Friday, February 16, 2018

All Change



We warmed to an incredible 77degrees yesterday, matching the highest recorded temperature on record for this date in February.
I tidied around the garden and fiddled in the potting shed, my to-do list seems endless before putting winter to rest for another season.
After a gloriously warm and sunshiny day, today it's back to rain, dark and dreary.
A cozy day to enjoy inside.
Wishing you peace, in whatever little corner of the world, you call home......


Thursday, February 15, 2018

Batten Down The Hatches

The wind is blowing a gale.
Birds are literally flying sideways.
Each time I look out of the window, the windmill is turning a hundred miles an hour, if only I knew how to convert that energy into electricity, my utilities would be free for a month !
It's a balmy 74 degrees today, in February, we are headed for a night of thunderstorms, and more wind.
And it's not even March.
 

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

With Love From Me To You

 
💛
 
" The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.".
Eden Ahbez "Nature Boy"
 
 




May your Valentine's Day be special !

((Hugs))
x

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Returning

Two days of continuous rainfall, water standing ankle-deep, I'm beginning to think a pair of webbed-feet would be fitting.
Temperatures are unseasonably warm, and will remain so throughout the week.
There are shoots popping out of the ground everywhere, which is a little discerning, since we are still in the depths of winter, and snow is still a possibility.
I think Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor.
Row, row, row your boat......
 
 

 




 

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Thoughts Of Home



The Manor Farm
 
 
The rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills
Ran and sparkled down each side of the road
Under the catkins wagging in the hedge.
But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun;
Nor did I value that thin glilding beam
More than a pretty February thing
Till I came down to the old Manor Farm,
And church and yew-tree opposite, in age
Its equals and in size. The church and yew
And farmhouse slept in a Sunday silentness.
The air raised not a straw. The steep farm roof,
With tiles duskily glowing, entertained
The mid-day sun; and up and down the roof
White pigeons nestled. There was no sound but one.
Three cart-horses were looking over a gate
Drowsily through their forelocks, swishing their tails
Against a fly, a solitary fly.
The Winter's cheek flushed as if he had drained
Spring, Summer, and Autumn at a draught
And smiled quietly. But 'twas not Winter—
Rather a season of bliss unchangeable
Awakened from farm and church where it had lain
Safe under tile and thatch for ages since
This England, Old already, was called Merry.


Edward Thomas 1878
 
 

Monday, February 5, 2018

Me And My Shadow



Tom-Tilly spends most of her day shadowing Oliver, even when he's sleeping. We are convinced she has imprinted on Oliver as her mother, especially as she was such a tiny little kitten when she first appeared from living beneath my potting shed.
It makes us smile, despite Oliver's lack of reciprocation, he knows he's loved, and allows her to eat from the food bowl first.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

News From Gobbler's Knob



 
It appears that winter is not yet over, according to the legendary groundhog Punxsutawney Phil.
Six more weeks and hopefully we'll be well on our way to warmer days and blue skies.

Yesterday I noticed how many birds had reappeared from their Winter nests, chirping and busying themselves about the landscape, the milder weather had stirred their feathered souls.

Today, they are silenced once again.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Comfort Food

 
 


Today is a typical dark and dreary start to February, there's not a ray of sunshine in the sky.

I'm making a Shepherd's Pie for supper to cheer ourselves up.
A concoction of ground beef, onions, carrots, and peas cooked in a beef gravy and tomato sauce, with herbs and spices; then topped off with mashed potatoes and browned in the oven until the potatoes are nice and crusty.

I buy the Colman Shepherd's Pie mix, available through Publix grocery stores, on the English import isle.
If it's not on hand, then the gravy part is made with oxo's or beef bouillon cubes and tomato paste, rosemary, thyme, garlic, and parsley.

 


 
Shepherd's Pie was the first meal I cooked  as a newly wed , it remains one of my husband's  favorites to this day.
It will be accompanied by boiled cabbage, mashed it with lots of butter, and fresh pepper, that's how my mum used to serve it.
Serve with a slice of pickled beetroot or a few pickled onions on the side, and a nice crusty loaf of bread.
Yum.

