New Stuff Coming!

We've been frantically working on new stuff to add to the store. See pictures. These have been a labor of love. They just look so amazing, so light and fresh. SWEET! We'll have them up in the store in a week or so. We just need to add some finishing touches and firm up construction. Hope you like them!

shanda

ruby & myrtle

My hip, cool guy...

Walden just got a new tee from a lovely etsy artist. She custom made the tee especially for our man, Walden and did a roller skate tee for Gable (aka miss myrtle)

Visit her cool stuff at:

http://www.vital.etsy.com

Matilda's Story

The loud clanging of the cowbell hanging from a hair ribbon deep in ruby’s favorite blueberry bush, signaled the girls that one of their tea party guests had arrived.

Of course, Matilda never had to ring the bell. You knew Matilda was on her way long before she made it to the berry bushes. You see, Matilda never walked, jumped, skipped, or moved in any way without whistling one of her favorite cowboy tunes.

She had been partial to singing her favorite melodies, but many of her neighbors had asked her to stop, given that she was often singing in the wrong key, and at a volume, eight decibels higher than the town’s tornado alarm. Her whistle was tolerable to most and had been found by the town's gardeners to be more helpful than their scarecrows in keeping the blackbirds at bay.

As she got closer, you’d see her head bobbing over the seven foot sunflower hedge still whistling her heart out atop her best friend, Petunia.

Petunia was a bit of an anomaly. Matilda's family had submitted her for consideration to the Guiness people for being the largest dwarf Shetland pony ever born. However, as of late June, there had been no word from the record people. She was six foot, if she was an inch, and this was just right given Matilda was the littlest bit of nothing you’d ever seen.

Due to her size, Matilda was forced to drag her Daddy’s step ladder behind her everywhere she went on Petunia. Once, when the ladder had been unavailable on account of a family roofing project, the tea party gang had been coaxed into following Matilda around all day and stacking themselves one atop each other, as needed for mounting or dismounting. After that day, Cleo had been assigned to head up the Matilda Jane Charity Step Ladder Fund. To date, two-dollars and seventy-seven cents have been raised.

Matilda, a girl of six, spoke with an Australian accent (considered strange by most because Matilda had never been anywhere near Australia) and was often seen about town wearing her brother Gerald’s brown leather cowboy boots, an enormous tu-tu held on by a large buckled cowboy belt, and pinwheels in her ponytails that moved gently in the breeze as she walked.

Matilda's pinwheel

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=5528396

Agatha's Story

Agatha had been coming to ruby and myrtle’s wild tea parties since her ten-foot, 200 pound pet pink snake, Ramon had slithered through the sunflower hedge into ruby’s backyard. He'd gotten cornered by myrtle’s hound dog, Squat, underneath the giant Buddha. It had taken the tea party guests two chocolate bars, three pounds of Danish cheese and over an hour to coax him out. Which was no small feet given Ramon’s sensitivity to small crowds of shouting, squealing little girls.

“Hi, my name is Agatha Percy Meriwether. I’m five years old and I despise squash….and I mean, DESPISE. I refuse to even make conversation with it when visiting the market…and on most occasions, I just love chatting with the vegetables in the produce section, “Agatha proclaimed as she twirled her board-straight, chocolate brown hair.

“This is my pet snake Ramon. He loves squash....which as you can imagine has made our relationship very difficult over the last few months.”

Agatha was not a slight child. She was, “just perfectly, wonderfully right,” her Mama always said. She refused to wear anything colored green, loved leg warmers (and wore them through every season), carried her magic wand (a present from her Auntie) everywhere she went, and never left home without her purple polka dotted rain boots.

Every morning, Agatha, hot-footed it out to her Mama’s hothouse before the sun came up to pick one of the blooming clematis flowers for her hair. She’d shown up that first afternoon with a beautiful, fuchsia number plopped on the top of her noggin. That’s how the girls knew she was perfect tea party material.

Agatha's clematis

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=5512630