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.
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.
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.
This past weekend The First Sergeant and myself attended our granddaughter's wedding..
The day started with rain, not the weather we had hoped for, since the ceremony was an outside venue.
As the afternoon approached, the rain cleared, and the most perfect of days emerged, low humidity and sunshine.
Is there anything sweeter than a simple, country style
wedding, surrounded by all things good in life, friendship, food and
My sweet niece Mollie from England, presents the bride-to-be with a lucky horseshoe.
Mr. & Mrs.
"Come, let's be a comfortable couple and take care of each other! How glad we
shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk to and sit with.
Thank you for sharing in this precious day and for all of the sweet well-wishes they are truly appreciated.
Our dear family members are flying across the Atlantic ocean as I type.
Returning home to England, after spending a week filled with laughter, a wedding, and much tea-drinking.
The house is now eerily quiet, yet oddly enough I still hear their voices echoing amongst it's walls.
" More tea anyone ?"