Birth of a Mosserrarium

And then I made two more.

That's just how I am.  Something grabs me, and I become a complete maniac, forgoing food, sleep, drink, everything in favor of the creative pursuit that is [obviously] the most important thing in my entire life [right at that second].  The only reason I stopped this afternoon was that I ran out of appropriate containers (I was faced with either eating an entire jar of pickles or stepping back and resuming breathing.  I chose breath - but not because I don't like a good kosher dill!).  I think the entire neighborhood must think I'm a nut job.  

"There goes that tall girl again, always digging around in other people's yards, dragging home sticks and containers of dirt, scooping up moss with her big metal spoon, squatting on the sidewalk looking at dead birds, wearing crazy outfits and talking to the chipmunks."

But really.  The idea of making terrariums has been kicking around my head for the past three years or so - from an early issue of Domino Magazine featuring "alternative" house plants (although I do think that some of my neighbors think all that).  And sometime over the Summer, terrarium making exploded on Etsy; you can't click on the front page more than once in any given day without a mossy little bundle staring you in the face. Finally (like I really needed anymore encouragement) I had a chat with a certain boisterous little bird whose love for her own little climate-controlled garden convinced me I could wait no longer.  The rest, well, you've already seen it. 

BC better watch out.  

And eat some more pickles.

Tweetle-dee my mossy little friends!

Umber