of laps around the shed and then promptly collapsed in a little heap on the floor with tears upon their cheeks

(actually Used Dog and Little Olive did several laps but did not shed a tear. Tif, however only managed one hoppity skip lap due to unfitness levels, but was very good at the tears side of things, i know this to be true as i was there)

after some nattering, Emily and Tif discovered they had quite a bit in common, those bits including a love of second hand goodness, furry friends, sharing the same age, kindred spirits and believing in fate, oh yes and they both liked grannies.

and so it came to pass, Emily and her lovely self, thought Tif's high hopes were perfectly achievable and spent her time wisely with pencil and scrap of paper in pocket waiting for moments of 'brilliant thoughts' to hit. at any given time Emily could be seen scribbling her little 'brilliant thoughts' upon her paper, then safely tucking it away whilst she went about her busy creative days in Caravan and elsewhere.

and as for Tif? well the little piece of paper Emily carried in her pocket served as a reminder to never ever doubt what a little bit of 'high hopes' can lead to...

dottie angel

the peachy crafty life of Tif Fussell

foreword by

Emily Chalmers

the end

she is washing undies and packing twinkies for travels to a small island called old blighty ~ Tif