My Return… (& a cake recipe)

May 18, 2025May 30, 2025 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers.

It has been a while. I’m afraid that I’ve left behind quite a few friends and quite a few strangers. Forgot to call or couldn’t make myself. It has been a long year. It’s actually been a long four years if I’m honest. This place was something I built for myself to escape that. And whatever this house is made of, it’s sat empty for too long. I’m always leaving my doors and windows open and wondering why the sills are water damaged and there are bugs in the linens. A mess on the floor that I left myself to pick up in the future. I’m tired of all of it. And I’m tired of myself.

And I’ve come back now, and it’s bleak, this house. I left it lightless. And this is when I need it most. Returned on an overcast day. My nose is running as a wet breeze hits my face. So, I’ve brought a candle in a shoe box to put in the window and bags of tea tied to the beltloop of my pants. There should still be supplies here I can use to clean this up. I am not so magical here as to be above owning a washer and dryer… And a vacuum cleaner. (I don’t tell people that, brooms are so much more aesthetically pleasing than vacuum cleaners.) Anyways, look, a thunderstorm is coming.

I’ll have a guest arriving later with a cake I made in his kitchen. I took my picture for this recipe there. It’s a long trip, but he said he’d bring it to me, so I know he will. This one is special, and I love him dearly. He keeps his word. He loves me back. I could almost swear he’s made of sunshine, but there’s water behind his eyes which knocks him off balance sometimes. And he is so good.

Now, for cooler, darker spring days, here’s a recipe that will hopefully remind you of a hot cup of tea with a bit of rum, spiced:

Hot Toddy Cake

Cake:

2 1/2 cups flour

1 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon coriander

The contents of one black tea bag

2 eggs

3/4 cups vegetable oil

1/3 cup water

2 tablespoons sour cream

Simple syrup:

1 handful of sugar

1 tablespoon rum

2 tablespoons black tea

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Frosting:

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1 cup powdered sugar

2 tablespoons spiced rum

2 tablespoons black tea

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine all dry ingredients before adding oil, water, eggs, and sour cream. Mix until smooth and pour into a greased 9×9 round cake pan. Bake for forty minutes or until a knife inserted comes out clean.

For the simple syrup, I simply mix a handful of sugar into my hot liquid. When the cake comes out, after cooling a little while, I drizzle or spoon it on.

For the whipped topping, whip the cream until soft peaks form, then add in sugar, rum, tea, and lemon juice, and mix again. This icing has a lighter, smoother texture and less sugar than a buttercream or cream cheese icing, which I personally enjoy. After the cake has fully cooled, pour the icing/frosting onto the cake and smooth out with the back of a spoon.

And that’s the recipe.

You know, I love this home because I have the power here. I’m not beholden to anyone. I am not at anyone’s mercy. And for a long time, I thought I built it for all of you. I love you so. But I think I built it because this is a place where people have to come to me. And if they come to me, I can’t be a burden. No one can tell me that I was too heavy to carry. Or how expensive I am. This is space I can afford to take up. I’m very grateful for that. And I’m very grateful for those who visit me here, on my terms, because I’m really a person who is very afraid of the rejection and resentment of others.

Relieved to be back,

—Mabel

P.S., the thunder outside is getting louder.

cottagecore

I’m Reintroducing Myself

January 12, 2024 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers.

I’ve been gone a while, but I thought about this space a lot. I love this blog, but I realized along the way that it was getting harder and harder to write, and I knew why but I hadn’t fully processed it.

When I first started this blog, I wanted to give myself a place to practice my writing and work through ideas I have about life and creativity, but I also wanted an escape for me and for the people that would find it. It was a dark time. I didn’t talk about that nearly as much as I could have. It wouldn’t be the place I wanted to stay if I had.

I’ve mentioned a house in the woods, with a light in the window. And though I’m sure most of you could tell from my writing that I am a young woman, in my mind I didn’t have to have an age. I could just be Mabel, and I actually hoped people might imagine me as an older woman. I at least wanted to cast doubt, because Mabel is a character. She is a deflection away from who I really am. And if I’m honest, when I started this blog, I didn’t want to be a young woman with an uncertain life ahead and no idea what I’m doing. I wanted to feel steady, and ready to face any reality, and any other life that came into my orbit.

