Peace on Earth, Goodwill To All Men

I've so enjoyed our visits back and forth throughout the year, all the sweet comments wriitten  and well-wishes when a word of encouragement was needed.

We truly wish each and every one of you, friends and family, near and far, all the blessings of a Joyous and Merry Christmas.

 

May you have the gladness of Christmas which is hope;

The spirit of Christmas which is peace;

The heart of Christmas which is love."

 

~Ada V. Hendicks

 

 

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,

We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,

And etched on vacant places

Are half-forgotten faces

Of friends we used to cherish,

And loves we used to know.

 

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Time-Worn

The creaking silence of age.

I like Old.

Great Depression

worn-in (not worn-out)

favorite quilt

classic car.

I like the way Old feels.

Sheets washed a thousand times

frayed around the stitching

busting from stories.

I like the way Old sounds.

Creaky wooden floors

heaters that pop and snap

doors that slam like they really mean it!

I like the way Old looks.

chipped paint

worn corners

rust

not from neglect or carelessness, but from use.

I'd live in an Old house

with a big Old front porch.

One that heaves to tell me someone is home

and echos of little feet running across it.

I like Old.

~Holy Glasgow

Christmas Magic

 One of my all-time favorite Christmas cards, from the American Humane Association.

It just melts my heart.

 ❤

Woolly Socks And Flip-Flops

We've been spoiled up until this point, with warmer than usual days, many not requiring the wearing of a jacket.
The last few pleasant days of Autumn, with sunshine aplenty.

Last night, the  temperatures fell into the twenties, no more flip-flops, now the winter boots and woolly socks appear.

Mother Nature sprinkled the landscape with snow, just enough to decorate for the season.

The birds have taken to their nests, the turkeys lead their flocks to the nightly roost.

Winter days will soon be here,  but in just 109 short days, Spring will once again return.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.”

~ Henry Beston : Northern Farm

Thanksgiving Blessings

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 yourself.

~Author Unknown

 

A Blessed and Happy Thanksgiving from our home to yours............

 

Lest We Forget

 

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.

In Flanders Fields ~ Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

Dedicated to all the brave men and women whose unselfish sacrifices and bravery shall never be forgotten.

Thank You.

"…as nearly perfect a little place as I ever lived in"

I'm whisking you away to a place with special ties, a place where my grandmother and I visited most every year, The English Lake District.

If you share a love of Beatrix Potter as I do, I have a treat in store.....
Courtesy of Britain's ITV3 television program 'Living the Dream' we are treated to an incredible visit inside Yew Tree Farmhouse, home of Beatrix Potter.


The life of Beatrix Potter is a fascinating story in itself, one that has a lot to offer children particularly as an insight into the constraints and expectations of women in the Victorian Era. Ahead of her time she defied convention to become not only one of the great storytellers and artists of her age but also a landowner, farmer and conservationist .

(Helen) Beatrix Potter (1866-1943)

Yew Tree Farm with its distinctive ‘spinning gallery’ is in the beautiful Lake District, in a stunning picturesque setting it is ideally located for all Lakeland activities.

 

The Farm House was built in 1693 and is one of the most photographed farms in the North. Yew tree was owned by Beatrix Potter in the 1930s and is still home to many of her furnishings, Yew Tree farm featured as ‘Hill Top’ in the movie ‘Miss Potter’ starring Rene Zellweger.

 

Beatrix called the Lake District in England her beloved home. She owned several farms in the local area, Yew Tree Farmhouse being her favorite. Yew Tree Farmhouse is partly of 17th Century date or earlier, with a new end added in 1743.

 

This date, and the initials of the then owner, George Walker, are cut in the ironwork of the front door. The farm gets its name from the yew tree, some 700 years old when it blew down in 1896.

"…as nearly perfect a little place as I ever lived in, and such nice old-fashioned people in the village." -Beatrix Potter

Video credit: yewtreefarm1/ITV3

Red Sky At Night

                                                         A peaceful sunset this evening. 

                                        Cooler temps, after a warm and breezy Autumn day.

                                                         Peace.....such a lovely thought.

Still Bloomin'

With milder than normal temperatures, these few early weeks of Autumn, the Morning Glory vines are still blooming their little hearts out.

This Grandpa Ott variety, returns year after year, without any help from the gardener.
The vines wrap their tendrils around the weathered-wood fence, and grace us with beauty, all summer long.

The flowers are a sumptuous Royal Blue trumpet with a contrasting purple star.
A strikingly beautiful combination.
Not quite the Autumn palette, yet nevertheless, we'll enjoy their presence until the first freeze of the season, and then it's " show-over ".

 

  

Barnyard Folly

When your artsy-daughter feels the need to add more barnyard friends to her menagerie.

Barnwood creations.

 

Seasons Changing

Over the last couple of days, the remains of hurricane Delta has taken away our sunshine.

The dark clouds linger overhead, making for dark and dreary days. If I didn't know the difference I would think we were in the depths of winter, even the house has taken on a different hue.

The days are noticeably shorter,  dark by 7:00pm now, the wild turkeys lead their flocks to the nightly roost late afternoon, and the last of the hummingbirds are leaving for their winter homes.

Orange pumpkins and Chrysanthemums are replacing summer blooms, now fading fast.

 

 

Missing You

How I miss this beautiful face, it would have been his kitty-birthday today.

Happy Birthday in the land of the Rainbow Bridge, to my precious boy, you are missed beyond words.

💔

Rain-Filled

Our day is dark and rain-filled, the looming remnants of Hurricane Delta .

It's hard to imagine the destruction a fierce storm unleashes on the coastline, when inland, it's remains fall softly to the parched ground, a welcomed sign of relief.

