We waited for the snow to begin all afternoon.
Even the nonchalant Bella got in on the act - casting an apathetic eye toward the back yard from time to time:
Those of you who are owned by black cats know how difficult it is to capture a decent shot where one can actually SEE the cat. She's more interested in what the birds are up to than what kind of weather is coming. It was time to get some Christmas decorations out so I scrambled around and came up with these placemats. My dear friend Amy from Michigan (who is an AMAZING quilter) did the machine work on these for me - she is the BEST! I love these mats, but confess - they've never seen food or spillage.
This guy is missing his embroidered eyes and arms - I'll have to take care of that situation today. Here's a detail of the Christmas bell - how I love paper piecing! I'm thinking beaded corners too ....
These beauties spend most of the season waving from a basket on the hutch. I just don't think that I could bear to see gravy on the front of my snowman or dotting the holiday bell!
I found two of the knitted stockings that have been waiting for their brothers and sisters to join them. Every year I vow that I will finish this project - an entire mantle of knitted Christmas stockings, but somehow, I just never seem to get it together to finish!! Also, each year I have a different color scheme in mind. Hopeless.
OH! Wait! It's starting ....
Each year Harley behaves as if it's his first snow, ever. It's impossible to get him back inside once he's discovered that cold white freedom. I think that most long-haired dogs appreciate the snow and this one is no exception.
I have a ton of things to do - we're having company for dinner. I'm leaving you with images taken this morning, as the sun was rising - silent and spectacular - almost like being in an outdoor cathedral. One suspects that the Great Artist is leaning on his easel and smiling. Perfection.
2 comments:
The mats are so cute! I'd have a hard time using them for food too. Abby loves the snow too. The first snow here is often the last. We're still waiting. She'll be thrilled as Harley though.
People just don't understand here when I say, I miss the snow. This white. the calm. The crispness. The silence. The meditative posture one assumes when one holds that hot cup of tea gazing out the window, counting snow flakes. How the snow defines every tree branch like filigree. Watching the birds flap their wings to clear the snow from the feeders to get to the seed. Watching the husbands, lovers and sons shoveling the stairways maneuvering the mounds just so... Ah, I miss the snow.
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