I wanted to be someone, who even if the world was ending, she would look out the window at the fires in the distance with a sadness in her eyes, but not fear. She’d turn with determined attention back to what she was baking, tidy the kitchen, and prepare for any guests including Jesus. The end of the world doesn’t happen in a day, you know. There are bound to be stragglers.

The problem I came to was that not acknowledging my life, my age, and the person I believe I am, I was unable to share as much as I wanted to about anything. It made me incapable of creating a home here. So now I think it’s time to reintroduce myself.

I’m 21 years old, and only moved out of my parents’ home a few months ago.

I’m in university earning a degree in studio art. I want to build a business selling wood sculptures.

That plan changes every two weeks.

Also, the reason my writing schedule fell off later last year was because of my university schedule, and it will likely fall off again this semester.

My real-life personality is much louder and more awkward than the one that I write here. I also have severe anxiety that I am very good at hiding but it impacts my functioning in almost every faction of my life.

I live in the city now, and suburbs before that. I’ve never quite lived in the country, though some places have come close.

This blog is a mix of reality and fantasy. If I talk about a cottage or a cabin or my old, gnarled hands, I’m telling a story.

The stories I choose to tell might change the vibe of the home I make here but I still want it to be a good place.

Those are some points of clarity for things I either haven’t mentioned or have only mentioned briefly. I made you read all that because I don’t think I can do what I want to do if I’m not a real person with a real life. And real-life grates on me. I’m not excited about ‘life’ anymore. But if someone feels the same, I’m still aiming to have some hope, and have some happy little lights here. So keep stopping by.

And Happy New Year!

–Mabel

Small Dream Saturday

Small Dream Saturday: A Brief History of Vampires

September 23, 2023September 23, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers,

I am nothing if not (in)consistent. Today (eleven o’clock at night,) I am going to do things a bit differently; I am going to reveal to you the surprising and potentially very inaccurate history of the folkloric tradition of vampires as I have learned it.

Beginning in the Slavic region of Europe, ‘wampyrs’ or ‘vampyrs’ were not blood sucking demons but were actually mythic creatures that sucked the rain from the storm clouds and causing the droughts that starved communities. Similar to the gods of other communities, they served as explanations for weather patterns and as causes of human suffering.

After this, it came to mean a race of creatures that devoured celestial bodies including the sun, and also the moon. They were thought to be the cause of eclipses and blood moons, when they would bite the moon, turning it red. Now, interestingly, this is also where the werewolf myth begins. Part of the vampyr myth was that they could shapeshift into creatures like crows, cats, rabbits, and, you guessed it, wolves. Because of this, and because of the new lore surrounding the moon and stars, historians have a difficult time deciding which myths belong to which creatures, and the meanings of the name that they shared for a long time. To this day, there is conflict between vampires and werewolves not only in the interpretation of their stories, but also as characters in the stories themsleves.

After all of this, we arrive at the familiar tale of the blood sucking demon. There wasn’t much to tell here, it was simply a terrifying supernatural creature, feeding on the blood of humans. Until it became something else. Something closer to a human.

If a human were to turn into a vampire, (forgive my many spellings of the word, I know it’s distracting,) there was usually a reason for it. Parents might curse their child, and when that child died, they would return as a vampire, roaming restlessly in search of human blood. They might be a child born out of wedlock, a union not blessed by God. I take issue with that kind of assertion, because I believe that God is merciful and that every person will have a chance to repent of their sins and be saved. I take issues with stories that twist our perception of reality, but it was a cultural belief at the time The third way one could become a vampire was through sorcery. If a magician was already playing with dark forces, then when they died, their corpse might be overtaken by a demon and used to steal blood. Not just human either, a lot of sheep and cattle were killed for a very long time.

From this myth, we find the introduction of the vampire into mainstream media in England, and then America: Bram Stoker’s Dracula. (This statement ignores the many myths already present in distinctive stories held by various Native American tribes, and it is an interesting note that while the modern vampire can be traced back to Slavic origins, there are cultures all over the world from Africa, to Asia, to the Americas and beyond who have their own tales of blood-sucking creatures similar to the vampire.) But! Nonetheless, Dracula was a beginning of the vampire for the American people. A nearly human, but still greedy, conniving, lusting, blood thirsty monster. And yet even in the novel, there was some sympathy for him.