The house-painters worked on the outside of our home yesterday, not the best timing with a hurricane looming in the Gulf, but we've been on the waiting list for quite some time now.

Beggars can't be choosers.

 

Ode To Autumn

 

There is a subtle change in the air.
Cool mist-filled mornings, and daytime temperatures are seasonably pleasant. 

Trees are slowly changing from greens to oranges and browns,  Autumn has unmistakably arrived.

 

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells."

~ John Keats

'Til They're Clean And Sparkly

 

The most beautiful of late September days today. Cooler temperatures and mild breezes.

I've spent the majority of the time cleaning away Summer's dirt and grime, 

Windows are washed, and porches swept, late afternoon I baked two loaves of banana nut bread, one to keep, and one to send home with my visiting granddaughter.

A simple day, to be savored.

And The Rains Came

Deluged with rain today, bucket loads of the stuff, the town creek has flooded, and water is standing everywhere.
The flowers look bedraggled, water-logged in fact.
This picture of the Autumn Joy Sedum was taken mid-week, it's finally in bloom, and turning a delicious shade of crimson.
Autumn is just around the corner.

Summer's Bounty

Enjoying a taste of the last Summer strawberries.

I'm freezing the remainder, to indulge in, on a cold Winter's day.

Topped with a dollop of clotted cream, or maybe use them to make a  lovely batch of strawberry scones.

Accompanied by a nice pot of tea.

*grin*

 

 

 

A Cozy Tale

I have always been amazed by the wonderful friends we meet through this world called blogging.

Words of encouragement, sympathy, and an overall feeling of camaraderie.

The sort of people I would enjoy sitting down and sharing a pot of tea and a scone with.

A sweet fellow blogger  writes a delightful blog about all things tea, and in particular English tea and customs. https://bernideensteatimeblog.blogspot.com/
Bernideen owned her own tea room in Colorado Springs, Colorado, a town co-incidentally, I lived in for several years, but wasn't aware of her delight.
Recently,  Bernideen has moved to be closer to family in Missouri, and has recreated her tea room in her home, and stunning garden.

Her talents do not stop there she is also a talented crafter.
She designs and sews amazingly beautiful tea-cozies.
If you are a regular reader of my little blog, you are probably aware that I recently lost my handsome Oliver cat to Bobcat fever, a terrible disease with little or no cure.
Bernideen contacted me and asked if she could send me a gift, in remembrance of Oliver, and Saturday it arrived.

The sweetest little tea-cozy created with kitties on the fabric, front and center is the image of a orange and white kitty, just like my Oliver.
The cozy can be reversed, the opposite side, is fabric covered in the Union Jack flag of England.
It's perfect, as pretty as I could have imagined, THAT kindness just made my day.

Thank you dear Bernideen, I will forever treasure your beautiful gift.

Wildflower Beauty

One of the sure signs, that Summer is waning, is the return of the Passion Flower..

Resembling something of an underwater sea-creature, the Passion Flower resides far from the ocean, in land-locked Tennessee.

It was first named as the official state flower in 1919 and then in 1939 the iris was also named the state flower. In 1973 legislation was passed designating the passion flower as the state wildflower and the iris as the state cultivated flower.

Also known as the maypop, wild apricot and the Ocoee, passion flowers grow wild in the southern United States and South America. Ocoee is the Indian name for the passion flower (also used in the name of the Ocoee River and valley in Tennessee and the city of Ocoee in Florida). American Indians considered Ocoee the most beautiful of flowers.
I can't help but agree.

Returning

The porch rails have been replaced, how I've missed them !

This is our third set of rails, the spindles are custom turned and made from beautiful Western Cedar wood, shipped in from North Dakota.

The painters show up tomorrow, not the best timing, with a hurricane lingering in the atmosphere.

Tom-Tilly is one happy little camper, they give her just enough privacy to watch over her domain, yet deter adventurous visitors from disturbing her naps. 

That unusually means a  naughty squirrel or two.  

Words From The Old Farmer's Almanac

"Winter will be warmer than normal, on average, with the coldest periods in early December, late January, and early to mid-February"

Apparently, the trees have not yet read that prediction.

Autumn seems to be creeping in.

In A Pickle

My sweet daughter has worked at the same company over the past thirty years. 

This summer her job was no longer.

She's enjoying taking care of her little hobby farm, and has found a new talent....canning.

From pencil-pusher to pickle-packer and lots more.

Bread and butter pickles and I can't stop devouring them 🙂

Lost

Taking a little bloggy break to hopefully recharge my spirit.

I seem to have lost my direction, and purpose.

Be well dear friends.

💗

Watching

Tom-Tilly spends her days watching for Oliver.
I don't have the heart to tell her.....

Missing You

Thank you for all of the heartfelt sentiments, and sincere comments on Oliver's passing, they truly made my days brighter.

His presence is missed terribly around the house, I call his name repeatedly not thinking he is no longer with us.

I hear his meow, and most of all, I miss his quirky snoring in the middle of the night.

RIP my boy.🧡

"If every time I thought of you, a star fell,

Well....the sky would be empty."

My Oliver

It is with great sadness that I'm writing to tell you our big,  beautiful boy Oliver has slipped away from us. Despite his brave and heroic battle , the cruel and unforgiving disease has taken him away.
He passed, cradled in my arms, as I whispered my love and adoration for him.
Godspeed my ginger boy, you will be missed beyond words.

💔

I Loved You Best

So this is where we part, My Friend,
And you'll run on, around the bend.
Gone from sight, but not from mind,
New pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on; I'll find the strength,
Life measures quality, not it's length.
One long embrace before you leave,
Share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,
But they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
Will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
The fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
Take with you this....I loved you best.

~Jim Willis 

Oliver 2008 -July 17 2020