A tale of two american states that start with the letter M , Montana and Minnesota, and two beautiful nature loving women who live in them.
First off is Rachel from Minnesota. If you know Rachel already you will know she has a thing for eggs and nests. Her blog is a testimony to that fact. If you don't know her I would please ask you to come out from under that stone and get to know her. She has so many wonderful ideas on her blog especially if you have a young family. She really pays extra special attention to all the little details that turn a hand made item into a treasured keepsake.
You can get a feel for what I am saying by looking at this series of pictures of her parcel. I was looking for an image of where the stones came from a beach on Lake Superior near Duluth according to Rachel and came across this awesome vintage postcard.
Next is the parcel from Siri who has lived almost her entire life near mountains of Montana. Is you have seen images of her homestead you would agree with me that if you lived somewhere that complete in natural beauty why on earth would you ever want to live elsewhere. This parcel began as a sort of blog giveaway and as time passed it turned into something much more. She knit the softest and most beautiful shade or orangish pink neck shawl and that was only the beginning of a very exciting parcel. First off I was looking for a vintage photo of Montana and came across curious one of the friendly wildlife.
I should have subtitled this the Alice installment because each of these wonderful women included a tribute or memory of Alice in the parcel. Siri with the wonderful pinkness of everything. In her words " lots of love coming your way in the form of wooly stitches, smooth pink stones and some fabric pieces from my little stash o' vintage textiles." Rachel who also lost her mother to cancer last year passed on a small smooth green stone that a friend had given to her with a note. One part of it goes like this ,"One blessedly ordinary day , we wake up without the weight of a boulder on our hearts. In place of the boulder at our breast is a smooth pebble in our hand. We hold it for a minute, remembering. Then with a kiss, we put it in our pocket." As I was reading this a tiny little friend came out from the forget me nots in a small green vintage container on the porch table and we shared the last sunlight of the day together and it was good.