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Posts Tagged with Snapdragon Tea

Published November 20, 2017

This Day in Tea


This Day in Tea - The Orange Moon Tea Society

As I sat down to write my tea day entries I looked over a very long expanse of time. I was taken back by how many things had happened on this day, how many people of note through the ages had been born, and just how staggering this day was and might always be. So I instead turned away from the history pages and took a walk. I took what I call the long walk that would take me into the local town. When I reached town I found my feet unconsciously leading me towards my most favorite of spots in this place: Etta Diem’s Attic Shoppe.

As I moved through the shoppe’s front doors I was greeted with the oddities, strange things, and all around dark beauty of this place. Sometimes it can be hard to find another whimsical soul with the same amount of dark spice thrown into the mix. Since first meeting her, I knew Etta was my kin. She would never allow herself to be pinned down between the darkness and the light. She would never let anyone say there weren’t a pantheon of characters who moved through both places. I can honestly say she was the one person who helped me embrace all things about me. This is perhaps why I sought her out on this day.

“Miss Pagona! My little Poppy Seed!” the infamous Etta greeted me with as she moved from behind her attic shoppe’s front counter. She was as she always could be found: Dressed in dark Victorian attire with plenty of brooding and bruised color blooms to decorate her hair and attire. She smelled like white water flowers and orange ginger. When she wrapped her arms around me for her friendly hug it felt like a mother’s hug and for a moment I could forget that my own mother had been gone for so long. It allowed me to take a moment and exhale.

“What is weighing you down my dear? Your face has a shadow across it that has nothing to do with the sun and obstructions. Come now! Tell auntie Etta.”

I took a breath and soon found words falling from my lips. “Aunt Etta, it’s such a strange thing. I wrote my tea notes about things that have happened in time, and then focused on someone and something far more bright. I couldn’t find that today. As I looked over the histories of this day I saw so many things that were dark. The few highlights I encountered were simply the end of something that had been so dark. I needed something bright to write about and I could find none. It darkened my thoughts so deeply that I couldn’t turn a clear eye to the immediate world around me and find something better.”

The look on Etta’s face was what I needed. It was the perfectly understanding with just a slight hint of a smirk: She knew something. “Come with me.” she whispered.

Published October 15, 2017

Snapdragon Tea: The Frightener’s Society


The book was as beautiful as it was dark and haunting. It’s rather strange design suggested it was a handmade creation and most likely one of a kind. It was covered in a very rich material, with a collage of images on the front that almost looked like a shallow shadowbox. When looking at the book standing up it almost appeared to be an eclectic theater hosting a Halloween play and all manner of costumed and bewitched characters were taking part. At the very bottom of this scene were metal letters that spelled: The Frightener’s Society.

Emily let her fingers move over the details of the book finding herself wanting to hold off opening the cover for as long as she could. The longer she waited the more her anticipation grew and she wanted to feel the full thrill of cracking the cover to discover what lay within such an eccentrically crafted thing.

The young girl’s slim fingers finally reached for the heavy latch that held the book shut. The latch gave a satisfying twang as it sprang open and immediately the heavily compressed pages within pushed out. There was a small cough of dust that came from it like the book was alive and getting its first taste of fresh air in a long time. Emily gripped the heavy front cover and pulled it open…


The Frightener’s Society – A Snapdragon Tea Short Story – More Stories
Snapdragon Tea and its characters are copyright Bethalynne Bajema. All Rights Reserved


Published September 6, 2017

Paper Doll Wars


Leelu shared a room with Tac, as well as Willum, though no one mentioned this because Willum’s room was really somewhere deeper within the house. Leelu’s room simply provided the small door that would lead Willum to his nest, as Tac was fond of calling it. None of this really mattered at the moment, for Leelu’s room could no longer be considered a place of rest, a place to store her clothes, a place for privacy, and Tac was a bit afraid to go in there. Leelu’s room had become a place of winter.

