Inspired Creativity

HOW TO HAUNT YOUR HOUSE BOOKS 1-3

2012-09-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

HOW TO HAUNT YOUR HOUSE BOOKS 1

Check out my new post on http://salemdarkhallow.blogspot.com

Dark Hallow for Halloween books how to haunt your house and see what wonderful creepy things you can create on a budget. The project in these books will have you feeling like a Hollywood prop expert in no time!

Remember

Have Fun Doing What You Love

and

Love What You Are Doing!!

Free C.U Digital Scrapbook Goodies

2012-08-04T09:53:00.000-07:00

Today I have been working in Photoshop designing.Taking a break letting my other custom order dry ( sorting hat ) .I always have a need for free c.u (commercial use ) digital images. So as I searched I decided to share with others that may be looking to save money in these hard times. There are some sweet people that love sharing their talent free.So lets get started

This site has lots of great things.It's in French but you can translate it to English with Google. Just click the link below and explore their gorgeous freebies.

http://cajoline-scrap.blogspot.fr/2011/07/13-doodles-without-shadows-png-300-dpi.html

these are great free cu brads .The only draw back being 4 share requires you to sign up to download ,but it is free and with so many using it signing up isn't bad .Click link below and check it out
http://starsunflowerstudio.blogspot.com/2010/11/free-cu4cu-brads-for-scrapbook-designs.html

ALLOT and I mean allot of free cu here .
This site requires a cup of coffee and maybe a cookie,Relax and explore.

http://cu-freebies.blogspot.com/search/label/papers

an Easter freebie
http://vivayne.com/2009/04/14/new-cu-and-another-easter-freebie-digital-scrapbooking-qp/

Lots of c.u. freebies of all kinds here just go to site and click freebies.

http://scrapbookingez.blogspot.com/2011/08/free-thank-you-cards.html

this site has free cu to but limits so read the tou carefully so you can be sure of legal use

http://free-digital-scrapbooking-freebies.blogspot.com/2009/11/haunted-halloween-free-digital.htmlu

this site has some cute freebies for c.u as well click on freebies and it will take you to all their free images
http://lowcountryscrapper.com/blog/freebies/holiday-freebies/snow-globe-template-freebie/\

some cute cu freebies here

http://mizzkitten.blogspot.com/search/label/Commercial%20Use

http://sweetlyscrapped.deviantart.com/art/Scrapbook-Paper-Leopard-Rose-284057604

look in her gallery for more freebies
http://starsunflowerstudio.deviantart.com/art/Free-Doodle-Patterns-291931417

well that's it .My eyes are crossing and I need to break from my break!I hope you could find something useful and fun.

REMEMBER
Have fun doing what you love
and
Love what you are doing1

HARRY POTTER AND TWILIGHT INSPIRED

2012-06-28T04:09:00.000-07:00

Been working on some new things this last 2 weeks and 2 of those are apple and the sorting hat .I relay enjoyed making the hat and it was a challenge but I am very pleased with how it came out. Now all I have to do is make more lol.These were turned into ornaments for a Christmas tree and I think they look good with the sparkling lights.Both are made out of clay then I used printed color paper with phrases from the books on them.Ripped the paper then burned the edges.I used Mod Podge to glue paper on let dry completely.To hang then I fixed a wire loop on top of each and voila one of a kind Christmas ornaments!

Remember

Love What You Are Doing

and

Do What You Love

Free Wallet Pattern

2012-06-27T15:36:00.002-07:00

my personal wallet front

flower hand made

back

closure

open view outside

open view inside

Have you ever looked at wallets and just didn't like them? Wanted one that just screamed your name ?Just so you? Well now you can have one that expresses your personality as well as the pride in saying I made that.
They also would make great gifts and the number of styles are only limited by your imagination! I used a tut ,but changed the material combination a little.I bought this fabric before Christmas ,I just loved it.And the pattern didn't call for a lot of material.I used scraps for the pink-orngish and green strips.i also cut my strip material on a slops that gave it a climbing effect leading up to my flower i sewed on the front flap. I just loved the flower and the colors went great with this pattern.I love the finished wallet .

So if you have some Favorite material some scraps and time give this a try and make a wallet that just screams at you .

Below is the links to the wallet and flower tutorial I used to create my wallet and thanks to the ladies that share all these wonderful talents with us everyday

http://www.typepad.com/services/trackback/6a00d8341c72ee53ef00e55219846f8833

http://darnkat.wordpress.com/quilted-fabric-wallet-tutorial/

And as always

Remember

Love What You Are Doing

and

Do What You Love

Repurpose Glass Jars, To Vintage or Not

2012-06-07T10:18:00.000-07:00

I love finding new uses for things that are usually trashed.I have saved jars,plastic containers with lids and boxes.The list goes on and on.i am not a pack rat by any means ,the things I save have a clear purpose in my mind.If they do not get used at some point I do trash them.The net has been a source of great inspiration to me.I use it like a library and feed my mind of new things everyday.

Now that being said lets move on to what I have always wanted to do.... make my own vintage looking jars without paying an arm and leg for them.

I can still see my Grandmother Cason's cook house with it's cement floor and long bench tables that we all sat around on family gatherings.She was a mother of 15 children and I forget how many grand and great grandchildren. When I was growing up there was never a lack of playmates.The cook house was large and hot in summer and cold in winter.I can remember looking inside the shelves and finding coffee cups that had filters right inside the cup to strain the coffee grains(no coffeemaker just steep and strain) .

The depression coffee cups and the colored jars. Depression

glass was given out free at many store even movie theaters.Some was included in food package like toys was in cereal and crackerjack boxes.This was to entice the buyer to purchase the product .After all during the Depression times was hard and the poor people had no money to wast on pretty dinner ware.The pretty colors and etching on the depression ware gave them pretty dinner ware to use. If you would like to know more about the subject I have included some links.You might be surprised at the things you can learn about that time period just by looking at the products that were used .

http://www.ndga.net/articles/whatisdg.php

Copyright© 2006 - 2012 - SuzieMax.com
http://www.suziemax.com/Depression-Glass.html

http://www.mindspring.com/~reyne/dg.html

Now mason jars were colored blue and a few other colors because it was said that the darker the jar’s color is, the longer the food lasts. Today the jars are used not only for food but as a decorated accent for the home.Had we only known that the things from our past would be the treasures of our future we each could have carried a link to our family roots that could be shared with our children.

Now I will share the links I found on how to color your own jars below.Remember you don't have to limit yourself to mason jars.I save pickle ,mayo,fruit,and just about any other jar that catches my eye.

Lets begin exploring the diy art of jar color !

First thing to remember is that these methods are NOT intended for food use.If you want color jars for food use you will need to purchase color jars.

If you know of a way to color jars that are safe for food use ,please share with us .I always love learning something new.

1. HispanicallyEverAfter has a great tut for coloring jars .Nice pictures and clear directions.

http://hispanicallyeverafter.wordpress.com/2011/12/02/diy-color-tint-glass-jar/

2. Chicken in the Road is another tut.In this one she goes in great detail of the failures and successes of dying the jars. I found this tut of great help in information .If you never look at another tut I would recommend this one be on the must read.

She has a very nice imagery of the process and as a visual person this was right up my alley.

Do read the full post and not skip right to the tut.It has very good information .

http://chickensintheroad.com/house/crafts/coloring-mason-jars/

3. DIY: Tinted Mason Jars in Rainbow

Liz Stanley

Another nice image tut

http://www.momtastic.com/diy/168908-diy-tinted-mason-jars-in-rainbow

4 Craftaholice Anonmos

has a tut on creating permanent dyed jars basically the same as the others except she uses Crystal Gloss Enamels to color the jars.

5.Last but not least is creative little daisy blog site.Another great image tut .I love the little jars!So cute

.http://creativelittledaisy.typepad.com/creative_little_daisy/2010/06/have-you-priced-vintage-blue-canning-jars-lately-wanna-make-your-own-really-cheap-.html

there you have it.Several sites to get you started on creating those vintage jars at a fraction of the price.Even if it is not the actual ware from my childhood it still brings back those fond memories of my childhood that are long past.Families grow and move on,mothers ,daughters ,sons and farthers all have families of there own and if we don't hold to our past we lose a little bit of our future.So tell the stories and save that scrap of past to hand down to your children and most importantly make those memories .Sometimes memories are all we are left with,save the good and lose the bad.

