Diamonds In The Snow

The snow was glinting under a sunny sky.  Like scattered jewels.

And then, there they were at my feet for real.  Diamonds.  Or, more likely, diamante or cubic zirconia or plain old paste.  But gems, all the same.  A bracelet, slipped from someone’s wrist.  Now lying lost on a snowy moor.

I smiled at the sparkling coincidence.  Felt sorry for the loss.  Photographed my surprise discovery.  Then left the bracelet on a nearby fence post….hoping the owner would chance this way again.

Start Anytime!

I’ve been beavering away recently doing lots of clever techy stuff (I am so proud of myself!).  The result is that Falling Into Place, the Dixon Hill e-course, can now be undertaken any time you choose.  Go to the e-course page, click on the link at the bottom and within a day you’ll be Falling Into Place.

What’s more, by the end of this week, gift vouchers for the course will be available.  So, if you’re still searching for Christmas presents, why not give someone else the gift of Falling Into Place?

Alone

There are around seven billion people on this planet of ours.  Over 60 million of them are crowded onto the small collection of islands that make up the UK.

So it staggers me, rather, that I can so frequently walk the moors, utterly alone….not another living soul in sight, though the views around me stretch for miles.

How can that be?

Hungarian Rhapsody

Just had to show you these bars of Hungarian chocolate I received as a present the other day.  Isn’t the packaging enchanting?

Of course, I’m sure you’d far rather I shared the actual contents with you….but the internet has yet to reach the miraculous heights of delivering chocolate into your inbox.  So, for now, you’ll have to make do with the wrappers!

Dead Weeds And Dancing

As I lay awake in the middle of the night, listening to gale force winds and waves of rain battering the bedroom window, I was positive everything in the hedgerows would be beaten to the ground and bedraggled.

Saturday was the night of the annual Christmas ceilidh and, as usual, it was my job to ’do the flowers’.  That meant a morning foraging in the hedgerows….which always sounds kind of idyllic - but isn’t when there’s driving sleet and the wind threatens to blow you off your feet.

Plants, however, are astonishingly resilient.  When I bundled up and braved the vile weather, I found the ivy flowers looking as beautiful as ever and the stems of red dogwood clean and straight.  The conifers were none the worse for wear (just as well ‘cause you’ve got to have those for seasonal scent).  And the dying weeds, being dry and stiff, had stood up to the night’s assault rather better than some of the fresher growth.

So dead weeds it was.  They and my other foraged finds were mixed with shop-bought roses and carnations; and together they watched the dancers whirl the night away.