It's Raining and I'm Not Complaining

It's not looking like this here yet.  (This was taken on Christmas morning in 2005). I just finished taking down all the autumn decorations and it looks bare, spare and blah!  I was going to haul the Yule/Christmas decorations down to the cottage from the studio attic today but it's raining and I'm not complaining...we need the rain SO much.  The weather is supposed to be rainy until Sunday or Monday; I'm crossing my fingers that the weather forecast is right this time. 

So, my cottage will have to wait a bit before it gets dressed up because the stone steps from here to the studio are just too treacherous in the rain to be carrying big boxes down.  The steps wind down a steep hillside, they're covered in pine needles which makes them even more slippery, and I'm such a klutz I can trip on absolutely nothing, so we'll just have to put up with bare, spare and blah for now. 

But, even without decorations, it's lovely, wonderful, and glorious to be sitting by the fire drinking a cup of hot chocolate and watching the RAIN pour down! 

Wordless Wednesday - Gilded Flicker

Re-reading Books

"Sometimes I just HAVE to re-read a book.  Even if I have new ones, the old ones call to me."  Anonymous

Are you like this, too?  For me, re-reading a favorite book is like visiting with a beloved friend (or lots of them) that I haven't seen in a long while.  I tend to re-read favorite books when I'm stressed or just because it happens to be a certain time of the year and a particular book just fits that time of year. 

 It's a good thing I'm a fast reader (don't go by the 'what I'm reading now' thing in my sidebar; usually by the time I get around to changing it, I've read eight or nine books beyond that book).  Also, I'm never without a book, or my Kindle.  My sister, who is not a reader (people are always shocked by how different we are and how close we are in spite of those differences) says, "Honestly, Victoria, you're the only person I've ever known who thinks it's perfectly all right to read while sitting at the dining room table!"  My reply to her never varies.  "So, you didn't know our mother?"  I ask, and then we always laugh. 

When my husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year, I told him I wanted him to completely cover the dining room walls with beautiful shelves for books.  Here's hoping... 

Thoughts on Black Friday

 

"Advertising is the art of convincing people to spend money they don't have on something they don't need."  Will Rogers

Will Rogers, an early 20th century humorist and social commentator who also happened to be Cherokee, pretty much sums up the way I feel about Black Friday. 

In addition to that, I have a question.  Why has shopping turned into combat?  I read about the craziness at the malls and I have to wonder why anyone would want to participate in that mess.  I can understand wanting to get a good deal on the things that one buys, but numerous studies have proven that there are far better deals to be had on other days of the year. 

I just don't get it.

Wishing You a...

My Poor Husband...

He's sitting on the couch cuddling Miss Daisy and that is where he most likely will be for some time.  He has come down with a terrible case of the Flu...and it doesn't look like there will be any Thanksgiving turkey for him.  In fact, since it will only be the two of us this year, I think I will hold off on roasting a turkey for him (I'm a vegetarian) until he feels a lot better.  Any spare get-well-quickly thoughts and wishes you can send his way will be most appreciated!

A Quote for Monday

So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.  ~  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(Photo from the Internet; if this is your photo, please let me know).

Sunday Sunlight

                'Sunlight Falling on Cedars'

Cozy

Gloria (on the left) thinks that cuddling up with her big sister Sophia is a fine thing to do on these cold nights, even if she does have to endure a bit of a bath.  We had a little rain and a dusting of snow a few days ago.  I think (fingers crossed) winter weather is finally here.

A Quote for Monday

"It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know of wonder and humility."  Rachel Carson

Thank You

Wordless Wednesday - Thankful

Gold

"Each day comes bearing its own gifts.  Untie the ribbons."  Ruth Ann Schabacker

Sunday Sunlight

Taken today, while Elizabeth and I were out collecting a few acorns and pine cones.

Faeries Friday - The Truth About Chimney Sparks

My youngest great-great niece, Elizabeth, is spending the week-end with me.  Earlier this evening, while a cold little wind wandered around outside, we had watched our favorite movie "Fairy Tale: A True Story" with cats curled on our laps (when they weren't trying to sneak a taste of the whipped cream on top of our hot chocolate) and dogs begging for bits of peanut butter cookies at our feet.

As I was tucking her into bed in her favorite attic bedroom, the one with the sloping ceilings, a tiny fireplace and a window seat that overlooks the stream, she asked me this question: "Auntie V, can faeries really fly down the chimney like they do in the movie?  Why don't they get burned?"  I replied, "Well, of course they can!  And they don't get burned because they're magical.  They fly back up the chimney, too, only they're usually moving so fast and twinkling so brightly, that most people think they are sparks from their fireplace." 

Just as I finished speaking, I saw her eyes widen and her little mouth become a round 'O' of wonder.  I quickly turned to look out the window behind me and saw, in the purple tinted air of almost night, a shining, twinkling flight of bright Faeries swirling past the window. 

"I saw them, Auntie V, I saw them!  Did you?"  I replied, "Yes, my darling girl, I saw them, too." 

Now, I know some of you may think they were only sparks from the fireplace, but Elizabeth and I . . . well, we know the truth.