Remember

Love What You Are Doing

and

Do What You Love!

Pumpkins,Trees,Apples, Teeth and Dogs ? Oh My

2012-05-30T03:01:00.000-07:00

Poor little Dove b4surgery

Dove AFTER surgery

I haven't posted in several month.Things here kind of got crazy. Not sure what happened first.I think it was my best friend Valery's dog Dove.Now mind you she lives across the road from me and at one time we shared a dog named Froggy (yes I named him that ,it's another story for another day ).Well he ended up living with me and she pays the vet bills .Then we got Ranna (I KNOW ,I KNOW means frog) Now she is my dog and her brother Dove is Valerey's. Dove seems to think he is Superman main dog.Meaning he sails off things with out a care.He is a dachshund and his little back just can't take it.So far he has has 2 surgeries on his back ( her 2 mini car payments she likes to say) and on this last one we came to an agreement that he stay with me while she works out of town on the weekend to better watch the supper dog complex (Dove)

Ranna and her enemy Lucy protesting together
over Dove

Now my other dogs are just getting used to having my oldest daughter 's dog Lucy ( who is leaving with her in 30 years when she moves out)in the house all the time .then Dove started staying and they are still trying to figure out what the heck we were thinking . So basically I have been nursing Dove and now he is better just babysitting him.So far so good except the marking my house war! That is finally under control( can you say doggy diaper? Yes you can)

Froggy taking Dove spot

Erica left Jordan right

Next came the special order I got from a haunted house attraction company for fake teeth .Crunch time they wanted 100 by 2 weeks! But I did it and sent that off ,whew doing all that with jealous dogs was not easy .They spent a lot of time with my daughters and outside lol. next came special orders for clay apples with music, twilight and harry potter quotes, That one took awhile,burning ,pasting drying ....But it all came together very nicely!

Lastly my youngest graduated this past week and all the pick her up go get her and drop her off was hair pulling .Mostly my oldest did that as I do not have a car (laughs evilly) And the where are you at? game we play when trying to find her.Very busy.

Erica right Jordan left

Froggy hunting flies

So now I am sitting back writing a post finally while boling chicken for soup.thinking and taking time to watch Halloween movies ( I am in Halloween mode ALL year .I love it) while sculpting spooky trees that my daughter ,husband,and sometime fly hunting Froggy ( see name fits but there is more to that story ...okok later) break off limbs every chance they get. All in all it has been tiring but satisfying past months.I can't wait to see what happens next hmmm maybe I can.

visit my Etsy shop
http://www.etsy.com/shop/ARaysCreation

Remember
Do What You Love
and
Love What You Are Doing!

Photoshop Free Commercial Brushes, Download and Save

2012-02-20T12:29:00.002-08:00

brush examples

While in the process of making domino and scrabble tile art I ran across some interesting commercial free Photoshop brushes. That's right, I said FREE COMMERCIAL USE. It always excites me to see people sharing their talent for free. While I do understand the effort and time it takes to craft something and the need for money it is always nice to see the willingness to share with those just starting out/limited resources.

That's why I decided to share while it was fresh in my mind.

Today I will show you where I found and how I store my free brushes for easy access.

It's important to make sure that the brushes are free for commercial or personal use and even if the site says they are does not necessary mean that they are. It is a bit tricky. Usually if I find free brushes I will send an email asking for permission before using the brushes. Just explain what you are going to do with them and if you are using them for commercial or personal use. Usually they will say yes, but have some terms of use. Simple and safe. I also save the email they send in 2 file naming them Permission for commercial use and Permission for personal use.

(all images are clickable to enlarge for better view)

Google search

Another way is to search Google (use different search engines for more findings) for free Photoshop commercial brushes. Then chose a site to visit and make sure to read the terms and the post to see if they are just hosting links to these free resources.

Hosting site

hosting site
Hosting free brushes does not give them the right to the brushes. They are just providing you with brush links they found online. Still good resources but no rights for you. Most times clicking the brush link will take you to the owner's site once there you can search the terms or contact them to get permission.Then there are those that have their own site that states free commercial and personal use right on the page for you to easily see.

free commercial; clearly stated
click for larger view

What I like to do is go to the terms of use page and read it. Then I use snagit

(A screen capture program http://www.techsmith.com/snagit-features.html) To capture the terms of use.

snagit program

If you don't have this kind of program you can use your print screen on your computer. After I get the image I crop it and save it with the sites name in a folder I created on my desktop named Permission for commercial use.

Never combine personal and commercial use folder. The reason being I want to know fast if I can freely use commercial brush and don't want to waste time re-finding that information.

That done it is time to now save the actual brush itself. Click on the download link in the site, it may be a zip or a abr. file.

zip or download opt
click to make bigger

If offered these choices choose the one you want to use, I like zips because I can store them to a disk . That way if I crash my computer I have a back up of these brushes in zip format. I will leave that for another day another blog lol.

Now you have chosen what methods to download these brushes you want to save them in the commercial use folder you created on your desk top (or where ever you want the folder to be) changing the name to the brush tittle

saving and changing name of file
Once you have it saved I go one more step . I like to capture an image of the brush then crop and save it with the brush exact title.

saving and renaming image jpeg

I do this because I want to be able to know what the brush looks

like .That way I am not loading every brush until I find the one I wanted. Loading a lot of brushes slow my PS down a lot .So this way saves my space and my mind lol.

That's it. I now have a folder with my free commercial brushes that store the terms of use (covers you for the use of these brushes) as well as easily finding the right brush for the project.

I hope this helped someone and sorry for the large visual but as you know I learn better with visual so I blog visual!

Now go on and find those brushes and organize them! Then create something you love!

Remember

Do what you Love

And

Love what you are Doing!

Pinterest a Curious Cats best Friend

2012-02-06T00:47:00.000-08:00

I found Pinterest a while back,not sure how I found it,weather I was told or just searched and it came up.Either way I soon realized that this was a great resource for my curious mind.Unlike search engine this allows you to see pictures,and as we know I am a visual person.This has been a gold mine for me .

click for larger view

Here you can find things a little easier because other people are pinning things to their board, this allows easy access to things I find interesting.This is not a search engine at all.It does not pull up all the web pages and such .

click for larger view

What this does is allows you to find what interest your by allowing you to see and repin other's finds online.You can start your own board and make pins of your own.To me this allows me to save something I find interesting and allows me to 'save' it without having to bookmark the site.If you are like me I hate bookmarking because I am lazy and do not name the bookmark for what I was interested in .Therefore I can never find the site or image I booked marked it for in the first place.

click for larger view

I also have a problem with saving things to my computer and then forget where I put them. Pinterest has allowed me a fast easy way to save all the sites that I want to re find fast and easy.All I have to do is go to my board look up the interested site and that's it.When I click on the image it takes me to that listing on my board and then I just click once more and it opens the website that image is on.That easy.I love it !

click for larger view

If you want to find something like old looking tables and such ,you can type it in the search box on the top left of the pinterst page and anything anyone has placed under the word old will come up for you to view.From there you have a vast resource of others that have already searched the web for the same things you have.You also get the added benefit of finding things that you might not have thought to look for.
You can add Pinterst to your blog allowing others to see what you find interesting.They have made it easy by allowing you to create your own button to add to your site ,people can follow your boards to keep up with what you find as well as you can follow others so not to miss something someone out there that shares the same interest you have ......Millions of other people finding and sharing things for the love of exploring.

click for larger view

What a great world wide web we have, a library right at your fingertips.Just waiting to bring what you most what right to your screen.Learning and exploring can only get better from here!
Join all of us on (http://pinterest.com/ )Pinterest and start pinning today.You will be happy you did!

click for larger view

Remember
Love What You are Doing
and
Do What You Love!

Homemade Caramel Recipe

2012-01-12T05:39:00.000-08:00

caramel in a can

I have made caramel in the past.Stood over the stove and stirred for what seemed like hours.

It is a long ,hot,sticky mess that taste heavenly. But rarely made because of the expense and long process, right?

