#muskoka room

[twittercriterion]

Large Sun Room in Toronto Large mountain style sunroom photo with a standard ceiling

[fomikrai]

Rustic Sunroom in Toronto a sizable image of a sunroom in the mountains with a typical ceiling

[abstraxx]

Deck Uncovered picture of a large backyard deck in the mountains without a cover

[asksailorponies]

Traditional Sunroom Toronto

Sunroom - large traditional sunroom design with a beige floor and a slate floor.

[makeupasmydrug]

Garage - Traditional Garage Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless detached two-car carport remodel

[marca-espana]

Deck Uncovered

picture of a large backyard deck in the mountains without a cover

[fostersgifs]

Toronto Sun Room a sizable image of a sunroom in the mountains with a typical ceiling

[cheahup]

Front Yard in Toronto Idea for a sizable, traditional tiled porch in the front with a roof extension

[ello-meno-p]

Rustic Deck in Toronto Large mountain style backyard deck photo with no cover

[thehealingroommuskoka]

The Rose Quartz Sphere from the Healing Room Muskoka is a beautifully polished stone, renowned for its gentle pink hue. It is a symbol of universal love and is often used to promote self-love, friendship, and inner healing. The sphere shape of the rose quartz stone is believed to emit energy equally in all directions, enhancing its calming and reassuring properties.

[elainehill]

Sun Room Large in Toronto Sunroom - large traditional slate floor and beige floor sunroom idea with a standard ceiling

[glennkotche]

Toronto Porch Idea for a sizable, traditional tiled porch in the front with a roof extension

[silvabrylee]

Sun Room Large in Toronto Sunroom - large traditional slate floor and beige floor sunroom idea with a standard ceiling

[kosslowski]

Loft-Style Toronto Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless loft-style brown floor family room remodel with white walls and a wood stove

[killstiles]

Teen - Southwestern Kids

[blekitnyzamek]

Illustrations from "Blue Castle"

In Poland we have 5 translations of "Blue Castle" (and in the 1st one Valancy is not named Valancy but Joanna (Joanne); and I think it's funny enough to dedicate separate post about that in the future) and one of them has such a magical illustrations, that I need to share them <3

All of them are from this edition of "The Blue Castle"/"Błękitny zamek" (which was translated by Jolanta Bartosik) and were drawn by Katarzyna Karina Chmiel. Cover too, just look at it! I love this artstyle.

I will add quotes adjacent to the illustrations above them. That one is on title-page, gorgeous<3

Valancy went home by the short-cut of Lover’s Lane. She did not often go through Lover’s Lane—but it was getting near supper-time and it would never do to be late. Lover’s Lane wound back of the village, under great elms and maples, and deserved its name. It was hard to go there at any time and not find some canoodling couple—or young girls in pairs, arms intertwined, earnestly talking over their little secrets. Valancy didn’t know which made her feel more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

She [Valancy] had flatly refused to take either Purple Pills or Redfern’s Bitters. She had announced coolly that she did not intend to answer to the name of “Doss” any longer. She had told Cousin Stickles that she wished she would give up wearing that brooch with Cousin Artemas Stickles’ hair in it. She had moved her bed in her room to the opposite corner. She had read Magic of Wings Sunday afternoon. When Cousin Stickles had rebuked her Valancy had said indifferently, “Oh, I forgot it was Sunday”—and had gone on reading it.

Cousin Stickles had seen a terrible thing—she had caught Valancy sliding down the bannister. Cousin Stickles did not tell Mrs. Frederick this—poor Amelia was worried enough as it was.

Valancy had walked out to Roaring Abel’s house on the Mistawis road under a sky of purple and amber, with a queer exhilaration and expectancy in her heart. Back there, behind her, her mother and Cousin Stickles were crying—over themselves, not over her. But here the wind was in her face, soft, dew-wet, cool, blowing along the grassy roads. Oh, she loved the wind! The robins were whistling sleepily in the firs along the way and the moist air was fragrant with the tang of balsam. Big cars went purring past in the violet dusk—the stream of summer tourists to Muskoka had already begun—but Valancy did not envy any of their occupants. Muskoka cottages might be charming, but beyond, in the sunset skies, among the spires of the firs, her Blue Castle towered. She brushed the old years and habits and inhibitions away from her like dead leaves. She would not be littered with them.

“We’ll just sit here,” said Barney, “and if we think of anything worth while saying we’ll say it. Otherwise, not. Don’t imagine you’re bound to talk to me.”

“John Foster says,” quoted Valancy, “‘If you can sit in silence with a person for half an hour and yet be entirely comfortable, you and that person can be friends. If you cannot, friends you’ll never be and you need not waste time in trying.’”

“Evidently John Foster says a sensible thing once in a while,” conceded Barney.

“There’s our island,” he said gloatingly.

Valancy looked—and looked—and looked again. There was a diaphanous, lilac mist on the lake, shrouding the island. Through it the two enormous pine-trees that clasped hands over Barney’s shack loomed out like dark turrets. Behind them was a sky still rose-hued in the afterlight, and a pale young moon.

Valancy shivered like a tree the wind stirs suddenly. Something seemed to sweep over her soul.

“My Blue Castle!” she said. “Oh, my Blue Castle!”

Valancy and Barney turned under the mainland pines in the cool dusk of the September night for a farewell look at the Blue Castle. Mistawis was drowned in sunset lilac light, incredibly delicate and elusive. Nip and Tuck were cawing lazily in the old pines. Good Luck and Banjo were mewed and mewing in separate baskets in Barney’s new, dark-green car en route to Cousin Georgiana’s.