Welcome to our tent - may I read the future from your hand, or do you desire to talk to the ghosts?
Originally, I had intended to spend the day making chocolate (we did that, too), but when I woke up, I felt like I needed to do this. Like we really needed a fortune telling tent in our living room.
That was an opinion my children wildly agreed with.
See, the girls and I are currently reading "A great and terrible Beauty" by Lybba Bray, and there´s this tent made of scarves one of the protagonists built for her and her friends. Also, there´s a fortune telling lady who has, of course, a tent.
Then, Tim´s been reading Harry Potter to the boys, and by now, they are aquainted with Sybil Trewlawney, so they wondered a lot about this weired fortune telling. Can it work? Are there really people who believe in it? And why? It´s certainly a fascinating topic, and during one dinner, I confessed to them how I always manipulated the Ouja-board when I was a teenager, even back then in love with story telling - and that´s what it is, isn´t it? Good story telling, enjoyable for the customer.
And, finally, I´ve started reading "The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern, a book, in which magic, illusions and tents also play a significant role.
So, yeah, we needed a fortune telling tent.
I remembered we had this old hoola hoop somewhere rotting in the garden, and I got Ronnie to get it.
Then, Mehmet and Miro measured strings of equal length, and enjoyed knotting them to the hoop:
Luckily, there´s a hook in our cealing allready, for the swing that´s usually attached there. We removed the swing, and tied the strings to the hook.
I still had a great deal of organza laying around - I recently needed it for the veils I made with my girls.
Now Miro got it out of the cellar again:
So we tore it to strips and knotted it to the hoop. We also got all scarves we could find in the house, and all the flimsy fabric scraps we could find, and knotted those to the hoop, too.
Then, in the cellar, we found Eva´s old mosquito/princess net, and our tent began taking shape:
The boys, who had happily found the Howarts robes I made, ages ago, gave it a first trial run:
Yeah!
There was quite a lot of Expelliarmus and Lumos involved, lemme tell you. And "Lumos" I could have needed, so my pictures wouldn´t be so incredibly crappy.
The tent improved (though also darkened) a lot when we found the old kitchen curtains in our cellar:
And then we added accesoires, like...
...Tim´s Djembe, an old treasure chest we found on the waste that now contains magical artefacts like my souvenir coin collections, old harddrives, and belive it or not, a tighlty sealed old tooth from me I could not part with, and...
...we made the sign, from an old piece of scrapwood and black chalkboard foil I had sitting in my kitchen for more than two years.
And then we played.
I told all my kids their future from their hands, wildly imprpvising which line is which, since I know nothing about the matter, and never really cared. I pointed to specific lines and told them about how they represent they´ll lead long and happy lives, becoming pilots, astronauts and famous authors and give me tons of grandchildren.
Also, I let them "talk to the ghosts" - never before did I realize what excellent reading practice an Ouja-board makes? I made up girls from the middle ages and old fishermen, and figured out life stories for them. They all agreed that life after death is pretty boring, and that one should better enjoy life on earth as much as possible while still residing here.
At one point, Miro looked at me and whispered "Is this real?", and I whispered back "No, of course it isn´t, but isn´t it nice just to pretend it was?"
Eva and Ronja then spent a lot of time in the tent "talking to ghosts" themselves, each taking turns manipulating the glass - telling each other which boy they´ll marry and giggling immensely, and we read our goodnight story in the tent, too.
So... music? Something appropriate?
Imagine this song, in a dimmed, warm, stuffed tent, while getting your fortune read:
Lovely, isn´t it?
Originally, I had intended to spend the day making chocolate (we did that, too), but when I woke up, I felt like I needed to do this. Like we really needed a fortune telling tent in our living room.
That was an opinion my children wildly agreed with.
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| (source: amazon) |
Then, Tim´s been reading Harry Potter to the boys, and by now, they are aquainted with Sybil Trewlawney, so they wondered a lot about this weired fortune telling. Can it work? Are there really people who believe in it? And why? It´s certainly a fascinating topic, and during one dinner, I confessed to them how I always manipulated the Ouja-board when I was a teenager, even back then in love with story telling - and that´s what it is, isn´t it? Good story telling, enjoyable for the customer.
And, finally, I´ve started reading "The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern, a book, in which magic, illusions and tents also play a significant role.
So, yeah, we needed a fortune telling tent.
I remembered we had this old hoola hoop somewhere rotting in the garden, and I got Ronnie to get it.
Then, Mehmet and Miro measured strings of equal length, and enjoyed knotting them to the hoop:
Luckily, there´s a hook in our cealing allready, for the swing that´s usually attached there. We removed the swing, and tied the strings to the hook.
I still had a great deal of organza laying around - I recently needed it for the veils I made with my girls.
Now Miro got it out of the cellar again:
Then, in the cellar, we found Eva´s old mosquito/princess net, and our tent began taking shape:
There was quite a lot of Expelliarmus and Lumos involved, lemme tell you. And "Lumos" I could have needed, so my pictures wouldn´t be so incredibly crappy.
The tent improved (though also darkened) a lot when we found the old kitchen curtains in our cellar:
And then we played.
I told all my kids their future from their hands, wildly imprpvising which line is which, since I know nothing about the matter, and never really cared. I pointed to specific lines and told them about how they represent they´ll lead long and happy lives, becoming pilots, astronauts and famous authors and give me tons of grandchildren.
Also, I let them "talk to the ghosts" - never before did I realize what excellent reading practice an Ouja-board makes? I made up girls from the middle ages and old fishermen, and figured out life stories for them. They all agreed that life after death is pretty boring, and that one should better enjoy life on earth as much as possible while still residing here.
At one point, Miro looked at me and whispered "Is this real?", and I whispered back "No, of course it isn´t, but isn´t it nice just to pretend it was?"
Eva and Ronja then spent a lot of time in the tent "talking to ghosts" themselves, each taking turns manipulating the glass - telling each other which boy they´ll marry and giggling immensely, and we read our goodnight story in the tent, too.
So... music? Something appropriate?
Imagine this song, in a dimmed, warm, stuffed tent, while getting your fortune read:
Lovely, isn´t it?
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