Well imagine my excitement when I came upon this simple method on Pinterest.

I thought...no way is it that simple.

Yet it was. As I have been told this is not a new method,but I wanted to share this with you so if you never heard of it(like me") you can make some as well.

First this is a soft dipping caramel not hard.If you want hard there is only one way I know of to make it.....stand over the hot stove.but if you want to dip apples or anything else then this is the recipe for you.

First some things you will need

crock pot

any size can sweet condensed milk

water

Directions

place your sweet condense milk in the crock pot,fill it with water until it covers the can.Turn it on medium and place lid on top.

Now go sit down and relax.

8 hours later take the can out (careful it is very hot) and place it in the refridare

can right from the fridg

Leave it in there until it is completely cold or overnight .

take it out and open it to see all that soft caramel .

Sweet caramel right in the can!

Place it in a container and that's it.

simple,sweet and no mess.

Remember all crock pots cook different so try to

remember the time when you make

it.Record how long it took on what setting so you can

get it just the way you like it.

Also I like to leave mine in the container and place back

in the fridge for about 2

days.To me it seems to taste better and get

smoother.Again this is to your taste.

Who knew a treat like this could be that simple.

Now go and make your family (or yourself) happy and

make some caramel!

Remember

Have fun doing what you love

and

Love what you are doing!

Re-purposing all Kinds of paper

2012-01-05T07:27:00.000-08:00

Brian Dettmer

Doing my usual searching I came across some amazing art work using old books.I would never have thought that you could make something so simple as old books turn into something that was as awesome as this. His name is Brian Dettmer or the book surgeon. I wanted to share his link with you so you can see his work.Just think of all the books that would have rotted ,filled up the land fills or been burnt( I discovered all books do not get recycled due to the large spine!Who knew?!!!) I think he has created true masterpieces here. click the link below to go to his homepage and discover that you can do more with a book than read it

.http://briandettmer.com/

Brian Dettmer

All photo's belong to Brian Dettmer.

Remember
Love what you are doing
and
Do what you love!

Twilight Inspired Apple

2012-01-01T05:41:00.000-08:00

Here is an apple that I have been working on .It was inspired by Twilight but mostly because my youngest loves it. It's made of Sculpty clay and I used printed pages from book,tore them,then burned them to give it the feel I wanted I mod podge the pages to the apple giving it a final coat to fully seal it. If your interested it is for sell in my esty shop at http://www.etsy.com/listing/89521387/clay-apple-with-worm
Remember
have fun doing what you love
and Love what you are doing!

Photo Light box tutorial from Luthien

2011-12-29T19:23:00.000-08:00

image is the property of Luthien

I have often wondered how Luthien took great images of her art.They are very professional looking and inspiring.I love her work very much.So when I saw this tut she had on devantart i was so excited!She shows you how to make a light box like the one she uses. Above is the image of Luthien s finished box and as you can see it looks very simple to make. I am in the process of finishing my box .Mine is different than hers as I used the materials I had on hand.It was modeled after hers and so far it works great here is a image i took with my simple camera.(remember I have not finished mine yet.)

As you can see I still have some things to

solve on mine but they took better pictures than I get with just my camera and house light . If you want to make one head on over to http://luthien27.deviantart.com/#/d4j6hu8

no flash

and follow the tutorial
And if you do make one give her a thanks on her comments .
You can also visit her on her blog at http://www.alteredalchemy.com/ and view the great art she makes ! She sells on esty as well.If you are interested here is that link http://www.etsy.com/shop/alteredalchemy

with flash

Now go build your light box and take some great pictures!!

Remember
Have fun doing what you love
and
Love what you are doing!

Domino Moon Key Chain

2011-12-27T15:04:00.000-08:00

I made this last night for the key my mom keeps losing.I drilled a hole with my Dem. drill with a ceramic drill bit (luv it)
I took a domino applied alcohol ink to the back .Used my homemade mod podge(luv this stuff ,check it out here http://inspiredcreatity.blogspot.com/2011_10_01_archive.html) to apply the digital art to the face . Went through my found things (mostly given to me by my bf Valerey) and used a large metal ring for the key holder. I used my bound moon I made of clay

(homemade CP check out how to make it here http://inspiredcreatity.blogspot.com/2011/04/cold-porcelain-recipe-instructions-with_13.html ) .Added some ribbon with hanging ends and there it is! A lost key found! I love the way t turned out and have decided to name it The Lost Key.

Remember
Have fun doing what you love
and
Love what you are doing!

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!

SANTA CLAUSA & REINDEER FOOD TRUE STORIES

2011-12-20T19:38:00.001-08:00

ORIGINAL PICTURE FROM SANTA
TO MY OLDEST
17 YEARS AGO

AS time goes by I find myself revisiting my
child hood .Remembering all the times we got up on Christmas Eve to open presents. Yes eve due to the fact that my mother's farther was born on the 24^th of December. We celebrated Christmas on that day. We didn't have much and presents were only given by mom and dad to us. We had 2 or 3 presents each but we had a great time. My father's family was large (14 brothers and sisters and mom has 8) I never remember feeling as if we were missing anything. But sitting here today I do. We have become so materialistic that the season has been about what and how much we are going to get so last year I decided to start old fashion Christmas. I have skills that I can apply and the love I instill in each thing I do means more to me than anything I could buy. I feel the same way about receiving gifts (as you can tell from other post) things my family and friends give me that is special to each of their skills means more to me than anything they could buy. Most think that they have no skill or anything to offer. But saying you have a skill never limits itself to a craft or creating a masterpiece. Here is an example, my husband and girls do not hunt. I grew up with my brothers and farther hunting and raising pigs. We even had chickens and grew our own veggies .No we didn't live on a farm. We just had limited resources and as my parents family grew up poor they had the SKILL to do the things that would round out our lives. Point? I would love deer meat for a present as I do not get it often anymore, my mom makes fabulous cakes ,but I cannot for the life of me get one not to fall apart, my farther now works on a farm that his nephews owns, so they grow greens ,lemons broccoli and such, my brothers are good with their hands ,wood work and well as helping with heavy things at home( I have girls ) .Their wives hunt as well and I could go on and on with my nieces. Skills mean so much. Something someone can do that you cannot or something someone has that you need. That is what old fashion Christmas means to me. Beauty and necessity are gifts that can be as priceless as the Mona Lisa.

So maybe next year rethink how you look at Christmas. Yes kids still wan the new itouch and all the things that make them cool to their peers but it will be the memories of their Christmas with their family that will outlast the material things. The new expensive in thing will be old news but carving a walking stick, making a tree house ,making a small village, teaching them to make a cake will live in their hearts and minds forever. When they are retelling the stories from their past Christmas's the cake failure or the tilting tree house will be the story they share with their family forever. Not the IPod. You are what they will share.

So with season greetings and good cheer here are 2 stories from my own daughters past Christmas's that are warm and touching to my heart.

WHEN my oldest was young she was new to everyone and I mean new lol. The first child, first grandchild on both sides of the family .The first great grandchild and great great on my husband side child .She got a lot of attention and soaked it all up. When she was about 3 or almost 4 we had done all the mall Santa and all the who and what he is ( my children can ask my till I am 200 and I will always believe Santa is real ..So there) as most parents know mal Santa sometimes are a little rough and sometime scary to little kids. My daughter was like most but for her age she was a little on the smart side..No way was that Santa. So as the season grew closer and the weather was starting to cool down a little we received the greeted gift as a parent. Santa found my daughter.

We were at a local restaurant with her in a highchair .Waving her fries in one fisted hand and stuffing the other in her mouth with the other hand. Swinging her feet and all giggles and smiles when all of a sudden she stood up in the chair (frightening me to death) pointing her fisted hand of fries and screeched 'SANTA CLAUS!!!!!!!!!!'