Dracula is modern, but Twilight, True Blood, and The Vampire Diaries, are contemporary examples of the vampire in literature, and they have undergone yet another shift. While they maintain their warnings of and brushes with female sexuality, lust, and demonology, these vampires are no longer demons, even if they maintain their offensive religious imagery. Religion is even touched on directly and from the vampire’s perspective in Twilight; Edward Cullen thinks that as a vampire, he is beyond saving, beyond the grace of God, and unwanted by God. In The Vampire Diaries, the two leading brothers struggle to find a sense of morality and love. Also undead politics and eating people. But the point is, vampires have changed in a fundamental way: they are no longer demons, they are representations of fallen man.

Within the realm of storytelling, vampires are at a place at last where they might seek redemption. Instead of representing fear, evil, and famine, they represent the human lost. The unwanted. The dangerous, and the people who think they are too far gone. It is time, in fiction, for the vampire’s redemption.

All stories are a product of their time and culture. We tell stories based on the state of reality, and of the thoughts in our heads that maybe we are not ready to think about in their realest forms. Our culture today is lost, listless, restless, and evil. But fully human. And in the stories of today, there is an ingrained belief that even a vampire can be redeemed.

I have a hero complex, but I will never save anybody, in any way. My small dream at the end of this Saturday is a prayer that the lost would come home.

All my love to you,

–Mabel

art · Small Dream Saturday

Small Dream Saturday: Forgotten Paintings

August 5, 2023August 5, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers.

I was gone last week. Usually, dreams are a way of looking to the future. But last Saturday, I began the process of making one dream come true.

I have wanted a thrift store painting for years. One to paint over and alter, working with the original, not on my own. A collaboration spanning years. The problem is that I haven’t been willing to spend forty dollars on an ancient painting that might have bugs in it when all I want to do is paint on top of it. So I’ve looked for years. Some were too pretty for me to consider painting over. Some seemed ugly to me , and I had no vision for them and didn’t want to take the chance.

I went to an estate sale on Saturday. My grandmother’s actually, and although it’s been a sad process, it’s been wonderful in that her cherished things have been passed down to the next generations. And there was this painting from the hallway. My aunts begged me to take one. I remember walking past it and specifically thinking, ‘I wouldn’t even buy that to paint over.’ It was harsh. I really didn’t like it.

So I took it home.

I didn’t like the original color scheme. It was very orange and very brown, yet pale, and the color in the mountains and sky was a sickly green color. But I liked the framing of the trees and thought the water was well blended. After some thinking, I decided that I wanted to keep the painting very similar, but instead of a sunset, I would paint a dusk scene. I was heavily inspired by Robin Sealark’s landscapes and skyscapes, with impressionistic brushstrokes and whimsical colors. They look to me like dreams.

Using gouache, I went about doing a wash of dark blue across the sky, leaving the brightness of the orange center intact. I let it dry and continued to build it in increasingly more opaque layers.

I muted the red of the foreground and continued blocking in colors.

Here I started blending the colors, making sure to leave the streaks of brushstrokes. I added in a bolder yellow where the sun was setting, and of course, the sun. I then began muting the color of the mountain.

I continued blending, darkening edges, adding a red haze over the mountain, and rebuilding the form of the trees I covered up when I painted the sky. I added my first layer of stars.

In the final stages, I added more stars, fireflies, and outlined the tops of the trees. I reddened the sun, turned the yellow light a more peachy tone, added sunbeams, and tinted the highlights in the leaves and tree trunks red. I punched up the colors in the water’s reflections, and added new highlights to the rocks and marsh weeds so it would all feel cohesive. I wanted it to seem almost like there was a rainbow there, even though the sun was leaving.

This is the final piece!

The original frame had gold and copper colors like the sunset, but I felt that a blue layer of wood would tie things together. The final step was to add varnish, and here we are.

Working with the piece gave me a new respect for the artist. It was like I was sitting where she sat, looking in a way at what she saw. The original artist’s signature is still there, not completely covered. Her name was Rosina. I’m so thankful she made this piece of art, and that because of her I was allowed to paint something that reminds me of my childhood and mysteries and summer.

This piece is titled, ‘Rosina’s Fireflies.’

It was an encouraging reminder that the whole point of having small dreams is that they are achievable while still being beautiful in a way that doesn’t quite seem real. We are the ones who have to pursue goodness and beauty. Or at least be receptive when the opportunities we’ve been waiting for arrive.

