"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my True Love Gave to Me…

On the tenth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
Ten Lords a-Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a-Milking
Seven Swans a-swimming
Six Geese a-Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

They’re either Irish or drunk. Or Irish and drunk. Of they’re cangaroos. Our favorite artists have covered pretty much all variants of the situation.

1. Toni Pilling

Lords a-leaping? We need no lords a-leaping. For the artist behind Tee Pee Creations, we’re in sore need of Festive Fords a-beeping. Fair enough.

2. Laura Fisk

If you’re still convinced you don’t need lords but you’re not that much into cars and their noises, Laura Fisk of Fisk and Fern might have what you’re looking for. She did all the 12 days of Christmas with pugs and her pugs are definitely a-leaping.

3. Hester Durkan

I was about to say “it’s not that kind of lords, Hester”, but what do I know? And these lords are definitely a-leaping.

 

I’ve decided to continue showing you beautiful stuff (or at least stuff I think it’s beautiful) even after Christmas, but instead of having monographic articles featuring single illustrators I’ll be grouping them with themes. As a theme I’m picking the Twelve Days of Christmas, a British carol I adore. If you never heard it (you’re clearly not Britsh) I suggest you take a look at this incredible performance.

 

books and literature

Fairytale Friday – The Bad Wife

A bad wife lived on the worst of terms with her husband, and never paid any attention to what he said. If her husband told her to get up early, she would lie in bed three days at a stretch; if he wanted her to

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calendar girl

Charlotte Riddell — The Old House in Vauxhall Walk (2)

Chapter 2 of Elizabeth Gaskell’s ghost story. Lying on the settle, with the fire burnt out, and the room in total darkness, Graham Coulton dreamed a curious dream. He thought he awoke from deep slumber to find a log smouldering away upon the hearth, and

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calendar girl

Charlotte Riddell — The Old House in Vauxhall Walk (1)

‘Houseless–homeless–hopeless!’ Many a one who had before him trodden that same street must have uttered the same words—the weary, the desolate, the hungry, the forsaken, the waifs and strays of struggling humanity that are always coming and going, cold, starving and miserable, over the pavements

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Charlotte Riddell — The Old House in Vauxhall Walk (1)

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