After grabbing her and glancing across the room there was a man smiling and waving as he took his ticket to the cashier. My husband was laughing and talking to my daughter trying to get her to calm down as all the other customers smiled and enjoyed her happiness! She would have none of it .Santa was here and she was so happy to finally see the real one. He came to our table and said hi to her and she just has to hug him around the waist as he stood by her chair. I could tell he enjoyed the love he felt from her, his eyes had those smile crinkles as he laughed. My husband told him that he must get that everywhere he goes and Santa said yes he did, then reached for his wallet and pulled out a picture of himself and gave it to my daughter and told her it was hers to keep. She then (warming my heart) asked him why he was there and not at home making things with the elves .He just laughed and my husband said "Santa has to take a break too and eat". Santa told her he was heading home right then and after a little bit of chit chat he told her bye and she watched him as he went out to his car ( I think she was hoping to see his deer).She was so excited and could not wait to tell her grandparents about meeting the real Santa. She never asked him for anything and he never asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Material things didn't ruin the meeting between this magical moment between child and saint. It was a pure memory that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

REINDEER FOOD I SAVED FROM
THE NIGHT MY YOUNGEST TOLD ME THE
DEER WERE HUNGRY.
SAVED IN CLOSE FOR13 YRS

Now my youngest child was a leave me alone baby, preferring not to be held and cuddled (hard for me because she was the last child I would have) She had lots of needs (not actual, but she had some she made up) but when she felt something for someone else that had needs she was very focused on getting what they need. It didn't matter if they were magical or not. If they needed it she felt compelled to give it.

She was in pre k at our local school .And everything was hectic due to parties, shopping and cooking (I like to include all the people that had a hand in my girls education by making them divinity and she found "new "people she felt helped so my cooking list was long) sewing felt stocking for her older sister class and getting everything ready for their school parties and crafts was a all consuming mom job. On Christmas Eve we made cookies popped popcorn giggles and sewed some popcorn garland. Christmas music filling the house and her ever asking is it time for Santa Claus. We crafted gifts for the grandparents and she really gets into that .She loves giving presents almost as much as she loves getting them.

Late that night she got her bath .Put on her pj's and came with me and her older sister and a blanket to ride our area looking at the lights. The whole time worrying about when Santa would come and all the things most children worried about like how he will find her. But my daughter is a Q&A kind of girl. She wanted to know all there was about Santa, now that she was all grown up and had factual information from all the kids in school. So as we came home I answered all the questions and tried to answer the technical stuff as well. We got home and started laying out the cookies and milk .As we were placing the plate and glass down on the fireplace she looked up at me and said" what about the reindeer?"

I said "what do you mean?" She looked so cute worrying out the problem in her mind. "They pull Santa all night and never get anything to eat .They get hungry to. What are we going to give them?" I was at a loss and scrambled for something to give them. I told her that they could have cookies and she said 'mommy deer don't eat cookies they eat reindeer food.' I had never heard of that before and told her I didn't have any to give them not even a carrot. That's when she flipped her hand at me and said." That's ok I know how to make it. That's what they teach us at school.' Then pranced off to the kitchen where she taught me to make the deer food for them. She explained why glitter was in there, because everyone knows that they need that to see it on the ground .She explained all this with a roll of the eye and the entire patient I had just showed her in the car. We all took the bowl and walked out into the cold night and spread the food out for the poor hungry deer to eat while Santa snacked on his cookies. The next day she went out to look for the food and was happy to see that it was gone and to her the deer had at least one good meal that night before heading home. For her worrying about the lesser creature never meant what it means to us. She never thought about the deer as being beneath Santa but as an equal and deserving of being treated special just like everyone else. Knowing that she extended her heart to include others makes me treasure this memory. As they grow these are the things that will be treasured forever with love and pride. Giving me new hope as they grow into young woman that not only will they see to their own needs but will be aware of the needs of those around then. I remember telling her at that age that I never wanted her to grow up and to stay little forever .She told me she would stop growing right then and there. I asked her how she was going to do that.

"I will stop eating "was her answer. I will say she tried but food was too much to resist for her. She still tells me the same thing she always did .I would say,' I thought you were going to stop eating and never grow up" her reply "I tried but I get hungry and can't help it"

Those memories and little faces are all grown now into 2 beautiful 20 and 17 years old women waiting for their life to take them to another home and another person .But the stories are mine to retell and treasure always and forever.

This holiday season as you are with your family shares the stories young and old. Create those new memories and rejoice in the season.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

AND
MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM MY FAMILY TO YOURS.

Cotton plant Christmas ornament tutorial .

2011-12-09T11:18:00.000-08:00

SNOW BURST

As promised here is the tut on making a Christmas ornament out of a cotton plant.This is a easy craft to do but it is very pretty when the lights from the tree hit the glitter.Oh how they sparkle! I live in the south and cotton plants are not hard to find here,but I do not know if you can purchase cotton online .

cotton in the field

Materials
cotton plant ( I got mine from local farmer)

hot glue gun and glue sticks

glitter ( your choice but I like the fine iridescent glitter)
white craft paint (again your choice)
paintbrushes (not big ones ,use what you need to paint the snow burst)
ribbon(I like all kind but like anything else its what you like)
bowl (to catch the glitter for reuse.just pour back in glitter battle )

image 1

First you need to cut the cotton bulb off the stem. What you want is the husk or open bulb see image 1 . Then you need to remove the cotton from the bulb.This is easy to do just gently pull cotton out. See image 2 and 3.

image 2

image 3

Now take the husk apart by gently moving them back and forth while holding one side

hull broken apart

drop of glue on torn end

Now using your glue gun place a drop of glue on the end of the hull.This is the end your broke from the other hulls not the pointy tip.Now add another hull to the one with glue on it. Hold a few seconds so it will cool and stay on. You want to alternation the hull position meaning the wider side and the sides with the indention should not always face each other.Neither should they always be facing away from each other.see the image 4.

put another hull on the tip of the glued one

hull position image 4

Now take another hull and place it at the top and one at the bottom,. Making a star figure.see image 5

image 5

this is the shape you want for the bass

Now place a hull in center of star ( image 6) and another hull on the other side in the middle of the star

image 6

Now keep adding hulls in between to form a star burst like shape
See the images below .There is no wrong way to add the hulls .Keep adding
till you get the look that you want.

keep adding hulls

add hulls till you get the shape you want

finishes snow burst

These are my finished snow burst.Remember each will be different.

Add caption

Now take your white pant and cover the snow burst completely.This will need to be painted 2 times because the cotton hull soaks up the paint.Make sure to get in all the corners and hiding places .

paint snow burst

While the paint is still wet take your glitter and hold your snow burst over a bowl(to catch the excess glitter.you can reuse this ) Sprinkle glitter all over the snow burst making sure to get all sides and the insides.

Now after it has completely dried take your ribbon and glue it in one of the hulls in the center of the burst. You can take a small bristle paint brush and paint the glue white if you wish ,being careful not to paint the ribbon where it shows

Ribbon added to dry snow burst

That's it! Now you can create an heirloom that you can hand down to your children and so forth.It's using nature to create and repurposed at its best. i enjoyed making these and my best friend already wants to make some for next year christmas gift! Below are some images of them on my tree.See how they sparkle? my camera could not do them justice.I hope you enjoyed this tut and if you have any questions please ask away!

Remember
Have fun doing what you love
and
Love what you are doing!

Cotton plant Christmas ornament tutorial coming soon!

2011-12-06T13:07:00.000-08:00

Next post I will show you how to make this sparkling ornament from a cotton plant! check back soon!

cotton plant

Christmas ornament

Remember
Have fun doing what you love
and Love what you are doing!

CHRISTMAS DECORATING TUTIORALS

2011-12-06T12:54:00.000-08:00

Christmas is a special time of the year and I like to decorate the house in the spirit of the year. Here I will share some simple and cheap things you can do to add some cheer to your home without breaking the bank. And in most cases not cost you a penny (even better!)

By simply taking paper in bright Christmassy color and wrapping it around a pencil or crochet needle you can add a great looking garnish to a simple bowl or figure.

Curlies (as I call them)

materials

scrapbook paper (or any paper that will not tear easy in any color you want)

pencil or chrochet needle (i used different size knitting needles)

scissors

optional

Christmas movie ( to keep me in the mood)

a basket or bowl( to hold all those curlies you will make )

WARNING!!!

This is a very addictive habit!I am not responsible for any lost persons or pets.Please do this craft responsibly.

