I awoke this morning to my Mother telling me that the birds had discovered my gifts this morning. I spent a long while working on finishing up christmas presents sitting on the bed, where I have a good view of the bird feeder to see who our visitors were.
We've had a Male & Female Cardinal, several Junkos, several of those cheeky black cap chickadees and a Blue Jay stop by the feeder and the suet thus far this morning. At one point the Male Cardinal decided that he didn't want the Junkos eating the food spilled on the ground and he swooped down in all of his crimson glory and frightened them away, temporarily. Later on in the morning, a woodpecker of some variety stopped at the Suet feeder to help himself to a little of the candy that I had filled it with. (I had chosen the fruits and nuts suet as a treat).
The rest of the day I spent in finishing up the presents, and observing the beauty of the bright snow in the brilliant sunlight. All through the window, for it has gotten quite cold. This evening our temperature has reached -5 so far, with a wind chill advisory. And tomorrow is Christmas Eve.
“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder
“My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?”
― Bob Hope
“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful. ”
― Norman Vincent Peale
“When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness.”
― Bob Hope
“Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.”
― Hamilton Wright Mabie
Monday, December 23, 2013
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/22/2013
The snow finally came last night. A good several inches, piled high on branches and draped gently across the ground. We sang our "snow song" this morning.
It goes: "It snowed last night, it snowed last night. The Skybears had a pillow fight. They tore up every cloud in sight and tossed down feathers snowy white."
The sun is out already, and the trees are shining in their icy dresses. The stark lines of the leafless trees are given an even more striking appearance as the snow plied on them, giving the black and white shillouettes an even more striking appearance. As we sat in church this morning, the Hymn "Morning Has Broken" popped into my head.
"Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlight from heaven.
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning.
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Prause with elation, praise every morning;
God's recreation of the new day.
Morning has broken, like the first morning.
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word."
"The more it snows (Tiddely pom),
The more it goes (Tiddely pom),
The more it goes (Tiddely pom),
On snowing. And nobody knows (Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes (Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes (Tiddely pom),
Are growing.
A. A. Milne
The House at Pooh Corner"
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
“The Eskimo has fifty-names for snow because it is important to them; there ought to be as many for love.”
― Margaret Atwood
It goes: "It snowed last night, it snowed last night. The Skybears had a pillow fight. They tore up every cloud in sight and tossed down feathers snowy white."
The sun is out already, and the trees are shining in their icy dresses. The stark lines of the leafless trees are given an even more striking appearance as the snow plied on them, giving the black and white shillouettes an even more striking appearance. As we sat in church this morning, the Hymn "Morning Has Broken" popped into my head.
"Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlight from heaven.
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning.
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Prause with elation, praise every morning;
God's recreation of the new day.
Morning has broken, like the first morning.
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word."
"The more it snows (Tiddely pom),
The more it goes (Tiddely pom),
The more it goes (Tiddely pom),
On snowing. And nobody knows (Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes (Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes (Tiddely pom),
Are growing.
A. A. Milne
The House at Pooh Corner"
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
“The Eskimo has fifty-names for snow because it is important to them; there ought to be as many for love.”
― Margaret Atwood
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/21/2013 4:54pm
I just hung out some gifts for the birds. Orange slices, a garland of popcorn and another garland of cranberries. I also put fresh seed in the bird feeder and made little "ornaments" in my Mom's madeleine pan, I cut up cranberries and mixed them with bird seed, then I added enough water to fill the little shells and froze them with yarn strings to hang them with.
I doubt that I shall receive many guests to this feast this evening, as the sun has already begun to set. However, I have hopes that tomorrow morning, bright and early the birds will discover my Christmas gift to them.
The frosty hand of the rain and fog of the last two days is showing its colors. All of the trees and grasses were gently coated in a white gown, sparkling and delicate. While at a distance it is as if a haze cloud had decended upon the upper branches of the trees.
Listening to Christmas music & eating popcorn in the light of my Mom's Christmas tree. Then later, we will have a small Christmas Party with Luke, watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," drink sparkling white grape juice and decorate a paper Christmas tree for his grandmother.
The predicted snow has gently begun, little flurries of the white flakes gliding silently through the air. I am looking forward to seeing how much more snow we get this evening. I love how the snow blankets the world. It softens everything, as though hiding it until springtime reveals it once again.
