My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and a pretty *ugly* tale

She was a girl who flouted classic beauty. Indeed, she was what the French might call jolie-laide. She had her own style, her own mannerisms, her own odd quirks. While others followed trends, her look was dictated only by her moods -- sometimes subdued, sometimes flamboyant. An average day might require several wardrobe changes.  She managed to stand out and yet blend in wherever she went.  She had an uncanny ability to fit in.

She was, in short, unforgettable.

 
Camelia, the newest resident at Peacock Pavilions. 5 inches long.  We’re all mesmerized….

***

PS Take a peek at my new stock of cozy Moroccan carpets.  The perfect Christmas present to yourself?

Marrakech: and a tasty little tale

My in-laws are visiting from America and so every night we've been having dinner in our pavilion dining room with china, tablecloths and candles.  After dinner, we've been sitting by the fireplace, with a fire roaring, sipping herbal tea poured from silver Moroccan teapots.    It's made week nights feel so special:-)

Here's hoping that your weekend is filled with special meals with special people (and if it's not, there's still time to make it happen!)...

 

 

 My images from Kashmir

Marrakech: and a tale of Skylar's party

Now I'm not certain how it's possible --- because I am quite sure she was a baby only last month -- but it seems that Skylar turned 8 this past weekend.  Celebrations were in order!

It started out early with the blowing up of balloons...

until they were quite literally everywhere.

 
Then Peacock Pavilions got all dressed up for the party.

There was a Berber tent, pink paisley awnings and Moroccan carpets and poufs put out on the lawn.  And then the first little girl arrived.

 
  Soon there was a gaggle of little girls & several parents, too.

 

There were homemade cupcakes on silver flower trays.

And there was gobbling of the permitted variety.

Oh, there were games!  There was an elaborate treasure hunt with teams and clues, a table to make friendship bracelets, and a visit to the peacocks.  And there was a fun contest to eat apples and donuts without your hands.

 There was vast amounts of hoola hooping (rumored to be a sport in the next Olympics).

Even grownups got in on the action....

 

Presents were taken and kisses were given.
 

But it all went by too fast.  (Truly, wasn't she only a baby last month?)  And in the end, all that was left were the memories...

And a string of partially eaten apples.

Marrakech and Kashmir: and a tale of dreams and patience

Here’s the thing:  making your dreams come true isn't a speedy process.  In fact, I’ve devised a mathematical equation to represent this accurately.

 

Estimated time necessary to make dream come true + time to deal with obstacles you never thought of  + time to make the extra money that you didn’t realize you needed – bouts of good fortune that arrive out of nowhere – compromises you make along the way that weren’t at the heart of the dream anyway = Real time to make dream come true

 

Do you follow?  If not, let me put it in other words:  Making dreams come true takes more time than you think.

 

So patience, yes, patience, is a highly desirable trait.  It turns out that it’s just what your grandmother told you (or mine did, anyway).

 

Recently, I had an epiphany along these lines watching the pashmina weavers of Kashmir.  You see, they understand intrinsically that beautiful things (much like beautiful dreams) can’t be hurried.  Because ultimately, it’s all about you and the loom, or rather, you and the dream -- the quality of the product depends on the quality of the design, the materials, the effort (and dare I say, the love) you put into it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

(My grandmother would have nodded her head approvingly.)