Sun shone through the window, but it didn’t cut through dust particles or come to rest on some fat cat caught in its beam. At any given time white, pale shades of almond, or deeper tree greens or stabbed vein colors floated through the air in a blizzard of cut paper. Through this chill-less storm a paper-doll castle was fashioned in the east, with a fort to protect it just a step away. To the west a forest of razor curved snowflakes hung from twine and stolen shoelaces. To the south and north were makeshift villages and campsites. And everywhere underfoot were the paper-dolls themselves heaped in their cultural classes.

The warrior class stood their ground in the fort before their castle. Whether there was royalty inside or not didn’t seem to matter, the soldiers each were at the ready with sharp ended pencils, the sharp ends of compasses, broken scissors parceled off to two soldiers, and any other item remotely capable of undoing a paper born body. They’d even formed a unified look of uniform using bits of the dried blood paper shards and pennies for armor. They each wore small curved hats of the same deep red.

Beneath the winter forest of flat snowflakes a hungry crowd gathered of malcontents and those who would have the castle or those places better built in-between. They attached the lose crud of the floor to their paper bodies to give themselves more substance. Some had taken to yarn and floss to decorate their heads, or else to adorn their bodies. Tribes were forming from the lint that littered the ground. Some had taken to the trashcan to better equip their flat bodies. More adventurous types had found Willum’s secret door and were attempting to access it to see if better bounty lay there.

As this went on, the soldiers upped their attire with outfits of larger copper change breastplates and twisted paper clips to hold them in place. They banged their weapons onto their protected chests and egged on the attack. And all those who lived in the places in-between quietly wished everyone would just settle down.

Somewhere in the thickest of the flying flutter of cut paper, Leelu was continuing to build her dynasty of paper. There were red circles around the places the elaborately worked scissor handles had come to bite into the skin of her fingers. The sweat off her skin seemed to feed the insect like shapes at the tops of the snipping sheers. Her eyes were set upon nothing but the paper in her hand and the instrument that was cutting it into something new. Like energy, her mind raged, once created, never destroyed, just changed, and changed, and changed. The paper was energy the scissors were telling her, and they needed to change, to forever be changing. Even the fierce collection of paper-cuts dotting her skin and the long thin lines of drying blood could not raise her attention from her duties.

Published August 18, 2017

The Moon Has Many Names


“The moon has different names?” Emily asked as she looked up into the night sky. Miss Emma nodded her head slowly and looked towards the full moon shining down on them. A smile slowly passed over her lips as she thought about the many, many full moons she’d seen in her days.

“Oh yes. A different name for every month of the year. This was how people in very old times kept track of their seasonal times. For those who lived here in those distant days they often called this the Milk Moon or the Full Flower Moon for this was the time when you’d see your spring flowers bringing color back into the world.” Miss Emma grew quiet for a moment as her thoughts traveled elsewhere. She looked towards the dense line of dark that was the start of the forest and a very old memory came to mind. “I once knew it by a different name though…”

Published August 12, 2017

The Blue Girls


Urban Fairy Rescue League - The Blue Girls

The greenhouse was briefly home to three petal pixies and a fairy that were very partial to blue blooms. Mab found a spot for them where she planted a blue rainbow of flowers for them to frolic through. These little guys are off to the fair this weekend for fundraising. 🙂

Published July 13, 2017

Pixie-o-Gram


The Dollhouse at the Back of the Attic The Dollhouse at the Back of the Attic

So Miss Moxie Mox cloth doll and her companion Hooter Todd are off to their new home today. The real Miss Moxie Mox and her tiny hooting companion have been staying with us for five months now. She was originally found living in a window garden in Chicago. She needed a little more room and found her way here. Now that she’s all back to perky and sassy self, she’s considering going back and finding a nice floral shop to call home for a bit and see if she can find any of her kin in need. Mab is going to miss doll and pixie alike.

Published June 15, 2017

The Owl Girls


The Urban Fairy Rescue League - The Owl Girls

After Moxie Mox visited us with her mini owl friend, Green Spring and Brown Leaf found their way to the greenhouse with their own little owls in tow. These cloth dolls Mab made for them are now in Miss Blue’s workshop.