I doubt that I shall receive many guests to this feast this evening, as the sun has already begun to set. However, I have hopes that tomorrow morning, bright and early the birds will discover my Christmas gift to them.
The frosty hand of the rain and fog of the last two days is showing its colors. All of the trees and grasses were gently coated in a white gown, sparkling and delicate. While at a distance it is as if a haze cloud had decended upon the upper branches of the trees.
Listening to Christmas music & eating popcorn in the light of my Mom's Christmas tree. Then later, we will have a small Christmas Party with Luke, watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," drink sparkling white grape juice and decorate a paper Christmas tree for his grandmother.
The predicted snow has gently begun, little flurries of the white flakes gliding silently through the air. I am looking forward to seeing how much more snow we get this evening. I love how the snow blankets the world. It softens everything, as though hiding it until springtime reveals it once again.
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/21/2013
The trees are encased in a thin layer of ice. The sounds of the branches striking each other in the gentle wind reminds me of wind chimes. It is as if the weather has decided to crown the trees with silver, in honor of Christmas.
It is another gray day. The sun is hiding behind heavy clouds, and the weather man has forcasted snow for this evening. The christmas tree is twinkling merrily, and the snow shines brightly outside the windows.
Four more days until that celebrated day, a day when families gather together. I am looking forward to that gathering.
It is another gray day. The sun is hiding behind heavy clouds, and the weather man has forcasted snow for this evening. The christmas tree is twinkling merrily, and the snow shines brightly outside the windows.
Four more days until that celebrated day, a day when families gather together. I am looking forward to that gathering.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/20/2013
Yesterday I left my Northwoods Snowy Fortress and climbed into my automobile. Traveling the 267 miles, I ended my journey at my mother's cozy nest. However, after a unremarkable trip I am sad to inform you that it has been raining, that's right raining, since last night. Everything is covered in a thin sheet of ice.
And so my original plan for the day has fallen flat. Due to the dismal weather, the rain and ice coated walk ways, I was not able to wander around town admiring all of the Christmas decorations on the beautiful old homes that reside in this town. Nor was I able to go snowshoeing along the edges of Nygren's Wetlands. Now, that one was in part to the fact that I forgot my snowshoes up north...
Tomorrow night the weather is supposed to turn once again. Snow is predicted, several inches more. So it would appear that we will have a white christmas, and the possibility of ice skating on Monday is very high! Snow, snow, snow.
Tonight, however, the snow sparkles in the light, the rain having turned the sheets of snow into a gleaming sheet of ice. You feel that you could skate along top of the snow, tonight, instead of sinking through. Almost like having the thought that you could fly, only to find out that gravity gets in the way.
Tonight I hope to get started on a series of popcorn and cranberry strings for the birds. I also want to get some oranges and slice them and put them out along with bird seed and suet. Perhaps Luke will assist me in some of that tomorrow evening, while we are entertaining him over here at Miss Susie's House. (Luke is 4, almost 5).
And so my original plan for the day has fallen flat. Due to the dismal weather, the rain and ice coated walk ways, I was not able to wander around town admiring all of the Christmas decorations on the beautiful old homes that reside in this town. Nor was I able to go snowshoeing along the edges of Nygren's Wetlands. Now, that one was in part to the fact that I forgot my snowshoes up north...
Tomorrow night the weather is supposed to turn once again. Snow is predicted, several inches more. So it would appear that we will have a white christmas, and the possibility of ice skating on Monday is very high! Snow, snow, snow.
Tonight, however, the snow sparkles in the light, the rain having turned the sheets of snow into a gleaming sheet of ice. You feel that you could skate along top of the snow, tonight, instead of sinking through. Almost like having the thought that you could fly, only to find out that gravity gets in the way.
Tonight I hope to get started on a series of popcorn and cranberry strings for the birds. I also want to get some oranges and slice them and put them out along with bird seed and suet. Perhaps Luke will assist me in some of that tomorrow evening, while we are entertaining him over here at Miss Susie's House. (Luke is 4, almost 5).
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/17/2013
The last few days have been much the same. Gray skies, broken occasionally by a watery winter sun, alternately with fast and furious bouts of snow. Thick blankets of the stuff lay all about. And have since just before Thanksgiving. We have a good foot of snow lying in a thick, heavy blanket all across the ground.
