WINTER!!

Winter! The very word chills my bones. Way down here at the bottom of the world, where it is just a hop, skip and a jump over melting sheets of ice to Antarctica, Old Man Winter, that blustery, ill-mannered chap has brazenly blown in. Yep.....he has arrived. He has swirled and swirled wherever he will, tempestuously dispensing his frigid tricks from that over-large bag of his, onto us mere mortals........and Maisie, too♥

I wish I loved Winter. I know there are some of you lovelies who invite Old Man Winter into your homes with outstretched arms and embrace him, chastising him for being away so long.....but I do not. There are some of you who don your snowshoes, your skis; and trudge through snow up to your chin for mile after mile and have the best time, embracing whatever Old Man Winter heaps upon you. Why, I would believe there are some of you who would lay supine, on that white stuff  as it slowly thaws and turns into slush; looking at the crystal blue sky above with a smile on your face.

What can I say?? I am a gal who as a newborn bairn was delivered by the stork right smack in the middle of a Sydney Summer, where perspiration dripped from those who, as they gathered to ooh and aah over my sweet tiny self, they then collapsed onto the floor fainting with heat stroke. As for me, I would not have been perturbed one iota. I would've just gurgled and cooed at everybody, happy to feel the strength-sapping heat of Summer hugging me. Wish oh wish I could be as enamoured with wintertime as you......but I quite simply cannot. As Old Man Winter steals his way into my humble abode, squeezing under the door, I love to crank up the fire and see every little corpuscle of his cantankerous self melt away into oblivion.

Oh, I know Old Man Winter paints the landscape in the most beautiful of suffused colours at wintertime; and though the sky blesses me with sunrises which are more beautiful than summery ones, and the kaleidoscope of bejewelled colours which magically appear as the sun shines on the ice-sheathed earth is a spectacle one would never witness in summertime......it's just that.......it's so darn cold. "But you can rug up", I hear you say. Yeah I can, but it wouldn't matter if I walked out of my bright pink, front door clad in apparel that an Eskimo would wear, I still feel Old Man Winter's icy touch.

I have never liked the cold. It's a family thing. I seem to have DNA which has deemed  that I would always shiver.....just a little. My mum was the same, as was my nanna......so I guess what will be, will be. I will just have to suck it up for another three to four months; don my thick aran knits, throw another log or two onto the fire and follow Old Man Sun's sunbeams around my humble abode, as they shine through the windows.

Freezing temperatures aside the tracery of  naked branches plonked in a glass jar or an old tin bucket, with the background of a ramshackle potting shed, or the sky behind them is always a beautiful wintry sight. I do believe tortured willows are one of my very favourite trees, especially in the wintertime.

What has little ol' shivering me been up to since you lovely lovelies last visited?? Why, during the day, I have been following the sunbeams from room to room as I bask in the warm beams of happiness. Yes indeedy, with my quilting needle and thread....and my Buds in The Basket quilt in hand, I have plonked my gluteous maximus...my derriere on many a sunny chair, enjoying a little hand quilting. Sunshine is one of life's pleasures is it not?? Sitting in a comfy chair, slowly stitching away is truly one of the delights of my days. In the evenings too, I have been snuggling under this pretty, keeping warm, happily quilting whilst watching TV. Aah.....the good life!

I am loving hand quilting this quilt. As I meander upwards in a diagonal line.....down......and then up again, sometimes with wonky dashes wandering off that 'straight and narrow' path, the hand quilting relaxes me; calms me. I seem to get in a groove. I find beauty in the slow, imperfect stitches. Mmm...I wonder if I will ever get the hang of stitching perfectly spaced, perfect stitches of even length?? I find hand quilting tactile. I love the squishy squashy-ness, wrinkled feel and look of hand quilting.  Hand quilted quilts I find, are soft to the touch.

As well as line after line after line of diagonal quilting, I am stitching a basket weave pattern in the baskets and quilting around the buds....all rather meditative.

