had the strangest warm weather the past few days.
Here it is, the middle of
December and the temperature reached a balmy 76 degrees yesterday, folks were
running around town, in shorts and flip-flops !
Tonight we are in for a taste of winter, freezing rain, and temperatures down in the thirties, time to pull out those scarves and gloves.
A good day to stay home, indulge in tea and biscuits, and work on my Christmas list.
Each time I pass this old homestead, my heart skips a beat.
Long ago abandoned, and neglected, I can't help but imagine her beauty and elegance in bygone times.
I fight the urge to hang a Christmas wreath on her weathered clapboard siding, and imagine her walls whispering "Thank You" for not forgetting.
Someone always leaving
and never coming back.
The wooden houses left too
to turn old and gray.
Weeds pushing apart . . .
Trees gone wild,
Shredded curtains blowing in the wind.
Beams of weathered wood . . .
No longer able to hold in
The soft heartbeat of Home.
Count your blessings instead of your
crosses; Count your gains instead of your
losses. Count your joys instead of your
woes; Count your friends instead of your
foes. Count your smiles instead of your
tears; Count your courage instead of your
fears. Count your full years instead of
your lean; Count your kind deeds instead
of your mean. Count your health instead of
your wealth; Count on God instead of
A Blessed and Happy Thanksgiving from our home to
I ventured amongst the masses yesterday, taking myself off to the thronging
Christmas shopping mart, I must confess, it's not my cup of tea.
prefer the kind of shops that are a 'hole in the wall' kind of place, chocked
with antiques and time-worn utilitarian pieces, their finishes worn with years
of use and enjoyment.
And so before long, I found myself rambling around
my favorite little shop, decorated to the hilt with fresh Cedar boughs, Magnolia
branches, and Rose
hip berries, mingled together with gingerbread cookie ornaments and hot
mulled cider, the scents were intoxicatingly delicious.
No deadlines to meet, no chores to complete,
no lists to check twice.
day to lounge in the comfort of your pajamas and woolly socks, to gaze out of
the window and watch the falling leaves drift slowly to the ground.
day for sipping cups of tea and curling up by the fireside with a portly feline
at your side.
Remembrance Day – also known as Poppy
Day, Armistice Day (the event it commemorates) or Veterans Day – is a day to
commemorate the sacrifices of members of the armed forces and of civilians in
times of war, specifically since the First World War.
It is observed on 11 November to recall the end of World War I on that date
Major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of
the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918 with the German signing of the Armistice.
The day was specifically dedicated by King George V, on 7 November 1919, to the
observance of members of the armed forces who were killed during war.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Flanders Fields~ Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872
Dedicated to all the brave men and women whose unselfish sacrifices and
bravery shall never be forgotten.
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the
From their shadowy coat the white breasts peep
Of doves in a
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
reeds in a silver stream.
Left blooming alone; All her lovely
companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is
nigh, To reflect back her blushes, To give sigh for sigh.
leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are
sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter, Thy leaves
o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and
So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, From Love's
shining circle The gems drop away. When true hearts lie withered And
fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit, This bleak world
A heavy fog had started to roll in before we turned in for the night, and by morning light it was difficult to see beyond a few yards.
I watched as the dewy blanket fell to the ground, illuminated by the porch lights, how can something be so treacherous, and yet so magical ?
The day has warmed to a balmy 76 degrees, and out of the blue, an invasion of Ladybugs ( Ladybirds for my readers across the pond), have emerged.
Literally hundreds of them.
I have a suspicion the State beetle just wanted to show off their Halloween costumes.
"Come along inside ~ We'll see if tea and buns will make the world a better place."
~ Wind in the Willows
To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man's life.
~ T.S. Eliot
"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there"
Contentment is not the fulfillment of what we want,
but the realization of how much we already have.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes
A London Telegraph featured blog
everyone else is taken."
~ Oscar Wilde
A British Weekly Featured Blog.
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters
compared to what lies within us."
' There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much dimished by a cup of tea.'
Now winter nights enlarge
This number of their hours;
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine,
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine...
"Tell you what I like the best --
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, -- some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!"
~ James Witcomb Riley : Knee Deep in June
“Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.”
~ John Wesley
Question not, but live and Labour Till yon goal be won, Helping every feeble neighbour, Seeking help from none; Life is mostly froth and bubble, Two things stand like stone, Kindness in another's trouble, Courage in your own.
"What a ripping little house this is !
Everything so handy ! "
~ Wind in the Willows.
" If you would prefer NO music, Please scroll down to the bottom of the blog, to PLAYLIST and click the large two bar button"
The Shed..."In the potting shed, our hearts, the pleasures of home, and the glories of the garden merge. Its practical character eases our garden labors. Its romantic nature enriches our lives. Here is peace, and beauty, and a sense of purpose."
~Linda Joan Smith :The Potting Shed
Stories don't always end where
their authors intended.
But there is joy in following them,
wherever they take us.
Sweet friends who lend me their ear
Thank you for your lovely comments x
If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England.
~ Rupert Brooke
Scones and Clotted Cream
Homesteading in Winter
"There is nothing in the world, More beautiful than the forest Clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, Wherein every spray, Every blade of grass, Every spire of reed, Every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance." - William Sharp
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing: -- "Oh, how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade.
I'm Late, I'm Late for a very important date,
No time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late ...
"We're all mad here"
~ The Cheshire Cat
from Alice in Wonderland
I rule. No really, I do.
I like pigs
Dogs look up to us Cats look down on us Pigs treat us as equals.....
A British expat transplanted into the lush Tennessee countryside.
Wife, mother, grandma.
The other character in this plot, being Oliver the cat, gingerness and aloof.
I'm a lover of old. Time-worn, antiques, quilts, primitives, heirloom pieces, potting sheds, English literature, poetry, Battenburg lace, blue willow, cottages, white ironstone dishes, English transferware, worn-out picket fences, teapots, old bird houses, moss-covered clay pots, gardening, all creatures great and small.
"And they loaded up their trucks and they moved to Tennessee....hills there are, swimming holes, country stars".