|Thirteen Things about MissMeliss Thirteen Things that Begin with “F”
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders’ legs,
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
The traces of the smallest spider’s web,
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams,
Her whip of cricket’s bone, the lash of film,
Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not so big as a round little worm
Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;
O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on court’sies straight,
O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees,
O’er ladies ‘ lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail
Tickling a parson’s nose as a’ lies asleep,
Then dreams, he of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage:
This is she—
Romeo and Juliet – Mercutio Describing Queen Mab
- Fall My favorite season, with crisp temperatures, crunchy leaves, and the anticipation of winter evenings.
- Family Even when they drive you crazy, they still love you unconditionally.
- Fedoras Quite possibly the perfect hat, and wearing one can make you a journalist or a spy, or just really, really stylish.
- Fennel Chopped up in pasta sauce, it gives an extra kick. It may look like celery, but it has the kick of anise or licorice. Definitely an acquired taste.
- Festivals I like country fairs but I love festivals, and it doesn’t matter if they’re celebrating arts and crafts, improvisational theater, or pumpkins. They’re always fun, and often filled with hokey charm.
- Fiction Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere. — Carl Sagan
- Flames Whether they’re crackling in a fireplace, flickering at the top of a candle, broiling the perfect burger, or coming out of one of those tiny kitchen torches used for caramelizing sugar, flame is magic.
- Flowers I love flowers. I have vases in the breakfast nook, living room, and on my office, and I’m constantly refilling them. Fuzzy is even in on it – he brings me bouquets every time he goes to the grocery store.
- Fog It softens the edges of the world, and makes mystery out of the mundane. It’s the perfect inspiration for someone with an over-active imagination.
- Footwear I like shoes, and boots, yes, but I also like funky tights and seasonal socks. Pretty much ALL footwear, really. Even galoshes.
- France I really believe part of my soul originated in Paris in the 20’s. Or at least spent some time there. But I love other parts of France, as well – Languedoc, Carcassone, Nice. MUST get back there soon.
- Friends I am lucky to have diverse friends who provoke, inspire, support, edit, listen, and amuse.