This last little while 'My Pete' and I celebrated another year of wedded bliss. He and me have been skipping hand in hand along the flower-lined, bendy path for 41 years! AND...some said our happy union wouldn't last....hey, what do they know. Our daughter sent this sweet tea towel and oh, how it makes me smile. I wonder......if ever he will?? As yet.....he has not. =)

Anyway......thank you lovely lovelies for visiting my little wintry world♥ As always the thought that you have visited me and read my musings has delighted my heart once again. May you who live way, way up there enjoy your summery warm, sunshine-filled days and I way, way down here will remember that there is much beauty to be seen and to savor in my wintry days. I will do my darndest to keep warm. So very thankful for toasty, cosy fires, knitted aran woollies, pretty cups steaming with hot ambrosial tea and warm quilts that cover me as I slowly hand quilt. As it is Sunday tomorrow, I feel a little snuggling down with some hand quilting will be enjoyed in the afternoon and into the evening.

Until the next time............

Linking up this week to Kathy's, Slow Sunday Stitching.

Tassie wintry mornings are what magic is made of!

Winter is in full swing down here at the bottom of the world. Both Maisie and I haven't let the frigid and icy fingers of Ol' Man Winter and Jack Frost dampen our desire for our early morning walks.  My trusty spaniel is always up for an early morning adventure. Indeed, if you don't drag yourself out of your cosy bed jump out of bed in the wee hours of the morning, you miss the magic of those early dawn skies. For if you are laggard, the drama and enchantment of the early skies can disappear in an instant.  The majesty appears for but a moment and then vanishes the next. And.....believe you me the skies, just before Ol' Man Sun peeps over the horizon and slowly arises is not to be missed. The theatre of the skies at first light; luminous, lucent, prismatic; is truly one of the most spectacular sights to see......and I might add, free for all to witness.

Most mornings me and my faithful shadow set out at first light with the waning, milky moon smiling down at us in the predawn sky. It sits there glimmering faintly, a slowly disappearing beacon as our footsteps crunch upon the ice-sheathed ground below us. I love the sound of footsteps upon the white shards of ice encrustations which smother the earth below. We stroll along many different paths. We follow the patterns, the dancing light in the sky. There is hushed beauty everywhere. Just Maisie and me, and the cows sleepily looking at us. Sometimes there is the very occasional sound of a faraway car journeying to it's owners place of work. There is not a soul in sight......even the farmers are a no show.

Some mornings are shrouded in the most beautiful mist. Love, love, love wintry mornings that are aglow in a veil of ghostly, opaque fog. Love strolling along the path with the blurred silhouettes of ancient, giant trees looming in the shadows. I almost expect to see a gothic character, akin to Heathcliff emerging from the mist........but then I remember, silly me, my Heathcliff is home tending the fire, keeping the home fires burning and cooking breakfast. =)

You never really know what beauty awaits you. Some mornings the skies are blue as blue and some mornings the sunrise paints exquisite, pigmented clouds as the sunlight dances through the sky.  Winter skies where clouds are splashed here and there are my favourite as the vibrant, impressionistic nebulous masses are astonishing in their chromaticity. Is it my imagination but do Winter and Autumn skies appear more spectacular than those of Summer and Spring?? I don't think so. I read the other day that there are scientific reasons why the skies appear more intensified in Autumn and Winter, but frankly as I am no scientist I could not begin to elucidate to you the scientific facts.

Then Ol' Man Sun peeps over the hills and the astonishment continues, bringing a brilliance to the dawn. Each sunrise fills me with awe at the light show before me. A light show filled with colour and pattern casting sunbeams everywhere illuminating all around me. I stand in my open air cathedral, always marvelling at the artistry and majesty of my Heavenly Father.

Each morning with the distant opalescent hills before me, as I witness yet another miraculous sunrise I am reminded of Psalm 121, my favourite, which says: 

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, whom made heaven and earth..........."

Beautiful rhythmic words, beautiful assurance; words which humble me, words which I hide in my heart each splendorous morning as I experience the grandeur of this landscape.

May each one of you marvel at the wondrous miracle of each new day. From this frozen but beautiful li'l corner of the world, wishing all you lovelies a most beautiful weekend.

Until the next time.............

Linking up this month to the lovely Soma's Wandering Camera