Froggy one of my babies

Cut your paper in different sizes (length wise for good curls)

The smaller the width the curlier the curl .

Curl one end on to the knitting needle (or whatever you are using) Wrap the strip all the way around then slide it off the needle (figure 1and 2)

Take the beginning center and the end and gently pull to get this curl.

Don't pull to hard or you will pull the curl out.

the more you pull the less curl you have.
Now for something extra get a snowflake punch and punch you some snowflakes to add to the curls .see how nice it looks below?

Here I put the curls in my Halloween glass jars and created a center piece for the table by my front door.i placed some old glass balls in the center and put more curls and flakes around.

some tips for keeping those glass balls from rolling .Take one of the Curlies and pull it .Making it less curly.See image here (3)

Place the curly on table and set glass ball on top of them and no more rolling ! Something so simple it's scary!!

Another thing you can do with the glass jars is add balls inside them as you see in this image(5)And the smaller jar has fake sugar fruit that has fallen off of the ornaments my mother in law made for me years ago. I wanted to keep them so I just repurposed them .

This is an image of the glass balls and the Curlies with a bowl full of mini clay stockings stuffed with gifts. This is the actual centerpiece I have set up this year.

The stockings and gifts are made from my homemade cp clay (You can find it here in pdf format http://www.scribd.com/doc/52976927/Cold-Porcelain-Recipe-Instructions-With-Pictures)

I placed them in a bowl arranged them till I was happy and sat them on the table.Added Curlies and there was my finished center display.Am lovin it!

This is a box wrapped with curling ribbon on top.I made this when my first daughter was only 3 (she is 20 now) inside the box is an old music box that the figure it was in had broke I taped (grey tape) the music box inside and slipped the twist knob through a hole in the side of the box.then taped it closed ,wrapped it .Put a bow on top and there I had a Christmas presant music box.I don;t remember where I got the idea for this but I am sure if you surf you can find more in detail on how to create this box.

next thing I have is a old bell door wreath that has seen better days.as you can see in the images below ,the paint is worn off of some of them.I actually love the look so I unstrung them from the wires and placed them in a bowl the holly shaped tin I hung in between my stockings on the fire place .simple and I loved it!

Remember
Have fun doing what you love
and Love what you are doing!

DIY Christmas Decorating

2011-11-29T07:10:00.000-08:00

Christmas is almost here and I am still wondering where the time went. The older I get the faster the years go by. That old feeling of holidays past haunt my mind as I remember the times with my girls and how I wish I could go back and enjoy that time again. But as we all know there is no going back so why not make this year more special and create a treasured memory that you always wanted to have?

Now I am remembering the movie ‘A Christmas vacation’ and laugh because there are no perfect holidays.

Just like Clark Griswold no matter how hard you try something will go wrong. Just get up and dust yourself off and remember that your kids will talk about you to their kids .All the crazy things you did and the things that wentwrong.no matter what you think, you did create a treasured memory. Your children will always remember and be filled with the warm spirit of Christmas love that you helped create with them.

Now on to the Diy projects I have come across in my search for all things Christmas

How to Make Sheet Music Christmas Trees

Create a Lighted Holiday Gift Box

Eco-Friendly Christmas Gift-Wrap Ideas

Hgtv has lots of diy ideas that are easy on the purse and simple but elegant to add a cheerful image to your home .http://www.hgtv.com/search/results.do?hgSearchString=christmas&hgSearchType=HGTV.com

Here are 2 simple things that look clean and stylish but are easy to do click link to see more http://vi.sualize.us/delusive/christmas/

Rug stockings

Here is a sweet idea Rug Stockings! How neat is that ?

http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/boston/search?q=christmas

http://decoratingforevents.com/blog/topiary-christmas-balls-tree/

http://www.lovemaegan.com/2010/12/filling-clear-
glass-christmas-tree.html

Here are some elegant decorating images .I love all of these !It's just to bad I don'thave more homes to decorate!

http://finishingtouchinteriors.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html

This site has tons of tuts for you to chose from .

http://www.tipjunkie.com/home-made-christmas/

Those are just a few of the things I found that inspired me today.I hope you enjoy these sites and get those creative juices going and bring in the holiday with a cheerful heart!

Remember

Have fun doing what you love

and

Love what you are doing!

Paper Flower Wreath.. Re purposing at its Best!

2011-11-22T14:51:00.000-08:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!

Today I wanted to share with you the great wreath my best friend Val made! As you can see from the picture she loves scrapbooking .That is only one small section of her craft/computer room.(her computer still screaming and kicking in there)
She used old books to make the petals then added some pearls for the center. Attached them to a wreath form and there it is ! A real re purpose project that adds some class to any home!
What a great gift that would be during this holiday season.And how great to be able to get back to what this season relay is. Something created from the heart and a way to use items that would just clutter the land fills! Speaking from me , I enjoy re purposed gifts and I do not think they are tacky or cheap! Anything that someone takes the time to create with their own hands or even hand down to you is truly a gift from the heart!
Sad items from the past get a new life in re
purposing.Think what you can do with things you have in boxes and bags .create a treasure for someone this holiday season!

Remember

Love What You Are Doing

and Do What You Love!!

Homemade Decoupage (Mod Podge)

2011-10-31T08:18:00.000-07:00

Home made Mod Podge! Loving it!! Click the link and find out how you can make this at home!! My kind of craft supply.saving money in this day and time is important and any where I can save I can spend on something else !!

Photo belongs
to someday crafts

http://somedaycrafts.blogspot.com/2011/10/homemade-decoupage-mod-podge.html

Happy Halloween! The Legend of Sleepy Hallow Story

2011-10-30T01:13:00.000-07:00

Original

the Sketch Book

The Legend of Sleepy Hallow

graphic from

wallcoo.net

http://www.wallcoo.net/holiday/halloween_06/html/wallpaper1.html

The legend of sleepy Hallow Is one of my all time favorite Halloween Stories and as usual it was a short story Before it was a Disney Film.It was Published in The Sketch Book along with Rip Van Winkle.In only watching films I feel we are losing the written word and the treasure that it really is.Movies will always 'rewrite' to suit their needs and not be loyal to the authors true imagination. So in celebrating the Spirit of Halloween I have decided to share this wonderful story with you .Sit back with a cup of coffee and snuggle up with someone (or a blanket) and enjoy one of our true classic's with me .

IN the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at

that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee,

and where they always prudently shortened sail, and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but

which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market-days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever

breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.

J recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noon-time, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around, and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by

Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given

to all kinds of marvellous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions; and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight

superstitions: stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be

the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war; and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in the gloom

of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most

authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting andcollating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body ofthe trooper having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed

with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has

furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and

the spectre is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the

Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously imbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awake

they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little while, to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow imaginative—to dream dreams, and see apparitions.

I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such littleretired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the great State of New York, that population, manners, and customs, remain fixed; while

the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is making such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by them unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still water which border a

rapid stream; where we may see the straw and bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current. Though many years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same families vegetating in its sheltered bosom.

In this by-place of nature, there abode, in a remote period of American history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of the name of Ichabod Crane; who sojourned, or, as he expressed it, “tarried,” in

Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the children of the vicinity. He was a native of Connecticut; a State which supplies the Union with pioneers for the mind as well as for the forest, and sends forth yearly its

legions of frontier woodsmen and country schoolmasters. The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a corn-field.

His school-house was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed of logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of old copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours,

by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the window-shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably

borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery of an eelpot. The school-house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and a formidable birch-tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his pupils’ voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a drowsy summer’s day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Truth to say, he was a conscientious man, and ever bore in mind the golden maxim, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”—Ichabod Crane’s scholars certainly were not spoiled.

I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel potentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than severity;

taking the burden off the backs of the weak, and laying it on those of the strong. Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the claims of justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some little, tough, wrong-headed, broadskirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and swelled, and grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch. All this he called “doing his duty by their parents;” and he never inflicted a chastisement without following it by the assurance, so consolatory to the smarting urchin, that “he would remember it, and thank him for it the longest day he had to live.”