Happy Saturday, Strangers.

–Mabel

cottagecore

A Different Light

July 12, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers, and all my love to you.

In the spirit of a gray day, I need you to know that my eyes are falling shut, and I feel like my mind is swimming. Everything has that sleepy distortion over it like a filter. This might not make sense, but I’ve had to take my glasses off so that I can see.

And honestly, that’s just what today’s post is about.

Earlier in the week, I was walking shelter dogs during a thunderstorm. Throughout the season, lighting has struck down multiple trees in the little wooden area where we take the dogs on our way back to their pens, and fallen trees block some of the paths. It was dangerous to use that route on this morning, but none of us really heeded the warnings. And every time I’m out there, on the plank bridges above the ebbing stream, next to the rotting logs covered in moss, turtle shells and rabbit dens, and birds—more brightly colored than they seem they should be—I always want to take pictures. And I never have the time.

But finally, on this morning, I finished with the dogs and there was just enough time to take a couple of shots before I had to leave. That was when I noticed the blue light refractions on my glasses. Usually not a fan of that color palette, that day I saw a universe in the lenses. Speckles, in the path beyond.

You’ll all get tired of me saying this, I say it often now; the world is a dark place. But I think part of our responsibility as those who live here is to try, as often as possible, to see things in a different light.

Love,

–Mabel

Small Dream Saturday

Small Dream Saturday: entry 13

June 24, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Good morning, Strangers.

Velma Dinkley: Chocolate Ice Cream at Night

When I was a child, I watched Scooby Doo obsessively. Didn’t matter the series or story, show or movie, it was guaranteed the tv was mine from 7:00 to 7:30 every single night. It was family ordained. I’d stand there eating a hotdog at the border between the kitchen and living room.

Scooby Doo was the seed that grew the desires to have a van and go on road-trips. It led me to consider becoming a private detective, and inspired my addiction to mysteries and fantasy alike. It was the first thing that made me feel clever and sparked an interest in cryptozoology.

I have three small dreams for this morning. They get smaller as they go along.

1. I would like to write a Scooby Doo television series. Scooby Doo is a franchise that acts like a comic book world. There are alternate universes with different sets of lore, different kinds of stories, different art styles, tones, and even character development. I think it’s likely that in twenty years, we’ll still be making Scooby Doo shows. And I’d like to write one.

2. A smaller dream, but still large, is that I would like to have insulated sheds on my very wild, natural property. These sheds would hold animation/digital art tech, so that I could make short videos, but also much longer and more detailed comic books and graphic novels that I would then self-publish. (Or maybe publish traditionally! Who knows?) They would be cool and dark, and they’d be an escape from their more primitive surroundings.

3. This is the littlest dream, and it’s the one that will prepare me for dreams 1 and 2. I’m going to write as much fan fiction as possible. I should have started when I was twelve like all the other writers, but I just wasn’t ready. So now, I’m going to be indulgent. I’m going to learn by doing, and even if it’s all hot garbage, I am going to have fun and grow as a person as I write incomprehensible cross overs, multiple-plot line series’s, and just fun, ridiculous one off stories. It’s going to be magnificent, and I know that because I’ve already started. My motto is quantity over quality. For that is the way to improve.

That’s all for now! Happy Saturday, my dears, and happy writing! All love,

—Mabel

Small Dream Saturday

Small Dream Saturday: Entry 10

April 8, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Mornin’ Strangers!

I’ll be brief because this week’s dream will most likely never happen. (But maybe! Maybe.)

I came up with this idea for a shop that in the spring and summer was a regular ice cream parlor. It would have herbs and flowers in window boxes outside, soft pastel colors, and fun brightly colored art in unique frames. The ice cream would be made in house but would be in the classic flavors. I’d have cold sandwiches and baked goods like blondies and brownies.

But in the fall and winter?

In the vats that had held the ice cream, there would now be soup. Some vats would contain only broth; tonkatsu, fish, and chicken broth for ramen noodles, the special broth made for pho, etc., and some would contain whole soups like chicken and dumpling, chicken pot pie, beef stews like caldillo etc. The lighting and decor would change, the interiors would become more neutral, some small plants would come inside, and I would continue to serve sandwiches, hot and cold, and I would serve tea.

