Novelist. Writer. Photographer. Lover of fast cars, Jeeping, books, corvidae, tea, archaeology, mysteries, sci fi, fantasy & sparkly things.
Pacific Northwest, USA
Joined March 2009
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Farewell to my little buddy.
Fenrir the Mighty, Kitten of Destruction, Lover of Catnip and Foil Balls
2008- 28 December 2025
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
Are you even human if you don't have a good deep sniff of a Sharpie before writing with it.
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
Love isn’t proven by grand gestures or perfect timing. It’s proven by choosing the same person when life gives you every excuse not to. It’s the quiet courage to stay, to return, to rise after distance and doubt.
The greatest love story Tolkien ever wrote lived in two ordinary lives, stitched together over 55 years, carved today into two gravestones in Oxford.
Before hobbits and rings and distant wars, there was a quiet boy named Ronald and a lonely girl named Edith. Two orphans who found warmth in each other’s company, tossing sugar cubes across a teashop table, laughing like the world finally made sense.
They were torn apart by rules, religion, distance, and even war. For three years they weren’t allowed to speak. She accepted another man’s proposal. He was shipped into the Somme. Friends died around him. Life tried, again and again, to break what they had.
But every time the world pulled them apart, they found their way back. Edith broke off her engagement. She converted even though it cost her friendships. He wrote her letters from the trenches. She cared for him when he returned sick and shaken. Their love kept choosing, kept enduring, kept showing up.
And decades later, when Tolkien wrote about Beren and Lúthien, the mortal man and the immortal maiden who would cross death itself for each other, he wasn’t imagining anything. He was remembering a girl who once danced for him in a sunlit glade, and the life they built out of loyalty and stubborn devotion.
When Edith died, he carved her name as Lúthien. When he died, they carved him as Beren. Two names side by side. A private myth.
Fantasy worlds are filled with magic, but the real world has its own where ordinary people refuse to give up on each other.
That’s the kind of love Tolkien believed in. Not a fairy tale. A commitment that survives the long road.
ALT Grave of Edith and J. R. R. Tolkien. Photo credits: CC BY-SA 3.0
Good morning Comic Con Denmark! Stop by for books, including a Comic Con Denmark exclusive! Also sparkly things!
View from the window of the AC Bella Sky Hotel in Copenhagen. Getting ready for Comic Con Denmark! If you're attending, stop by my table!
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
When Ray Bradbury said, “Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds,” and “Look closely at everything. Don’t be a snob. Be joyful; writing is not a serious business—it’s a celebration,” he had it exactly right.
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
“Human beings need art, music, poetry, wonder; we need space to dream and create … we need tools and training to analyze, think critically, and read deeply. Above all, we need to feed our soul by reclaiming our curiosity about the world and its beauty.” —@wren_and_paper
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
Spending too much time online will have catastrophic effects on your mental & emotional health. You need to be taking walks and talking to other people. You need to feel grass under your feet and wind on your face. You were made to live an embodied life.
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
I think we under-estimate how many people are miserable because they have no enthusiasms, no hobbies, because they gave up reading and quit learning when school ended. It's shocking how much studying a beloved subject elevates your mood. It will transform your life.
It's International Archaeology Day! Happy digging! The best way to celebrate? Read an archaeological mystery! amazon.com/Death-Hades-Wells…
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.” —George Eliot, private notebooks, October 01, 1841
Muffy Morrigan retweeted
Rest in peace, Patricia Routledge 🙏🏻
In memory of her, I encourage everyone to read these words of hers from February last year.
Whether young or old, you're bound to get something out of it.
*****
"I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.
My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.
At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.
At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.
At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.
At 80, I took up watercolour painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.
I’m writing this to tell you something simple:
Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.
Let these years ahead be your TREASURE YEARS.
You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.
You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.
With love and gentleness,
Patricia Routledge
*****
Once more, rest in peace. 🤍
