It's Twelfth Night so most of the day has been taken up with taking down the Christmas decorations and packing them carefully away. The tree has been carried outside and the cut greenery and the wreath with its wizened berries have been put on the compost heap. The wood burner has galloped through our wood stack over the holiday period and more supplies were delivered this morning.
That's more like it!
There is a very bumpy bit of driveway to cross before you can enter our yard.
The bumps are caused by the roots of the horse chestnut tree
which I'm afraid is rather sick.
Now the council have decided that it is unsafe and must be felled. I shall be very sorry to see it go.
It will leave a big gap!
But there is some consoling blossom to be found in the garden, buds are fattening and snowdrop leaves are pushing out of the ground.
The house feels a little under-dressed without all the paper swags, the candles and the trinkets. The cards will be recycled but there are always a few, those that have been home-made, that I keep. This set, spanning a number of years, provide a fabulous record of a growing family. This year Eldest Boy took over the design and production (front right.) How brilliant is he!!
I live with Himself (husband) in a former gamekeeper's cottage in the South-West of England.
All poetry and artwork on this blog is
copyright and property of Rosemary Murphy unless otherwise stated.
I have three blogs;
Share my garden,
My life in one hundred objects and
The 'Himself' blog consists of short stories and artwork, copyright of Peter Murphy.