When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate of the larger boys; and on holiday afternoons would convoy some of the smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or

good housewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils. The revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely

sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help out his maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those parts, boarded

and lodged at the houses of the farmers, whose children he instructed. With these he lived successively a week at a time; thus going the rounds of the neighborhood, with all his worldly effects tied up in a cotton

handkerchief.

That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic patrons, who are apt to consider the cost of schooling a grievous burden, and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of rendering

himself both useful and agreeable. He assisted the farmers occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay; mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from pasture; and cut wood for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all the dominant dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his little empire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and ingratiating. He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with his foot for whole hours together.

Jn addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the young folks in psalmody. It was a matter of no little vanity to him, on

Sundays, to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band of chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away the palm from the parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded far above all the

rest of the congregation; and there are peculiar quavers still to be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday morning, which are said to

be legitimately descended from the nose of Ichabod Crane. Thus, by divers little make-shifts in that ingenious way which is commonly denominated “by hook and by crook,” the worthy pedagogue got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing of the labor of headwork, to have a wonderfully easy life of it.

The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments to

the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to the parson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little stir at the tea-table of a farm-house, and the addition of a supernumerary dish of

cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silver teapot. Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all the country damsels. How he would figure among them in the churchyard,

between services on Sundays! gathering grapes for them from the wildvines that overrun the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superior elegance and address.

From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover,

esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather’s history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly

and potently believed.

He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence

in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con over old Mather’s direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farm-house where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will* from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against

him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch’s token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm

tunes;—and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, “in linked sweetness long drawn out,” floating from the distant hill, or along

the dusky road.

Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their

marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would frighten them wofully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!

But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no spectre dared to show his

face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk homewards. What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path amidst the dim and ghastly glare of a snowy night!—With what wistful look did he

eye every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from some distant window!—How often was he appalled by some shrub covered with snow, which, like a sheeted spectre, beset his very path!—

How often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on the frosty crust beneath his feet; and dread to look over his shoulder, lest he should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind him!—

and how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howling among the trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian on one of his nightly scourings!

All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mind that walk in darkness; and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his

lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more

perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was—a woman.

Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father’s peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her great-greatgrandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.

Jchabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart towards the sex; and it is not to be wondered at, that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his eyes; more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented, liberal hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within those every thing was snug, happy and well-conditioned. He was satisfied with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty abundance, rather than the style in which he lived. His stronghold was situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks, in which the Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. A great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it; at the foot of which bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a little well, formed of a barrel; and then stole sparkling away

through the grass, to a neighboring brook, that bubbled along among alders and dwarf willows. Hard by the farm-house was a vast barn, that might have served for a church; every window and crevice of which seemed

bursting forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail was busily resounding within it from morning to night; swallows and martins skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one

eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their heads under their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others swelling, and cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the roof.

Sleek unwieldy porkers were grunting in the repose and abundance of their pens; whence sallied forth, now and then, troops of sucking pigs, as if tosnuff the air. A stately squadron of snowy geese were riding in an

adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of ducks; regiments of turkeyswere gobbling through the farmyard, and guinea fowls fretting about it, like ill-tempered housewives, with their peevish, discontented cry. Before

the barn door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior, and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished wings, and crowing in the pride and gladness of his heart—sometimes tearing up the earth with his

feet, and then generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered.

The pedagogue’s mouth watered, as he looked upon this sumptuous promise of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind’s eye, he pictured to himself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly,

and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a comfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were swimming in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes, like

snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. In the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicy relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with its

gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back, in a sidedish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his chivalrous

spirit disdained to ask while living.

Asthe enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great green eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burthened with ruddy fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his imagination expanded with the idea, how they might be readily turned into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, and shingle palaces inthe wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realized his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole family of children,

mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee,or the

Lord knows where.

When he entered the house the conquest of his heart was complete. It was one of those spacious farm-houses, with high-ridged, but lowlysloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutch settlers;

the low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the front, capable of being closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring river.

Benches were built along the sides for summer use; and a great spinningwheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showed the various uses to which this important porch might be devoted. From this piazza the

wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and the place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood a

huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another a quantity of linseywoolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled with the gaud

of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying shovel and tongs, glistened

from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges and conch-shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of various colored birds’ eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was hung from the centre of the

room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended china.

From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight, the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain the affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had any thing but giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such like easily-conquered adversaries, to contend with; and had to make his way merely through gates of iron and brass, and walls of adamant, to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart was confined; all which he achieved as easily as a man would carve his way to the centre of a Christmas pie; and then the lady gave him her hand as a matter of course.

Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims and caprices, which were forever presenting new difficulties and impediments; and he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every portal to her heart, keeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause

against any new competitor.

Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge andskill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar.

He was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancy which bodily strength always acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted with aflaunting fox’s tail; and when the folks at a country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a squad of hard

riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farm-houses at midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old dames, startled out of

their sleep, would listen for a moment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, “Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!” The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, admiration, and goodwill;

and when any madcap prank, or rustic brawl, occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.

This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina for the object of his uncouth gallantries; and though his amorous toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes. Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel’s paling, on a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed, “sparking,” within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried the war into other quarters.

Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend; and, considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He

had, however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature; he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack—yielding, but tough; though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest

pressure, yet, the moment it was away—jerk! he was as erect, and carried his head as high as ever.

To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more than that stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in

a quiet and gently-insinuating manner. Under cover of his character of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farm-house; not that he had any thing to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents,

which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers. Balt Van Tassel was an easy, indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even than his pipe, and, like a reasonable man and an excellent father, let her have her way in every thing. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be looked after, but girls can take care of themselves. Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn. In the mean time, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the twilight, that hour so favorable to the lover’s eloquence.

I profess not to know how women’s hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a

thousand avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for the man must battle for

his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand common hearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidently declined: his horse was no longer seen tied to the palings on Sunday

nights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.

Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have carried matters to open warfare, and have settled their pretensions to the lady according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners, the knights-errant of yore—by single combat; but Ichabod was too conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists against him: he had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would “double the

schoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own school-house;” and he was too wary to give him an opportunity. There was something extremelyprovoking in this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play off boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the object of whimsical persecution to Bones, and his gang of rough riders. They harriedhis hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing-school, by stopping

up the chimney; broke into the school-house at night, in spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window-stakes, and turned every thing topsy-turvy: so that the poor schoolmaster began to think all the witches in the country held their meetings there. But what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as a rival of Ichabod’s to instruct her in psalmody.

In this way matters went on for some time, without producing any material effect on the relative situation of the contending powers. On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned on the lofty

stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of his little literary realm. In his hand he swayed a ferule, that sceptre of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails behind the throne, a constant terror to evil-doers; while on the desk before him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins; such as half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions of rampant little paper game-cocks. Apparently there had been some appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for his scholars were all busily intent upon their books, or slyly whispering behind them with one eye kept upon the master; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the school-room. It was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a negro, in tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round-crowned fragment of ahat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way of halter. He came clattering up to the school door, with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-making or “quilting frolic,” to be held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel’s; and having delivered his message with that air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the brook, and was seen scampering away up

the hollow, full of the importance and hurry of his mission.

All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet school-room. The scholars were hurried through their lessons, without stopping at trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who

were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken their speed, or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside without being put away on the shelves, inkstands were overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was turned loose an hour before the usual time, bursting forth like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their early emancipation.

The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half hour at his toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of rusty black, and arranging his locks by a bit of broken looking-glass, that hung up in

the school-house. That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth, like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse, that had outlived almost every thing but his viciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral; but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master’s, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than

in any young filly in the country.

Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers’; he carried his whip

perpendicularly in his hand, like a sceptre, and, as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of forehead might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse’s tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed, as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad daylight. It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming

files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring

stubble-field.

The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fulness of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to bush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety around

them. There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of stripling sportsmen, with its loud, querulous note; and the twittering blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker, with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage; and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipt wings and yellow-tipt tail, and its little montero cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that noisy coxcomb, in his gay light-blue

coat and white underclothes—screaming and chattering, nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with every songster of the grove.

