Tales of a British expat, transplanted into the lush Tennessee countryside. Lover of old, time-worn, and antique. Tea-drinker, flower-grower, animal-nurturer.
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
Purr-fect
This beautiful sweet face belongs to my granddaughter's cat, Cooper.
I've introduced you to him before, you wouldn't know by looking at him, but he's a senior citizen, closing in on seventeen years old.
He's a spoilt kitty, but who could resist.
>^..^<
Friday, January 26, 2018
Longing For Spring
I think I'm suffering from cabin fever.
Yesterday, I ran a few errands, and took a nice long drive through the country roads to the post office in the next town.
Despite not visiting there since before Christmas, people remember my name, it's a lovely and welcoming feeling.
I wish Spring would hurry this way, sunshine, warm soil and longer days, I'm looking forward them all.
Labels:
Cabin fever,
driving country roads,
spring fever.
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
The Old Barn
The nesting season is upon us.
People and animals alike, hunkered down against the elements that Mother Nature throws our way throughout the next few months.
A warm barn, always a welcoming privilege, to those creatures great and small.
Tons upon tons the brown-green fragrant hay
O'erbrims the mows beyond the time-warped eaves,
Up to the rafters where the spider weaves,
Though few flies wander his secluded way.
Through a high chink one lonely golden ray,
Wherein the dust is dancing, slants unstirred.
In the dry hush some rustlings light are heard,
Of winter-hidden mice at furtive play.
Far down, the cattle in their shadowed stalls,
Nose-deep in clover fodder's meadowy scent,
Forget the snows that whelm their pasture streams,
The frost that bites the world beyond their walls.
Warm housed, they dream of summer, well content
In day-long contemplation of their dreams.
O'erbrims the mows beyond the time-warped eaves,
Up to the rafters where the spider weaves,
Though few flies wander his secluded way.
Through a high chink one lonely golden ray,
Wherein the dust is dancing, slants unstirred.
In the dry hush some rustlings light are heard,
Of winter-hidden mice at furtive play.
Far down, the cattle in their shadowed stalls,
Nose-deep in clover fodder's meadowy scent,
Forget the snows that whelm their pasture streams,
The frost that bites the world beyond their walls.
Warm housed, they dream of summer, well content
In day-long contemplation of their dreams.
Sir Charles GD Roberts
Labels:
nesting season,
Sir Charles GD Roberts,
winter barn
Friday, January 12, 2018
Iced Over
If given the option, I would have chosen snow.
Soft, white flakes blanketing the ground.
Instead, we are covered in ice.
Trees, houses, vehicles, bird-feeders.
No snowballs today.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Monday, January 1, 2018
Winter Friendships
Taking a few days off to catch up on overdue visits with dear friends.
Share a cup of tea, a piece of homemade Christmas cake, and swap Christmas gifts.
A lovely start to a brand New Year.
Be well !
Share a cup of tea, a piece of homemade Christmas cake, and swap Christmas gifts.
A lovely start to a brand New Year.
Be well !

"Winter, a lingering season,
is a time to gather golden moments,
embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour. "
is a time to gather golden moments,
embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour. "
~John Boswell
Raty, and Mole visiting Badger ~ Wind in the Willows
Labels:
Badger,
friendships,
Raty and Mole,
Wind in the Willows
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