Published September 3, 2016

Miss Emma


Miss Emma

While sorting through our archives today we stumbled upon a rare illustrated notice for the Orange Moon Tea Society. If my eyes are to be believed a Miss Emma in her prime is the model!

Published April 25, 2016

A Perfect Day for Sipping Tea and Planning a Garden.


Black Flowers

Emily stepped through the back door of Etta Diem’s Attic Shoppe and was greeted by a very intriguing sight: She wasn’t quite sure if it was a good intriguing or bad intriguing at first blush.

The backyard that spread out behind the eccentric woman’s equally eccentric home and shoppe was a visual example of one gardener’s dedication to flowers that chased after the color of a bruise. There were all manner of nature’s opulent takes on the color black, rich wine, the deepest of dark purples, and the occasional lush violet to highlight the depth of darkness the other colors portrayed. The young woman had never seen such a dark garden before. And despite such darkness of blooms their colors only served to make all the greenery around them seem so much more lush and alive. It even highlighted the pale color of the large collection of stone lunar moths that were spread out among the neatly organized flower beds.

“It was like the fabled woman that hid behind the veil of the night needed to have her own space to belong to when the sun was keeping the shadows at bay. This place was like a whisper and breath of midnight no matter the hour of the day. Emily decided she liked it. It suited the shoppe-keep well


A sample from: Snapdragon Tea, Chapter III – More Stories
Snapdragon Tea and its characters are copyright Bethalynne Bajema. All Rights Reserved


Published January 28, 2016

Snapdragon Tea – Minerva Mox’s Secret


The Orange Moon Oracle

Chapter II / Part II / Minerva Mox’s Secret

On Friday night of her first week at the boarding house Emily decided to ask Minerva if it was time that she could tell the young woman her story as promised on her first day.

The two of them were sitting on the open, second floor porch where Emily had her first meal with her great aunt and her old friend. This was actually the pair’s favorite place in the house. It was quiet and set apart from the places in the massive house that could get loud with activity at times. It offered a lovely view of the outlying lands around the place. And there was no better view of the stars overhead at night. Emily approved of the spot. In fact it has also become her favorite place, especially after the sun had set and the lightning bugs took to the surrounding fields.

“So what’s your story Minerva?” Emily asked. She’d waited for Miss Emma to excuse herself to take a bath before asking. Her poor aunt’s bones tended to get to her towards the end of the day. As her bones got to her a little of her patience for her niece’s curiosity grew thin.

Minerva was sitting in her rocking chair gently moving herself back and forth. She didn’t answer at first. She continued to look towards the heavens with a thoughtful expression on her old face.

In the candlelight Emily was able to see the old woman in a somewhat different light. The warm glow of the candle flame had a wonderful effect where it almost made all the old woman’s age lines smooth out. In that light Emily could almost see what a younger version of the woman looked like. Her features were very petite and had a very youthful quality to them; like the face of a teenage girl who had yet to grow into what her womanly face would finally look like. Emily could see Minerva having been a very pretty young woman.

Eventually Minerva pulled her dark shawl around her shoulders and sighed heavily. All of her gruffness was released with that sigh. Without it Minerva almost sounded like a teenage girl playing old woman dress up.

“My story… your aunt would probably kill me for sharing that with you so soon. But it’s a beautiful summer night and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. That’s a good time for a memory tale. There are storms forecast for next week… I don’t like storms so much. I can’t talk about myself when there is thunder around. And lightning… ”

She fell silent again. Her mind was drifting back in time and it was no easy thing for her to do. She had to be in the right head space though. When she spoke her voice was that of a teenage girl. It was something surreal to hear.

“I was about to turn eighteen. I lived in a very well to do estate with my parents during Victorian times. I never had to want for a thing. It was an absolute wonder I didn’t become a spoiled, self involved creature like many of my female counterparts of the time. I attribute this to the influence of my grandmother. She and my grandfather worked hard for the lavish lifestyle my mother was born into. And when my mother married rich and doubled her fortunes, my grandmother made a decision to make sure her grandchildren didn’t become soft like their parents. I was her only grandchild so that gave her a lot of free time to focus on me alone. Read More

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