Candy and the Rocking Horse

'Let's go in and see if we can buy it.'

Candy has sixpence to buy sweets with.

'I'm afraid you'd have to save up a lot of those
before you could buy it,'
says the owner of the shop.

Candy saves all her money.
She never goes to the sweet shop.
But oh dear, one day the extra special rocking horse
 was gone.
She is very sad.

She writes to Santa Claus.

She spends all her saved up pennies and sixpences
on presents for her father,
(three handkerchiefs)
her mother,
(a pot of daffodils)
and Peppermint the dog
(a piece of ribbon to tie on his collar).

On Christmas Eve, Candy wrapped up her presents
and put them under the Christmas tree.

What a wonderful Christmas everyone had!

This year's rather wonky Advent window
based on a children's book published in 1965
and the song
Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.

Safely gathering in

Let Christmas commence.

You only have to ask

I mentioned to Karen of Cornflower Books on her post 

Observation of the Day,

that I had a copy of Plats du Jour inscribed 'Barbara Pym'

and wished aloud that I could find an example 
of her handwriting to see whether it might be her own.

No sooner said than solved.

She very kindly posted pictures taken here  

and I would say that there is not much doubt

that it is by the same hand.

Folded inside the back cover I found this

advertisement for Lily Brand pastas.

Karen says that she was a keen cook

and an adventurous one too I would say,

because in 1957 very few people were seeking out 

authentic pasta, or even knew where it came from.
This brilliant hoax dates from the same year.

My other tree

is a fake one with integral lights.

I thought I was a purist and would never

give house room to a plastic tree,

but this one has snuck in

and I think it gives the decorations

room to shine.

The proper one is still in the garage

conserving its needles until the weekend.

There will be the usual tussle with the lights

and the stand and the lopsided branches

but it will smell wonderful

in the cold mornings before everyone is up.

Three minutes

from this

to this.

Really it was a stern discipline for me

 to stand still for that long,

while the sun hoisted itself from the sea.

And that is why I have posted all the pictures,

to remind myself when I am driving

down the long road to this place,

stupidly watching the journey elapsed time 

ticking over at each slight traffic queue

and thinking that it has taken three minutes 

longer than my 'best' time,

while cursing the driver who hogs my tail

waiting to overtake,

only to be stopped at a traffic light 

inches ahead from me a moment later,

 that there is just no need to hurtle through the day

as though the hounds of Hell are on our backs.

For what are we going to do with that three minutes 'saved'?

Except perhaps, cause an accident on a blind bend,

or at a jumped light, or a junction misjudged.

The sun will continue to rise in its own good time.

It would be a pity not to be there to see it.

A symphony in pink and gold

It has been a while since I last photographed this view-

these pictures were taken just half an hour apart

this morning.

And only because he co-ordinates so well-

a gratuitous picture of Tall Cat who visits regularly now

and sometimes obliges me to sit with him.

Displacement activity

I 

fetched

 the tree from the

'Christmas Tree Forest', 

set up as usual in a vacant lot 

at the side of a busy road.The sylvan glade 

atmosphere somewhat marred by the urgent sirens 

of eight of those rather sinister black unmarked police cars

 tearing past and jostling all the other traffic out of the way as 
I debated the merits of a Norway Spruce over a Nordman Fir.

The spiky Spruce won, because it smells better

and reminds me of my childhood. The needles will shower

 over the tiled floor and stick in my jumper but I can live with that.

I wrestled the 7 foot netted tree in through the boot and across 

the flattened back seats so that it could nestle 

on my left shoulder for the journey home,

thankful that all available police were occupied in the 

opposite direction. Once home I had slightly more difficulty pulling 

it out of the boot and then had to saw off the bottom two inches 
with a rusty saw and find a bucket of water
 to stand it in. It is leaning drunkenly in the garage,but smells 
gorgeous. Whilst in there, I inspected my forced hyacinth

bulbs.They are sulking.A few noodly roots have grown but nothing
 is coming

 out of the 
top. They
have been 

there for
 weeks and 
I'd thought

that surely 
this year they would be ready for Christmas Day.

I'm going to make you a star

I have just discovered origami -

the perfect activity for getting in the flow

while simultaneously transforming a pile

of magazines into Christmas decorations.

And it keeps my hands out of the Kettles* crisp bag.

I used these instructions.

*Still no freebies.

I should never be left alone

with a bag of lightly salted

Kettles crisps*.

Especially not the sharing kind.

*This is not a sponsored post.

More's the pity.

A weekend walk

I resent 

the early curtailment

 of each day

but must relent

when it presents

a mild still stroll

in Advent.

Lent by autumn

when it is meant

 to be winter.

This heaven-sent sky,

the main event.

The tactah woods

A big surprise in the woods.

In the absence of any actual grandchildren

I have taken the liberty of hoping 

to virtually amuse

a blogger's grandson

(who I happen to know likes tractors),

while she is indisposed.