As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly autumn. On all sides he beheld vast store of apples; some hanging in oppressive opulence on the trees; some gathered into baskets and barrels for the market; others heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press. Farther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes and hastypudding;

and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat fields,

breathing the odor of the bee-hive, and as he beheld them soft anticipations stole over his mind of dainty slapjacks, well buttered, and garnished with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of Katrina Van Tassel.

Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and “sugared suppositions,” he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sun

gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west. The wide bosom of the Tappan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant

mountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the dark-gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky gleamed along the still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended in the air.

It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the adjacent country;—old farmers, a spare, leathern-faced race, in homespun

coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter buckles; their brisk withered little dames, in close crimped caps, longwaisted shortgowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pincushions,

and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside; buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock, gave symptoms of city innovation; the sons, in short square-skirted coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an eel-skin for the purpose, it being esteemed, throughout the country, as a potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair. Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the gathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself, full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage. He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all kinds of tricks, which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for he held a tractable,

well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.

Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van Tassel’s mansion;—not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their

luxurious display of red and white; but the ample charms of a genuine Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped-up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known only to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty dough-nut, the

tenderer oly koek, and the crisp and crumbling kruller; sweet-cakes and short-cakes, ginger-cakes and honey-cakes, and the whole family of cakes. And then there were apple-pies, and peach-pies, and pumpkin-pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover delectable dishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces; not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have enumerated them,with the motherly tea-pot sending up its clouds of vapor from the midst— Heaven bless the mark! I want breath and time to discuss this banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story. Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty.

He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion as his skin was filled with good cheer; and whose spirits rose with eating, as some men’s do with drink. He could not help, too, rolling his large eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility that he might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxury and splendor. Then, he thought, how soon he’d turn his back upon the old school-house; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van Ripper, and every other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant pedagogue out of doors that should dare to call him comrade!

Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated with content and good-humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon. His hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a

shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing invitation to “fall to and help themselves.”

And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall,summoned to the dance. The musician was an old grayheaded negro, who had been the itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a

century. His instrument was as old and battered as himself. The greater part of the time he scraped on two or three strings, accompanying every movement of the bow with a motion of the head; bowing almost to the

ground, and stamping with his foot whenever a fresh couple were to start. Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal powers. Not a limb, not a fibre about him was idle; and to have seen his

loosely hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room, you would have thought Saint Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was figuring before you in person. He was the admiration of all the

negroes; who having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm and the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at every door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their white eyeballs, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear. How could the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and joyous? the lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner.

When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, who, with old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories about the war.

This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those highly-favored places which abound with chronicle and great men. The British and American line had run near it during the war; it had,

therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees, cowboys, and all kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient time had elapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little becoming fiction,

and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to make himself the hero of every exploit.

There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman, who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron ninepounder from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth

discharge. And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of whiteplains, being an excellent master of defence, parried a musket-ball wita small sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade, and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which, he was ready at any time to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent. There were several more

that had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but was persuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a happy termination.

But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that succeeded. The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the kind. Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered long-settled

retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shifting throng that forms the population of most of our country places. Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages, for they have scarcely

had time to finish their first nap, and turn themselves in their graves, before their surviving friends have travelled away from the neighborhood; so that when they turn out at night to walk their rounds, they have no

acquaintance left to call upon. This is perhaps the reason why we so seldom hear of ghosts except in our long-established Dutch communities. The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural

stories in these parts, was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow. There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all

the land. Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van Tassel’s, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful legends. Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourning cries and

wailings heard and seen about the great tree where the unfortunate Major André was taken, and which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow. The chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard.

The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed

walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman; and the place where he was most frequently encountered. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged to get up behind him; how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill and

swamp, until they reached the bridge; when the horseman suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang away over the tree-tops with a clap of thunder.

This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvellous adventure of Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey. He affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring

village of Sing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that he had offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won it too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but, just as they came to the church-bridge, the Hessian bolted, and vanished in a flash of fire. All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in the dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sank deep in the mind of Ichabod. He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his invaluable author, Cotton Mather, and added many marvellous events that had taken place in his native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights which he had seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.

The revel now gradually broke up. The old farmers gathered together their families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling along the hollow roads, and over the distant hills. Some of the damsels mounted on pillions behind their favorite swains, and their light-hearted laughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed along the silent woodlands, sounding fainter and fainter until they gradually died away—and the late scene of noise and frolic was all silent and deserted. Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the custom of country lovers, to have a tête-à-tête with the heiress, fully convinced that he was now on the high road to success. What passed at this interview I will not pretend to say, for in fact I do not know. Something, however, I fear me, must have gone wrong, for he certainly sallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolate and chop-fallen.—Oh, these women! these women! Could that girl have been playing off any of her coquettish tricks?—Was her encouragement of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her

conquest of his rival?—Heaven only knows, not I!—Let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost, rather than a fair lady’s heart. Without looking to the right or left to notice the scene of rural wealth, on which he had so often gloated, he went straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks, roused his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole valleys of timothy and clover.

It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crest-fallen, pursued his travels homewards, along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off, from some farm-house away among the hills—but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably and turning suddenly in his bed.

All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon, now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds

occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the centre of the road stood an

enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting downalmost to the earth, and rising again into the air. It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the name of Major André’s tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it.

As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle; he thought his whistle was answered—it was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he

saw something white, hanging in the midst of the tree—he paused and ceased whistling; but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood

laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan—his teeth chattered and his knees smote against the saddle; it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in

safety, but new perils lay before him.

About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly-wooded glen, known by the name of Wiley’s swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grape-vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.

As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead of startingforward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and ran

broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the contrary foot:

it was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but it was only to plunge tothe opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, butcame to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveller.

The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents—“Who are you?” He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm-tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a

horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and waywardness.

Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The

stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind—the other did the same. His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalmtune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It wassoon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!—but his horror was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle: his terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip—but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod’s flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lank body away over his horse’s head, in the eagerness of his flight.

They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it, made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong down hill to the left. This road leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story, and just beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church. As yet, the panic of the steed had given his unskilful rider an apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got half way through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping from under him. He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to hold it firm, but in vain;and had just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowder round the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it trampled under foot by his pursuer. For a moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper’s wrath

passed across his mind—for it was his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for petty fears; the goblin was hard on his haunches; and (unskilful rider that he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slipping on one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted on the high ridge of his horse’s backbone, with a violence that he verily feared would cleave him asunder.

An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken. He saw the walls of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond. He recollected the place where Brom Bones’s ghostly competitor had disappeared. “If I can but

reach that bridge,” thought Ichabod, “I am safe.” Just then he heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied that he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind, to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash—he was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind.

The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master’s gate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast—dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the school-house, and strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster. Hans Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses’ hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin.

The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be discovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the bundle which contained all his worldly effects. They consisted of two

shirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted stockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book of psalm-tunes, full of dogs’ ears; and a broken pitchpipe. As to the books

and furniture of the school-house, they belonged to the community, excepting Cotton Mather’s History of Witchcraft, a New England Almanac, and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a

sheet of foolscap much scribbled and blotted, in several fruitless attempts to make a copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van Tassel. These magic books and the poetic scrawl were forthwith consigned to the flames

by Hans Van Ripper; who from that time forward determined to send his children no more to school; observing, that he never knew any good come of this same reading and writing. Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he had received his quarter’s pay but a day or two before, he must have had about his person at the time of his disappearance. The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the following Sunday. Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin had been found. The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget of others, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered them all, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they shook their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been carried offby the Galloping Hessian. As he was a bachelor, and in nobody’s debt, nobody troubled his head any more about him. The school was removed toa different quarter of the hollow, and another pedagogue reigned in his stead.

It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visit several years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly adventure was received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod Crane was still

alive; that he had left the neighborhood, partly through fear of the goblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at having been suddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his quarters to a distant part of the country; had kept school and studied law at the same time, had been admitted to the bar, turned politician, electioneered, written for the newspapers, and finally had been made a justice of the Ten Pound Court. Brom Bones, too, who shortly after his rival’s disappearance conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter than he chose to tell.

