Driving home across Dartmoor this afternoon. Sun, sky & colours doing all sorts of magic. Winter solstice but a week away.
Probably 1958-9 and either Uncle Holly’s Christmas Grotto at Selfridges in London, or Kennard’s in Croydon. This might have been the year I asked for the Give-a-Show Projector, or perhaps it was the battery operated gramophone. I remember hating that coat because it was scratchy and the fawn socks, because white socks were only for Sunday School. Tights hadn’t been invented. My mum knitted those bonnets probably until I asked her not to and my gloves were attached by elastic to my sleeves. My brother of course wore his school cap everywhere, because boys did in those days. #throwbackthursday
A Nocturnal Upon St Lucy's Day Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's, Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks; The sun is spent, and now his flasks Send forth light squibs, no constant rays; The world's whole sap is sunk...John Donne. The sap may indeed be sunk but what a warm welcome in the library for our regular monthly book group @hotelendsleigh last night. We did our bit to enlighten the world of books ( our theme was Black & White) and to cheer the season along. Much mirth & merriment, jingly antlers, elf hats and pots of tea, mince pies & Secret Santa 🎅
There is always so much to see on a walk along the lane and beyond, not least the distant view of home which has been there since the 1850s, and the woods at the top of the holloway, or green lane as they are called in Devon. Then looking at the sparse winter hedgerows and wondering whether it was someone who lived in our house, built for farm labourers, who took the time to layer this hedgerow back in the day.