The Magic that started it all.

In the gentle embrace of 1994, my life was forever changed with the arrival of my daughter. From the very moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was a creature of extraordinary charm—an embodiment of enchantment with the biggest, most adorable eyes that sparkled with wonder. We affectionately dubbed her our little 'faerie', for she seemed to float through life, spreading joy and magic wherever she went.

As a child, she would dance and sing in the yard, her laughter mingling with the breeze, as if the world itself had paused to watch this delightful spectacle. My cuddly baby was not just a daughter; she was the spark igniting the fire of creativity in me, inspiring what I would come to call our 'faedorable adventure.'

Every outing transformed into a grand occasion, and everywhere we ventured, she drew attention. People couldn't help but be captivated by her presence—the way her spirit shimmered in the sunlight, as if she were a living embodiment of the fae we had read about in the stories of old. She was, undeniably, faedorable.

Reflecting on my own heritage, I recognized the threads of English, Irish, Scottish, and French ancestry woven into my being, which had blessed me with a childhood rich in tales of magic and folklore. It was from these roots that I found the voice to tell our story, though, in my early schooling days under the gaze of Catholic authority, much of that whimsy was clouded over by the weight of solemnity and reverence.

As a young mother, I embraced that sense of wonder. Our home became a canvas of imagination, and I saw each room as a potential canvas to create the fantastical. I transformed her bedroom into a space straight out of a fairy tale—designing radiant faerie castles where dreams took flight. I carefully crafted her four-poster iron bed shroud, draping it in soft fabrics, evoking the ethereal nature of the realms we dreamt of.

By the time school days began, our weekends became filled with crafts and creative explorations. Together, we crafted wings made from fencing wire, adorned with ribbons and glitter that caught the light and let our dreams take flight. We constructed magical wands that gleamed with promise, and we designed crowns for her to be the faedorable princess of her own enchanted kingdom.

This journey of imagination, filled with colorful adventures and discoveries, shaped not only her childhood but my work as well, intertwining our lives like the delicate threads of a spider’s web, sparkling with magic and glistening with morning dew. It was more than just crafting and storytelling; it was about creating a world where our spirits could soar. As the years went by, I watched in awe as she grew, always holding onto that sense of wonder and imagination.

Our faedorable adventures evolved, always reflecting the profound bond between a mother and daughter, grounded in shared dreams. Each magical moment we crafted remained a treasured chapter in the ongoing fairy tale of our lives—a reminder that the spirit of the faerie never truly leaves us, as long as we choose to believe in the delight of imagination and love, the forces that truly make life faedorable.