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🍏 Today I found some blue eggs and made them into an apple ‘wassail’ cake


Here in the South of England, there’s a tradition of the Apple Wassail. It’s supposedly centred around Twelfth Night, so I’m a bit early with this one, but there is a folktale from Somerset about the Apple Tree Man, which I read in Lisa Schneidau’s ‘Botanical Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland’.

The spirit of the orchard resides in the oldest apple tree, and when the disenfranchised brother offers his last drops of cider to the tree, he is rewarded by the spirit and animals - who can talk for a limited time - by the location of buried gold.

“Old apple tree, I wassail thee
And hoping thou will bear
For the lady knows where we shall be
Til apples come next year.”

He tipped the last of the cider at the roots of the tree and continued:

“For to bear well and to bloom well
So merry let us be,
Let every man take off his hat
And shout to the old apple tree.
Hats full, caps full, three bushel bags full,
And a gurt* heap under the stairs. Hurray!”

*’gurt’ = great in Middle English, and it also sounds fabulous with a deep, West Country accent, let me tell you.

Wherever you are, I wish you a warm and happy month, full of blessings and joy, despite the state of the world at the moment.

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Una de mis mejores amigas ama hornear y me invitó a preparar galletas florales con ella. 🏵️

Nos gusta mucho estar juntas, a mí me encanta su casa, es muy hogareña y antigua, tiene un tocadiscos en donde ponemos música y bailamos juntas alrededor de la mesa. 🎶

Rompemos los huevos, vertimos la leche fresca, nos ensuciamos de harina, reímos bromeamos, nos ponemos flores en el cabello, y nos sentamos a platicar mientras esperamos que las galletas estén listas. 🍪

Hablamos de magia, de sueños, de arte, de cuentos, de amor, de amistades, de aventuras, nuestras conversaciones son alegres y apasionadas, hablamos con el corazón, ambas sonreímos y nos reímos de todo lo que surge.

En la ventana una mariposa nos visita. 🦋 Respiro el delicioso aroma de esas galletas, jugamos con nuestros pies, risas, el sol de la tarde calienta la cocina, la madera de la isla en la que estamos sentadas es suave y tersa.

Todo está bien.~✨

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First rainy day in the little red cottage. It‘s a calm autumn rain, not a storm. Slow and still and steady.

For the first time, i can‘t see the sea. It‘s all soft white past the palmettos, past the little pastel stucco houses clinging to the hillside. No horizon, no separation of sea and sky, just deep endless plush pale nothing.

Fat drops tap the shutters shielding the open windows, white candles flicker, dry beans swell back to life in a deep black pot.

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🍄 Name change 🍄

Moulelegateau -> @cottagecorestudies

I have decided to change my username (…again)! What can I say I’m not afraid of change 🌞 I will still post the same things:

  • Books 🌿
  • Study posts 🌈
  • Language posts 🐸
  • Cottagecore-esq pictures 🌸

Just with some added ✨cottagecore✨ flair!

So goodbye ‘moulelegateau’ and hello ‘cottagecorestudies’ ! I’m hoping my blog will be easier to find for studyblr posts too, with studies now being in the title and not random letters that most people, including myself sometimes, cannot understand. While moule à gâteau means a lot to me personally, I think for a while I’ll keep it to myself ☺️🌷

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