 

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Winter Moon



 
 
Brightly the moon like a jewel is beaming,
White in the east, o'er a lone landscape gleaming,
Over the meadows and over the snow,
Glimmering, shimmering, silvery glow.

Low in the east, when the gloaming is ending,
Slowly this white winter moon is ascending,
Looming so large and appearing so nigh,
Satellite framed by a star-spangled sky.

High in the sky, with soft radiance teeming,
Nigh to the time when men, women, are dreaming,
Weird is her splendor on valley and hill,
Cold is her gleam upon river and rill.

Brightly the moon like a jewel is shining,
White in the west she is slowly declining,
Beautiful Moon ! Which beams gorgeous and grand
Over the homes of our own Native Land.

~Charles Nevers Holmes. 1926.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Purr-fect

 
 
This beautiful sweet face belongs to my granddaughter's cat, Cooper.
I've introduced you to him before, you wouldn't know by looking at him, but he's a senior citizen, closing in on seventeen years old.
He's a spoilt kitty, but who could resist.
 
>^..^< 
 

Monday, January 29, 2018

Tea-Sipping Day

There are whispers of the "s" word in the forecast, just when the sunshine has returned, and I'm noticing green shoots popping up all over the garden.
I hope the weather-forecasters have missed the mark on this one.
 
I'm pretty certain the cats have got spring-fever, they have been running around the house and having a mad half-hour,  more than usual, destroying their furry mice and insisting on hiding beneath the dining room rug, and pretending not to be noticed, except for two obvious big lumps .
It's a day of list-making and tea-sipping for me, tomorrow more errand running.
Hope all is well, in your little corner of the world.
 
 

Friday, January 26, 2018

Longing For Spring

I think I'm suffering from cabin fever.
Yesterday, I ran a few errands, and took a nice long drive through the country roads to the post office in the next town.
Despite not visiting there since before Christmas, people remember my name, it's a lovely and welcoming feeling.
I wish Spring would hurry this way, sunshine, warm soil and longer days, I'm looking forward them all.
 
 



Monday, January 22, 2018

Rain-Soaked

We are deluged with cold rain today.
The turkeys are out scratching through the wet soil.
Unfazed and happy.


Saturday, January 20, 2018

Contentment

Sunshine has returned, and the last of the lingering snow is now melting.
I was content to sit and watch the falling snow from a window view.
There were days in my working years, when I wasn't afforded such luxury.
Oliver cat and Tom-Tilly are happy to once again bask in the afternoon sun, their little world as they know it, returned to normal. 
 
 

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

The Old Barn

The nesting season is upon us.
People and animals alike, hunkered down against the elements that Mother Nature throws our way throughout the next few months.
A warm barn, always a welcoming  privilege, to those creatures great and small.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Tons upon tons the brown-green fragrant hay
O'erbrims the mows beyond the time-warped eaves,
Up to the rafters where the spider weaves,
Though few flies wander his secluded way.
Through a high chink one lonely golden ray,
Wherein the dust is dancing, slants unstirred.
In the dry hush some rustlings light are heard,
Of winter-hidden mice at furtive play.

Far down, the cattle in their shadowed stalls,
Nose-deep in clover fodder's meadowy scent,
Forget the snows that whelm their pasture streams,
The frost that bites the world beyond their walls.
Warm housed, they dream of summer, well content
In day-long contemplation of their dreams.
 
                 Sir Charles GD Roberts                        
                                               

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Snow Day

Mother Nature threw down her blanket shortly after midnight, just in time for an artic blast moving through the area.
Our first snowfall of the year, magically transforming the landscape.
Soft, wet snowflakes shutting us off from our little world as we know it, cocooned in a blanket of white.
Silenced.
 




 

  
  
 
 

 



Out of the bosom of the air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garment shaken,
Over the woodlands, brown and bare
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

~~By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.~~ 
 


 

Friday, January 12, 2018

Iced Over

If given the option, I would have chosen snow.
Soft, white flakes blanketing the ground.
Instead, we are covered in ice.
Trees, houses, vehicles, bird-feeders.
No snowballs today.