I have always like the idea of tiny. I adore minatures and doll houses, wee things in little boxes, tiny tins and the such. There is something almost childlike in the tiny. I read a beautiful story about Tasha Tudor the well known artist who used to have an on going game with her children as they grew up in a rural setting. They would make tiny minature letters and envelopes and post them in a knot hole of the tree near their home. Till today she has a collection of about 20 wee letters in the smallest handwriting - addressed with tiny stamps and all- letters written to the birds and beasts. I am facinated by such a notion. Delighted by the innocence.
The other day as I sat and sewed and mulled over the events of the recent days - I was thinking about tiny things for a next project. I loved seeing the work of "matchbox stuffers" and woud love to do something like that soon. My heart was heavy and deeply saddened - trying to muster up the courage and strength to pack to leave our beautiful space here. I watched my chickens outside my window and decided that I would go and collect their eggs..To my utter delight I found among the eggs laid a special tiny one. It looked so precious laying there in the warm straw of the nest. Greg tells me that is the first egg after the hens have gone broody- someone has decided to lay again and the first egg though tiny was a promise of more to come.
That stuck a chord with me. Even tiny things can over time grow into something hopeful. I saved that tiny egg and set is aside. We both need a little hope now..a little faith that tomorrow will be good.