The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often told about the

neighborhood round the winter evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of superstitious awe, and that may be the reason why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the mill-pond. The school-house, being deserted, soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue; and the ploughboy, loitering homeward of a still summer

evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm-tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.

Washington Irving (1783–1859)

I hope you enjoyed this story .Any mistakes are mine and not the author.I hold no rights to this story,nor do I own any of the written word.
Pass on a book to a young one and let their imagination fuel their fantasy and not always the TV or games.Reading helps children learn better and grows their creativity in leaps and bounds!

Remember

Have fun doing what you Love

and
Love what you are doing!

Sculpting a clay Pumpkin with Witches Hat Tutorial

2011-10-27T20:49:00.000-07:00

In this post I will be showing you how I make my pumpkins with witches hat.I seem to make allot of pumpkins,there is just something about that round cuteness that I can't resist! I think it's a disorder ,yea that's it ! It is SCPHD "Sculpting Clay Pumpkin with Hat Disorder .OK so now that I have cleared that up .
Lets get started
Supplies
Clay (can be any type you want ,I used original Sculpty ,not because I like it better .But that it was a good price and soft enough for my hands to knead)
Sculpting pick /dentist tool-(anything that can make a impression like a tooth pick would work to)

Oven/toaster oven is what
I use .Cooked clay gives off fumes so be careful with pets if baking in a small none ventilated place .Open a window or turn on a fan.
A ink pin(I used the cap because it had a hole in it ,but you can just use the pin to .)

Now the fun part.
I have no set amount of clay that I use.You can use as much
or as little to make these .The size is up to you ,but I make medium to small ones.

Hat ball

roll on one side
so looks like this

Take a ball of clay and knead it until it is soft and workable. Pinch off some clay about the size of a marble,then another piece a little bigger.This will be the pumpkin and the hat .The larger ball is for the pumpkin because I like the hat to fit at an angle. set the larger piece aside.take the smaller ball and roll it between your thumb and forefinger.You want to have it in a cone shape so the most pressure should be focused on one side of the ball.

push down to form hat brim

Next set it on a clean surface with the bigger end down .Now you want to smooth down to

hat brim

form the brim of the hat .Once you have the basic brim pick the clay up and put on thumb .Using forefinger to make the brim thinner and bigger by smoothing down .Turn your clay and repeat until you have the brim the size you want.

hat brim

using your thumb and smoothing out for hat prim

hat brim made

1st indent then fold on itself

Next use a toothpick or a tool small enough to make an indention on one side ,top part of the hat see picture A(image is of the second in dent ,But you see what I am talking about) After yo make the dent you will gently fold it in on itself .Now make another indent on the other side and fold .

Picture A

the hat with its 2 folds

pinch of clay for the hat band

Set the hat to the side .Now take a pinch of clay and roll it out into a thin roll .Using your finger flatten it making it as even as you can.This will be the band on the hat .

roll it out

flatten it for the band

wrap around the hat above the hat brim

Now wrap the flat piece around the hat brim .pressing slightly so that it will stick.Using your tool cut it off where it joined the beginning band.

cut off excess

smaller pinch for hat band
buckle

Take a small piece of clay and roll it into a ball and slightly flatten it.Then place it on the band where it joined .(see images)

attach to band where it join

using a toothpick or tool to make it square

Now take your tool and make a square buckle like in the image. You simply bush your tool inside the clay on 4 sides see the red on the square that is how you will form the buckle. You will have a bump of clay on the inside and a long line of clay on the outside giving it a buckle look .Tap the outside to give it a square shape and the buckle is done.

the red indicated where to push on the clay to make the buckle

hat done

Next is the pumpkin.Take the larger ball of clay and roll it smooth.Place it on a clean surface.I used a lip balm tube to make my indention because it made them look cute.You can use anything you want to make the indention on your pumpkin.

push in on the pumpkin to form the
indention

roll your tool up toward the top of the ball

Push in the clay and roll upward to the top of the ball of clay.
Do this all the way around the ball of clay
This is what it will look like after you have all the indention made.

B-
pin cap

finished indention

C-
push down in center of pumpkin

Not take your pin and push into the center top of the pumpkin this will give you a space for the leaves to sit . See the images B and C

This is what it will look like after using the
pin

squash gently down

Now take your finger and GENTLY push down a little more to give it a squashy look (pumpkins are not usual perfectly round )

D-
indent in between and half
way down.

Now take your tool again and put indention from top to half way down to bottom (between the whole indention's see image D)

pumpkin -this is what it looks lie when finished

leaf ball

Now for the leaf.Take a bit of clay and roll it to a tear drop shape.

leaf tear drop shape

flatten tear drop

Next flatten it between fingers. It should look like image E

E-
flatten tear drop leaf

leaf

make a indention in middle of leaf

now using tool and make a indention down the center of the leaf It will look like image F.

F-
indention down middle of leaf

Now make even marks on each side of the indention being careful not to cut into the middle indention . Image G.

G-
indention evenly on each side

finished leaf

Now place leaf on pumpkin.Make 1 or 2 more smaller leaf and lightly attach them to the other leaf .

2 leafs on pumpkin

curled leaf slightly

Now you can lightly curl the leaf by pushing gently up on the leaf from the underside .Play with it till it is the way yo want it.

set hat on top

Set your hat on top ,I like to put it on and angel I
think it looks cute that way. But you can set it however you want it.

Finished pumpkin with witch hat

There it is so cute! If you use clay to be baked ,I usually take it apart and cook the hat ,pumpkin and leaves alone so I can paint them without messing it up .Meaning I have tried cooking it all put together and when I painted it I was repainting it over again because I got paint on the parts I already painted. SO FRUSTRATING! After I paint them and Let them dry I use a little bit of E6000 to glue them together. and that's it .If you make any I would love to see the finished product. Just email or post a comment with a link.
Enjoy creating and
Remember

Have fun doing what you Love
and
Love what you aredoing

Create Your Own Spell Book For Halloween

2011-10-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

I just had to share this blog post from polish The Stars ! Head on over and see how you can create this spell book very simply! Also look around her blog,she has some wonderful things to share !

Polish The Stars:
Snow White Spell Book

Remember

Have fun doing what you Love and Love what you are doing!!

Halloween Decorating at the Dark Hallow

2011-10-24T22:52:00.001-07:00

Check out my Halloween blog Dark Hallow for great decorating tutorials that are budget friendly ! click the link to go to http://salemdarkhallow.blogspot.com/ for my Halloween tuts!Below are some images of the things you will find at the Dark Hallow!! Except Lucy! I couldn't resist her wearing the Mad Hatter hat I made years ago.Intrested in making one of your own? Check out ThreadBanger by clicking the link http://www.threadbanger.com/tb-projects/episode/THR_20091009

Crystal Ball

Mad Hatter Hat
from
ThreadBanger.com

Lucy is ready for her treats!

Lucy is not sure about this Halloween thing

Creepy fireplace Waiting for a witch to cook a brew

Creepy shelf mini cauldrons ,crystal ball severed hand

Creepy cloth movie shelf

Skull Tree
A Ray creation

Voodo doll

Voodo/witch doctor table

Bottles waiting to be filled with magic potions

enjoy Halloween this year with your family and friends and be safe on this festive Holiday!!

Have fun doing what youLove and Love what you aredoing

Free4real Metin2 RPG Free Game

2011-10-16T10:20:00.000-07:00

This is not a normal post but I wanted to share what I have been Playing online. Free4real Metin2 is a role playing game . If you like playing game with other people but hate to pay a monthly fee ,then this a game you should give a try. Metin2 is not a new game ,but it is in allot of countries with people of different languages . Free4real metin2 is in English and I would say still in the toddler stage . I played other metin2 servers and have enjoyed them.but for me free4real metin2 gives me a chance to start fresh and enjoy the game from a new player view.

They have in game malls that you can purchase things with in game gold ,blacksmith to upgrade your gear to better play ,weapon store,armor store,bank ,basically allot of things to purchase in game with in game gold. The players are supper nice ,the forum is always monitored and the members are so helpful. http://free4real.websitetoolbox.com/

Come have some fun with us and create new friends the world over !

http://free4real.hopto.org