Honestly, I might find a way to do that with a food truck someday, instead of a full-scale restaurant. Food trucks have plenty of their own challenges, but that might be really lovely. Ramen noodles and rice noodles and their broths, then some broccoli cheese soup, some stew…. Coffee, tea, and some bread. It could be absolutely lovely. In the summer I could switch to icees, frozen treats, and lemonade. It’s dawning on me that I’m beginning to talk myself into this.

It’s like I always say, the more dreams you have…The more dreams you have. It keeps life bright.

I hope you have a bright day,

–Mabel

Art & Writing · Writing

What I Thought Writing a Book Would be Like

March 24, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers,

Welcome! How have you been? Personally, I’m glad to be back here; this blog feels like the inside of the cottage I have in my head. This post will discuss some of the preconceived notions I had about writing a novel, and what ended up being true instead. (There’s a note about my future plans for the ‘Art and Writing’ section of my blog at the end.)

Writing would be a linear process.

I thought that if I had 30,000 words written, that would mean I’d be about a third of the way through my narrative. In other words, writing a book would be like reading a book and all the pieces would fall neatly into place.

What actually happened:

With 30,000 words written, I have a rough beginning, middle, and end. As I continue, I’m building in more character development and foreshadowing, and after I work through those, I plan to add more depth to the plot and detail to the world building. After I finished that first draft, I wrote quite a few things out of order as I realized I needed them.

I’d only have one outline.

I assumed that I’d use one outline that detailed the entire story, and maybe I’d add to that if I needed to.

What actually happened:

I have a main outline which enabled me to write my first draft. However, when I read through the story I realized that it needed a lot of new scenes to build up my character interactions. These were hard to write though, so now when I come to particularly difficult scenes, I outline them and it helps me avoid getting writer’s block.

I’d only need two or three drafts.

I read in a murder mystery recently about a minor character who’d been working on her novel for ten years. The main character thinks to herself that the manuscript is probably unreadable and should be scrapped as it can’t possibly be salvaged. For better or for worse, that stuck with me as I began my first novel. I’ve been scared of overcomplicating things and taking too long to write it, so I thought I’d give myself a limit of three drafts and two years to finish this story.

What actually happened:

My first draft included the skeleton of the plot, it has all of the characters and their relationships, as well as the setting. It’s the bare bones of everything. In my second draft, I’m focusing on the characters. In the third draft, I plan to add the findings from my research and strengthen the plot. Now I know that I’ll most likely need a fourth draft for restructuring and fixing continuity errors, and a fifth one for true editing and finishing touches. Those numbers are the minimum. This is my first big project and even if it fails, it will teach me so much about myself and my process, so I don’t need to limit myself with this. I need to breathe and figure out how I do things.

I thought that real writers always push past writer’s block.

…

What actually happened:

I’ve discovered that for me, it is beneficial when I get stuck to step back from my work. Sometimes I give myself a few minutes, a few hours, a few days to work on a problem. I might write a scene outline, I might talk through that scene with my sister. I might delete what I’ve written and start again. And sometimes, I truly disconnect and do laundry, cook, or handle business. In the end, I sit down and write the worst version. After it’s written, I feel better about it, and I can move on. That’s my editor’s problem in a few months. (I’m my editor.)

I expected people to care more…

Some writers find or build support systems, or writing groups, or other things of that nature.

What actually happened:

I don’t know how to do that yet, I haven’t yet, and while my family and friends are very supportive and loving about my stories, most people don’t want to hear the broken-sentence-synopsis of a book that doesn’t exist yet. The author is the only person that has all the miniscule details in their mind, so asking others their opinion of them won’t usually help you. Even if you want to include others, they’ll likely be busy with their own lives and it’s easy to feel isolated. Spend time with those you love, do your work and practice your hobbies, but remember that it’s okay; you’re writing because you have a story to tell, or want to explore your personhood, or you just want to say you’re a writer. It’s alright that a good bit of it happens alone. Keep going.

Those are the notions that have been challenged so far, I hope they can be helpful to you in your writing! What I wanted to say about the future of this section is this: I love art, it was my favorite creative outlet before writing, and the two are probably equally important to me now. Within the next year, I plan to release far more posts about art (painting, drawing, sketching, the creative process, etc.) that I have been able to thus far. For now, there will be more posts about writing. I’m excited about what the future holds!

Until next time,

–Mabel