Tuesday

Walk, write, chase the dog, collect nature, hum




Request for a tactile curiosity, in which a young lady could collect leaves, sticks 'n' stuff; jot down sudden thoughts; and catch the snatch of tiddly-pompompom. Sized to fit into a backpack, soft enough to hug, useful for hurling at the dog. The more tattered and battered, the more beautiful and resonant of experience it will become. Which one would you choose?






Sunday

That old book we found behind the false wall in the library?

 I deny all knowledge of it.


But I notice, if I were to dream I turned the pages, how the words keep appearing. Then disappearing.




Now I'm sure I imagined a wand in there a few minutes ago.



 And that lion? I'm sure it wasn't there before.


But I've never seen nor handled such a book. If I were you, I'd say, it doesn't exist.

(And for that, blame Borges.)

Saturday

Emergency fairy


Is it getting close to Christmas? That would explain the sudden need for fairies. They are always useful in emergency situations. This book (soft, smooth purple; as smooth as a fairy's behind), contains unique fairy catching nets. In my experience, when you've caught them, unless you have a means of holding them securely,* they tend to flap off sharpish.





Or choose the discreet lady's Victorian-style fairy book? Soft suede cover, internal nets, fairy trapping pockets, inner cover made with deep lace, rose petal centre pages, and plenty of pockets to keep the special moments of life for quiet contemplation. A true Knicker Drawer creation. (But shhh... the fairies are at slumber.)




 
*To reassure all concerned fairy collectors! No fairies are harmed in the making of Knicker Drawer fairy books. They are all free to come and go as they please. ...um, I am trying to be kind about this... let's just say, none of the fairies have actually found the way out the books yet. Draw your own conclusions. Maybe Knicker Drawer books are so lovely, the fairies are simply happy to stay.

Wednesday

Wizardly wonderings


Speckled brown/black sueded cover, gently textured... shown with potion bottle and wand. The wand has Real Twisted Unicorn Horn. (Honest.)


Guessed it yet?


Inner pocket.
 

Metallic card inner cover, tied with ribbon.


And if you do not utter the correct password at this point, you're turned into an ironing board.


Say the correct word! It could change, daily!


Pages marked for potion experiments,

 timetables,


memory,


But be aware! The pages actually! dissolve! (Honest.)


And secret bits, where we do not peek.


With a back pocket, protected by spiders, and useful for stowing anything that needs protecting by, um, spiders.

Monday

I wonder who'll open this?


Coming to your post box this week.

Dark blue

Shall we wear circlets of stars?






Or the book that came from the Sea. Organic, moving, textured, shifting, reshaping, reforming, and endlessly intriguing.







Sunday

Make book, eat cake


Make a book for a cupcake maker! Must include sketch paper, notepaper, places to collect bits, bobs, ideas, swatches, and stuff.


Within minutes this has become a wild excuse to cover the entire house with see-through paper and doilies.




and cupcakes! Because when I make a book for someone, I have to walk in their way, if only for a few short steps. But not long enough to actually decorate the little fairy cakes before we scoff them. (Even if Grit's sponge cakes are like rock cakes. I have a non-critical audience here.)


Now wipe away the paper doilies and the face full of crumbs, and think about cake preservation... didn't a slice of Queen Victoria's Wedding Cake go on sale recently? Imagine you have found an heirloom cake book, and here's choice two. Sketchpaper, notepaper, and holdings for treasure, wrapped up with vintage leather, bridal lace, pink edged paper, and pressed rose petals. All layered just like a cake. With icing on top.