Miss Read, The Power of Chocolate, and Snowflake's Farewell

I was going to put some snow photographs in the post but then I remembered these paintings, they give you a wonderful panoramic view of the village across the valley.   Most days my walks take me through these meadows, up the farm track and down past the cottages.    Miss Read (some of you may well remember her, she has featured in this blog many times)   grew up on the farm in the left hand painting.

No need for the photographs, these are much better.    This is exactly how the village (I would call it a hamlet because it is so small, but it does have a church, so that disqualifies it) looks under a blanket of snow - and here is one of my photographs to illustrate.

We have had a few inches of snow, enough to make everywhere look magical and enough to have a snowball fight or two.   It can go now.

My granddaughter discovered that one of her Guinea Pigs had died yesterday.    She sat on her daddies knee and had a jolly good howl, may even have accidentally wiped her runny nose on his shirt, but was eventually consoled with a cup of hot chocolate dotted with marshmallows and swirled with cream.  

Once the hugs, plus the magical healing power of chocolate had soothed the raw emotions, her mum gently suggested that they should plan a funeral for the little animal.   

Owl Wood has a small pet cemetery within.  My dear old Toby One is buried there, along with assorted pet hens, a cat, a Guinea Pig, and a large wild mouse which the grandchildren found dead in their garden several years ago.

I found a suitable box, Grandpa dug the grave, and granddaughter set about writing a poem about Snowflake the guinea pig.     I added a tiny gold and pearl crown, some beautiful blue glass beads and a few assorted bits and pieces, small tokens for Snowflake to take on her journey.   A small handful of rose petals, ready for scattering, and we were ready to go.

The ceremony was brief, snowflakes fell from the sky as Snowflake was laid to rest.

Love in the China Cupboard

An old photograph of the kitchen table

I suppose I should have written this post before Christmas, still, better late than never. 

The two 1970's dressers which are in the photograph hold lots of china, so does the pantry which is through the door between them.      I often think that I should send the lot to charity, enjoy the empty space, the uncluttered shelves.

However, Christmas is the time of year when I am glad that I haven't given into that particular temptation.    Cooking a celebratory meal for the family is enjoyable-ish, but dressing the table is enormous fun, especially when I start looking in those china cupboards, for they are filled with lovely  memories of people I loved, meals we shared, the celebrations and gatherings.

I always dress the table with a vast piece of sumptuous dark red and old gold curtain fabric - a bargain find in 'Boyes',  many years ago.     I've tried a plain white cloth, but that looks too starchy and formal for my hotchpotch collection of china and bits and pieces...pieces which link my life as a child with my life as a mother and grandma, along with everything between.

Throw on some brass candlesticks, a few pieces of silver, my late mother's dark red and gold china - bought by her, sixty years ago, when we lived in Hong Kong), plus quirky, individual pieces which make me smile, special glassware, whip up a dollop of magic, then serve the delicious (naturally!!) food to the fabulous family and away we go!

How about you - do you go for immaculate presentation, everything perfectly aligned and matched, or are you a messy and sentimental person?   As ever, no right, no wrong. 

Oh, no photograph of the finished table, because I was far too busy to even think about using a camera, instead there is this photo - fairy lights right around the perimeter of the kitchen and homemade 'snowflakes' hung from the kitchen beam, there are fresh holly sprigs on many of the paintings and lots of holly and greenery on the mantelpiece at the other end of the room.   No tree, with a very waggily-tailed Toby, plus two cats who like to shimmy up trees...