A pause.

 I'm settled down in my living room, watching the wind and the rain outside. It isn't a day for going out.

 It might be a day for a cup of coffee and a chapter of 'Winter Solstice'. I'm rationing myself because it would be too easy to just read and read, and I want to make the book last!

I am going to be away over Christmas, so this will probably be my last post. 

Thank you for all the lovely posts, the interesting reading and the friendship.  I do wish all my friends, near and far, a blessed and peaceful Christmas, with moments to just sit and enjoy.

Christmas decorations.

 The entrance to Trelissick House has been adorned with this lovely wreath.

Every year, the house is decorated for Christmas by a professional designer. Each room has its own tree, each mantel has a mass of greenery.

The cafe is open and under pressure from eager people who have travelled to see the decorations. One can take a coffee into the lounge, find an armchair and enjoy gazing. 

Or even visit with Father Christmas, or listen to one of the many festive Choir performances. Christmas at Trelissick is a vibrant time. It's so lovely to be only a mile or so away. I can visit whenever I feel like it!

Power out.

It has been one of the worst weekends in Britain due to Storm Darragh, Cornwall has had a bad time with 90 mile an hour gales, huge coastal waves and flooding. 

The wind was too powerful to even think about walking anywhere.

Shops were quickly closed, local garages shut down, and Christmas weekend fairs were cancelled.

My power went down completely on Saturday, no heat, no light, no phone, no laptop, nothing, and I don't have an alternative such as gas or open fire. The temperature in the house soon fell below safe levels.

 Fortunately I have a mobile phone and my daughter rescued me, sent a taxi as neither of us would dare to drive in the howling gale, and I stayed the weekend with her.

It seemed to be half our village without any power, but neighbours were very kind, offering flasks of hot drinks etc.

Back home now, and my garden doesn't seem to have suffered apart from a few things being blown down. A friend has lost all the glass in her greenhouse. It does make one realise the incredible power of the wind.

Carols

Next week there will be Carol singers on our road. There is little more lovely than the sound of singing on a cold night, people clustered round a lantern, nestled in to scarves and gloves. There might only be half a dozen, but when those clear voices ring out into the night you can feel the expectation of Christmas.

 

While I was doing a bit of research about Carol singers, I discovered that Cornwall came into the equation. The first Carol service is said to have been held in Truro cathedral in 1888, organised by Bishop White Benson, who later became Archbishop of Canterbury.

Carol singers, or Wassailers, in Victorian times.

Banned by Oliver Cromwell and the Puritans, it was felt that Christmas was 'a pagan festival'. I'm so glad that Carols survived. Long before they were known as Carols, people would sing, or wassail,  traditionally on Twelfth night. This was to bless the orchards to ensure a good harvest.

 Many of the traditional songs were collected from Cornish country villages by Sandys and Gilbert, two men who wanted to save our heritage of old Christmas songs and who produced a song book.

It's very much part of my Christmas. Do you have 'wassailers' or Carol singers?

Little trees

Twice a month I volunteer at our local 'Wellbeing hub', run for older  and housebound people. Usually around fifteen to twenty folk come, some brought by family, some by special transport. We meet between 11am and 1o'clock, and the session includes an activity and lunch.

Activities vary, sometimes there is a singer, sometimes a quiz or a talk. But every now and then we include a Craft session, and today I was organising it.

We made decorative Christmas trees . I cut out the basic shapes in green card, stuck some backing on and glued a 'lollipop' stick between the two.

Over the years, like so many of you, I have hoarded, sorry , collected, masses of useful things. Boxes of sequins, ribbons, lace, sparkly string, stick on labels and more and more.

This is what we produced.

(poor photos, sorry.)

Many of our ladies and gentlemen are in their 80s and 90s and hands don't always work so well. But everyone seemed to be delighted to be chasing sequins round the table, sticking on sparkly bits, gluing themselves to the table and comparing notes with each other.

The finished trees were then hot glued into cotton reels and 'finished' with a touch of snow.

I have to say that it reminded me somewhat of days spent in school overseeing 'cutting and sticking'! 

It was fascinating seeing the differences in the way people approached this. One gentleman's was very precise, another lady's was' throw it all on and enjoy the Bling'.

They all had something to take home to show to friends. Then they settled down to a very good lunch.

For some of them it will have been the only day when they have been able to come out and mingle with friends.

 It's good to be a part of such a morning.

 

A burst of pink.

 It's so lovely to see a burst of pink on my kitchen worktop. Every year this Christmas cactus seems to be bigger and better.

 It was given to me many years ago by an elderly lady who had won it in a Raffle! She said she couldn't cope with house plants.

 It is a perennial joy.

Autumn leaves

 This is all that remains of my lovely cherry tree, which stands bare and leafless. I planted Snowdrops round the base of it, so it won't be too long before their loveliness reappears.

The garden is 'put to bed' now. Roses, still a few flowering, are cut back and mulched. Perennials have died back, Clematis have shed leaves.

 But, and this heartens me, under the earth the bulbs are growing, and I look forward to the tiny green shoots which herald Spring flowers.

 I am slightly envious of my son in Australia who tells me about his Summer garden, and shows photos of vegetables bursting with growth. Even his Winter won't be as cold as ours.

'There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind'. C.S Lewis