Monday, December 26, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
And you? What do YOU believe in?
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
The ancient hutch in the front room is laden with little lights and Christmas decorations. My two favorites are here. My daughter made figures of Mary, baby Jesus and two lovely angels when she was in high school. I treasure them. In the next photo is another prize... a nativity scene made by my friend Kathy; one of the first people I met when I moved to Memphis with our tiny infant. Kathy was a lifeline for me during a lonely time, and I think of her often, especially when I carefully unpack these sweet ceramic figures every December.
The tree this year is decorated rather simply... white lights, little icicle ornaments, crocheted snowflakes and antique crystals (which I gleefully purchased at a variety of antique/junk stores.) It reminds us of starry night and snow and smells like heaven.
The bottom photo shows some knitting projects my daughter and I have been working on. The purple and blue items are shawls we knit as gifts for some very special people, and the top, frothy looking item is a wonderful scarf which is still "in progress."
We had a visitor once who made my heart sing when she said, "Everywhere I look in your house there is something beautiful to admire." I try to remember this when I am focusing on the dust bunnies and clutter and doggy nose prints on the windows. There is so much pretty here to focus on instead.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
This time of year our home is bursting with plenty. The harvest of chickens, ducks, lamb, pork and (soon!) beef is tucked into the huge chest freezer. A smaller freezer is full of squash, carrots, beans, blueberries and quart bags stuffed full of tomato sauce made on a steaming day in August.
Now in December we've been scurrying around for weeks squirreling away gifts for each other for Christmas. Thoughtful things that we hope will delight are wrapped with love and tucked under the boughs of a fresh evergreen tree.
Best of all there is the coming together each evening after a long day at work. The ease and comfort of good companionship, pleasant conversation and companionable silences. That is the grace.
How I love to be in this place.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
We also finished decorating the tree... going with a very simplistic theme this year. Normally we haul out every single ornament collected over our entire marriage, all the little hand made things from our daughters childhood, a mish mash collection of colors and shapes and sizes. This year we decided to go for a rather simplistic approach; white lights, white crocheted snow flakes, little sparkly icicle ornaments and a bunch of antique crystals from an old chandelier that I found at a junk shop. It is very pretty!
There was much hauling of fire wood today. I don't mind the job, but my knees do. They ache after I have pushed a loaded wheelbarrow over the uneven ground from one side of the yard to the other over and over. A basement stacked full of good hard wood, though? That is decorating I can really warm up to!
Friday, December 2, 2011
This morning when the dogs and I streamed outside the world was coated in frost. We skidded over the deck and down the slick steps.
Then we went for a stroll around the meadow. The dogs were feeling feisty; leaping and dancing on the cold ground. Even Lilly, the ancient, arthritic Boxer, bounced and spun in the crisp air with her friend Dazzle poodle. Canine ballet.
The chickens and ducks were less than amused about the cold ground and frozen water bowls. I reminded them that this time of year is rarely as warm as it has been . They flipped me off. A few fistful's of sunflower seeds and some buckets of warm water, steaming in the morning air, placated them.
The bunny wisely hung out in the coop... on top of the deep bed of clean shavings. Her bowl of rabbit pellets was nearby... along with a carrot and some celery. And a nibble of bread. She LOVES bread.
Some of us love frosty mornings.