Christmas present...

...stop press!! my lovely friend Linda has just emailed me to say her Siamese cat Florence has had FIVE Christmas kittens this afternoon - now that's what I call a Christmas present!

Wintry poems...

I shared a couple of my favourite poems the other day and I was inspired to add some images to them...

The image below came via Greige interiors website which I follow and love...

hope you enjoy...

Oh Christmas Tree....

...now I have a blog I have a chance to share my Christmas tree with others! I always have a white dove at the top and, although you can never see him, nestled inside the branches is a tiny white cherub which is all I have left of my childhood Christmas ornaments. One of my very few Christmas traditions is to always make sure he is near the top of the tree. The little sign says 'may your Christmas be bright and full of delight' and Father Christmas is at the base of the tree...

...and just because I love vintage, here is a sepia version of the photo....

Merry Christmas one and all!

I love this time of year...

...I know it's easy to get fed up with the cold/rain/wind etc but I love the fact that the world is slowing down and going to sleep ready for next Spring. It reminds me to slow down too and notice what's around me. The other day I drove through the woods and saw herds of beautiful deer cropping the frosty grass and, in the midst of them, a fox trotting along purposefully. I love living in the country and seeing the seasons change - it feeds the soul...

Here are two of my favourite poems which make me think of walking in the woods at this time:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

BY ROBERT FROST

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost

keep warm!