Last Friday night the moon was a few nights short of being full. The sky was mostly clear, and the moon shone brightly. Add to that the beauty of the halo that encircled the moon, and the shining blanket of snow that shone all around. It was a beautiful night.
We are looking towards more snow in the next few days, the ice on the lake is well established and the broomball courts and ice skating courts are well begun in preparation for the arrival of all of the families on December 27th.
I am looking forward to a break, time to spend with family, and walks out into the beauty of the winter world.
Last Friday night the moon was a few nights short of being full. The sky was mostly clear, and the moon shone brightly. Add to that the beauty of the halo that encircled the moon, and the shining blanket of snow that shone all around. It was a beautiful night.
We are looking towards more snow in the next few days, the ice on the lake is well established and the broomball courts and ice skating courts are well begun in preparation for the arrival of all of the families on December 27th.
I am looking forward to a break, time to spend with family, and walks out into the beauty of the winter world.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/13/2013
We got more snow last night. Woke up to another inch or so of the fine white powder covering my steps. A gray day, sky covered in clouds. The paper wasp nest hanging in the tree near the craft shop has a "beehive" made out of snow. Everything is still and quiet today. No wind disturbs the tips of the pines, with their laden branches.
Here are some poems and quotes about Snow.
“At Tara in this fateful hour,
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so
gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt;
and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes
again.”
“It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.”
Here are some poems and quotes about Snow.
Stopping by woods on a snowy evening:
"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
~Robert Frost
“You should see my corgis at sunset in the snow. It's their finest hour.
About five o'clock they glow like copper. Then they come in and lie in
front of the fire like a string of sausages.”
― Tasha Tudor, The Private World of Tasha Tudor
― Tasha Tudor, The Private World of Tasha Tudor
L. The Snow.
It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, --
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, --
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, --
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
~Emily Dickinson
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, --
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, --
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, --
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
~Emily Dickinson
“At Tara in this fateful hour,
I place all Heaven with its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And the fire with all the strength it hath,
And the lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And the sea with its deepness,
And the rocks with their steepness,
And the earth with its starkness:
All these I place,
By God's almighty help and grace
Between myself and the powers of darkness!”
~Madeleine L'Enlge "A Swiftly Tilting Planet"
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so
gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt;
and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes
again.”
―
Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
“It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately.”
―
A.A. Milne
“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.”
―
J.R.R. Tolkien,
The Hobbit
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/12/2013
It has warmed up, considerably. We hit 8 today! Much better than -12 yesterday morning. Perhaps this cold snap has snapped... Clouds moving in, thin and high. Like someone is drawing a blanket over the sky. Last night the moon was very bright, making the snow on the pine trees stand out with hauntingly beautiful clarity. Last night, I barely slept.
Last night I watched the remaining 3 episodes of
“The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady.”
After they show you her meeting Ernest and their engagement they began
to do a lot of jumping backwards and forwards through time, and took me all the
way to the moment I would have rather not seen, when Edith falls into the River
Thames.
(I had wanted to leave Ernest & Edith happily ever after.) More
than that though, it showed Ernest’s grief at his loss of Edith. He had loved her so very completely. And only got to spend 14 years with her. That seems so incredibly unfair.
I cried. I
had felt such kinship with Edith, and had rejoiced as she had met Ernest and he
had won her and now here he was, without her. Heartbroken.
She has touched me.
Her story, her quiet life. Her
joy in the simplest blossom and delight in the deepest dell. I was inspired to begin this blog, to try to
examine my world with the same wonder and delight as she viewed hers.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/11/2013 3:25pm
Already it is the "Golden Hour." It is strange to realize how quickly darkness falls at this time of the year. In the height of summer, we have light for 3 more hours than we do in the winter. The sun is gilding the snow. Bringing out the crystalline properties, it glitters in this softer, more gentle light.
I love winter sunlight. It is pale and golden all at the same time. The tops of the pines over by "The Meadows" and "Jay Lodge" are still waving gently in the wind, almost as if they are bending down with a courtly bow or waving hello to a dear friend. The sky is perfectly blue, no clouds to mar the golden shower of light.
But how quickly it is gone. Soon, the light will begin to come back. And slowly, like a reluctant school child, it will creep back to us and grace us with it's presence for a longer period of time. I love that time too, for though it is crazy and busy friends surround me, old & new.
