winter's welcome arrival

at long last, yesterday morning we awoke to a proper, thick frost and then this morning, there was the dusting of first snow. don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining about the gloriously long, mild autumn we've had. but we are ready for winter now. the earth and the plants and the hibernating hedgehogs need a proper freeze. it helps them sleep and rejuvenate. we all need a quiet, waiting, resting period. we need to hunker down, to settle in and snuggle up. we need cold, crisp air filling our lungs when we step outside. i've been craving it without even realizing it until it was here.

why does it seem like every season is the best one when you're in the midst of it?

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anna maria horner's new fabric lines are delicious.

and she's so genuine and authentic. 

reading about them on her blog is like a big, warm hug.

an extra glorious hour

the time changed back to winter time this morning. it feels like such a gift, that extra hour. i used it very wisely, curled up under the quilts with my laptop and a cup of tea (precisely the right temperature and precisely the right amount of milk and honey), catching up on blogs and pinning to pinterest.

i'm strangely ready for winter this year. and i haven't minded autumn at all. usually, it fills me with dread, as the darkness approaches. but days like this - glorious, glittering frost - are worth it. and i love wearing sweaters and my furry boots again. bring on the winter!

our 5th annual halloween party was a big success. the kids take the costume thing seriously and now that they're in the 6th grade, they require less supervision (tho' perhaps i should have been in the room to discourage that popcorn fight). they were sent around in the dark on an orienteering run, rather than a treasure hunt per se. it was timed. and at one post, they had to find the letter (they were gathering letters) in a bucket of slimy liver and oatmeal soup that husband made. we always have to have something gross. and there's always a boy who is willing to get his hands all dirty. sometimes even some of the girls are willing. but honestly, there are some things that are just boy jobs.

they're good kids. but even tho' they're good kids, you can still see who is popular and who is not, if only from the looks on their faces when they think no one is looking. they're starting to verge on teenagers, getting slightly awkward and less comfortable wholeheartedly playing. but all of them, boys and girls alike, enjoyed shooting balloons with a bb gun and bobbing for apples. it's good to have these traditions.

this afternoon, we'll go see the new james bond, skyfall. i've heard nothing but good things about it. i'll let you know...

happy sunday, one and all. use your extra hour wisely.

frost on the pumpkin (sans pumpkin)

it's a frosty winter world

our weather is changing - after several weeks of what is for us bitter cold - temps down to -18°C (that's around 0°F) - it's warming up to around freezing. that means gorgeous, still, foggy frost in the morning. whenever i have a wander with my camera in the morning quiet out here in the country,  all the broken water pipes and ugly ceilings and mis-matched windows fade away into unimportance.

this quiet, unbroken, gorgeous stillness is why we're here.

it's all about the angle

i took these pictures the other day, just minutes after one another - one with the sun at my back and one facing it. both include the same frost-encrusted fence, sparkling in the winter sunlight, but it seems there's a huge difference. one a bit flat and bland and one dazzling. and i thought there was some kind of metaphor in it...for how you choose to look at things...whether you face them head on or turn your back to them.  whether they seem positive or negative. it's all about the perspective you choose. and looking at these, it seems to me that the choice is clear.

i'm not done pondering this one. as we approach the solstice, i have this rather pagan desire to have some kind of ceremony in its honor...to set the stage for the season ahead. and i definitely want the season ahead to be dazzling.

a symphony in frost

it is absolutely still, clear and cold. a wintery sun peeks wanly over the horizon, its pinkish golden light illuminating the heavy hoarfrost that has settled onto the trees. the sky is a clear, clean blue so brilliant it seems unreal. the still air so fresh and cold it makes your very lungs feel alive as you breathe it in. and in the stillness of that cold, glittering world, you begin to hear a glorious symphony of sorts which seems to be coming from the frost itself.