My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and stopping to thank the roses....

Oh, there were days when her Moroccan basket did not seem so full.

Days when she peered into the basket and only a few blooms peered back at her. 

But there was no easy shortcut.

Each flower had to be picked one by one; it was the only way. 

It was best to approach the task with curiosity and enthusiasm.

 And to see the beauty in the picking. 

 And with hard work -- after braving thorns and even swarms of bees -- perhaps she would see this.....

 But in the mean time, she was busy giving thanks for each and every blossom.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Marrakech: and one word after another........

At a tucked away place  not far from Marrakech, she had been writing on deadline. From very early in the morning….until very late at night.

Her Moroccan days looked something like this:

A cup of coffee.
Write, write, write. 

A visit from a friend.

Write, write, write.

Moroccan Lunch.

Write, write, write.

Another cup of coffee.

Sigh, write, write, write. 

Moroccan Dinner.

____, ____, ____. (Fill in the blank, Oh Clever One)

A fire

Yawn, write, write, write.

Bed.

Whose idea was this writing-for-a-living-business, anyway?:)

Marrakech's Peacock Pavilions: and guesthouse dreams from distant places....

Oh, she knew that her rooms were not furnished.
Oh, she knew that her pool was not tiled.
Oh, she knew that her landscaping was not done.
Oh she knew that her wallet was not full.

Oh she knew, and she knew, and she knew............

But somehow, she couldn't stop herself from thinking
about beautiful breakfasts on Peacock Pavilion's rooftop
when the day was still fresh
and everything.... yes, everything...

still possible.....

Hope is the thing with peacock feathers.....

***************

Do check out the sweet gypsy girl's blog for a special sale and give away......

Marrakech: and the winner (oh, filled with grace) is..........

Oh dear, whatever had she done.......
Whatever was she thinking....?
She was really rather in a pickle....
Because instead of  355 winners to celebrate one million visitors to this little Moroccan blog.........

she only had one:-(

But mark these words.....
If ever, through some incredible occurrence, this blogging girl were to become...
ahem, rich and famous....
Say, a long lost uncle (after a remarkably healthy life filled with large quantities of laughter) were to depart this earth and leave all his worldly possessions to his niece in a Moroccan olive grove to whom he felt a strange and extraordinary connection, although he never quite managed to contact her (clearing of throat, you get the picture)   ........why then, each and every one of you would be getting a special little something. 

But for now........Graciel, please step up to the plate.....

A little beauty therapy for you.............

A vintage Moroccan incense burner, dated to approximately 1950.  14 inches tall, 8 inches wide.  Undoubtedly used during romantic liaisons behind tall walls somewhere deep, deep in the Marrakech medina............

Attached, an Egyptian scarab, word wishes and a small feather from Peacock Pavilions to bring extra barakah.  Meant for keeping on the coffee table or nightstand to call forth some romantic liaisons of your very own........