I love winter sunlight. It is pale and golden all at the same time. The tops of the pines over by "The Meadows" and "Jay Lodge" are still waving gently in the wind, almost as if they are bending down with a courtly bow or waving hello to a dear friend. The sky is perfectly blue, no clouds to mar the golden shower of light.
But how quickly it is gone. Soon, the light will begin to come back. And slowly, like a reluctant school child, it will creep back to us and grace us with it's presence for a longer period of time. I love that time too, for though it is crazy and busy friends surround me, old & new.
Country Diary of a Lady: 12/11/2013
Bitterly cold, -13 according to my weather readers. Clear blue sky, with a pale golden sun gilding the tops of the birch trees. The pines behind them are swaying gently in the cold, cold breeze. Snow lies thick upon the ground. The cheerful painting of flowers on the outside of the Craft shop seems strangely in-congruent with the snowy landscape.
Heard no birds walking to work this morning, think that they are all snuggled down in their nests, trying to brave this cold.
Beautiful landscape. Trees look like they are draped in a heavy sugar frosting. Picturesque winter wonderland. Too cold for snowshoeing just yet.
Edith B. Holden
I attained the idea to keep this account from Edith B. Holden, whom I discovered while doing research on the Edwardian Era for a character that I am developing for my newest book series. Edith Holden was a solitary artist who loved nature, from what I have gathered from the documentary/drama I discovered at the library, titled "The Country Diary of an Edwardian Woman."
At 35 she had resigned herself to her life, living with her Father in their small house, teaching art part-time at a local private school and taking long walks and painting the things that she found. She had a great love for nature, and would depict plants and animals in her journal "Nature Notes on 1906," which was not published until after her death.
Edith met Alfred Ernest Smith during the summer of 1906, and they married 5 years later. Edith was 40 and Ernest was 33. There is not much really known about Edith's life, she appears to have been a very private person, partly why her "Nature Notes on 1906" was only published posthumously. Edith and Ernest were married for 9 years, living in London where Ernest worked as the principal assistant to Countess Feodora Gleichen.
On Tuesday, 16 March 1920, she was found drowned in a backwater of the River Thames, near Kew Gardens Walk. The inquest established that she had tried to reach a branch of chestnut buds. The bough was out of reach and with the aid of her umbrella Edith had tried to break it off, fallen forward into the river and drowned.
(My knowledge of much of this information came from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edith_Holden)
Watching the documentary I felt a kin-ship with Edith and having checked out the facsimile book, "The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady." It is a lovely book, filled with the charms of the countryside around Birmingham, including water color paintings of plants and animals as well as her observations of the passing of the seasons and bits of poetry. I have not yet had the time to sit down and read through it fully, but even just flipping through the pages, I desire a copy for myself. I hope to honor the art and the artist in this attempt to somewhat recreate her whimsy and charm.
At 35 she had resigned herself to her life, living with her Father in their small house, teaching art part-time at a local private school and taking long walks and painting the things that she found. She had a great love for nature, and would depict plants and animals in her journal "Nature Notes on 1906," which was not published until after her death.
Edith met Alfred Ernest Smith during the summer of 1906, and they married 5 years later. Edith was 40 and Ernest was 33. There is not much really known about Edith's life, she appears to have been a very private person, partly why her "Nature Notes on 1906" was only published posthumously. Edith and Ernest were married for 9 years, living in London where Ernest worked as the principal assistant to Countess Feodora Gleichen.
On Tuesday, 16 March 1920, she was found drowned in a backwater of the River Thames, near Kew Gardens Walk. The inquest established that she had tried to reach a branch of chestnut buds. The bough was out of reach and with the aid of her umbrella Edith had tried to break it off, fallen forward into the river and drowned.
(My knowledge of much of this information came from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edith_Holden)
Watching the documentary I felt a kin-ship with Edith and having checked out the facsimile book, "The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady." It is a lovely book, filled with the charms of the countryside around Birmingham, including water color paintings of plants and animals as well as her observations of the passing of the seasons and bits of poetry. I have not yet had the time to sit down and read through it fully, but even just flipping through the pages, I desire a copy for myself. I hope to honor the art and the artist in this attempt to somewhat recreate her whimsy and charm.
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