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.

 ❤

Christmas Memories

 

 

Each year as I'm busying myself with the Christmas decorating, my thoughts turn to home.
The traditions at Christmas that have stood the test of time throughout many English households.

The partaking of mince pies, raspberry trifle, sausage rolls, steamed plum pudding, and Christmas cake laden with dried fruit , marzipan and Royal Icing...hard as a rock.
Gathering around the television or the radio and listening to the Queen's Speech.
Afterwards a tipple of traditional sherry, or port, toasting the season and good health to all !

The pulling of the Christmas crackers before eating turkey dinner, wearing the paper party hats, laughing at the silly paper jokes inside, and delighting in the small prizes, most often magic tricks, or plastic trinkets.

Happy times, that are gratefully forever etched in our memories .......... 

Christmas Scents

One of my favorite Christmas activities in early December, when the cold weather has set in and thoughts are turning to decorating, are to make dried orange slices for hanging on the tree.

The aroma is intoxicatingly festive, and fills the house with the fresh smell of oranges.

If you desire you can sprinkle a few with a light dusting of cinnamon, not too heavy an amount as this tends to make the oranges darker.

When they are hung from the branches and the twinkling fairy lights shine through they remind of Nature's stained-glass.

 

Two or three Navel oranges.

Preheat your oven to 200 degrees.

Prepare your pan with nonstick spray or a baking mat. ...

Slice oranges into 1/4″ slices or thinner. ... 
Pat dry with a paper towel.

Place oranges in a single layer on the prepared pan, ensuring they do not touch.

Bake for up to 6 hours or until completely dry.
Hang from the tree with jute or ribbon.

                                                                              🎄

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