Friday, December 14, 2012


No, we don't have cloud berries or boysenberries or ripe rosy raspberries down here in The Lucky Country, here now towards the Solstice, if we ever do.
There are reddish things, here and there, and bits that glitter and look sort of good, or that look like bits of metallurgy gone wrong, with some bits of red curtain thing stuck behind them.
There is silveriness and jubilation. I miss the idea of a Christmas that's snowy and cold. Here, the sun glitters and most of us let our propriety go somewhere where it will fit, wherever that might be, Mr Claus.
Christmas, this bit of the planet, means time away, time out, time to do nothing, except muck around. That's where I excel.
What on Earth, has this to do with Christmassy things? Exactly. You almost wouldn't know it was Christmas here, except everyone says it is. This is only a new picture I wanted to share, nothing red and green and saintly at all.
Feeling I'd let the team down, I got out there this evening and constructed a very humble sort of Christmas wreath for the front door. The embarrassingly ordinary front door.
I know some of you live on vast country estates, with hounds galloping in their hordes, and international personalities fronting up for various liveried entertainments under bespoke canopies. Unfortunately, I do not. Loving gum leaves, sort of gushing out roughly... is my way of saying Willkommen, welcome, even if the grey-mauve is just a little bit daggy.
 I might as well include this rather hazy shot of a bit of a tea-pot, as looking like a bit of Christmas.
It's been drizzling all day, a lovely, refreshing rain, wetting everything that had got burnt and worn out. The feel of the ground and the grass, with all the unknown things there crawling around, has been marvellous. Forgive me, I slip into my pyjamas at dusk and prefer to live in them than in any other costume, including the Santa one.
My lovely girl, Zara, has been snoozing tonight, but asked to be let out with her lamb bone in-mouth. Here, she waits for me, while I dag around, making photos. I don't know how kosher or PC this is, but Christmas is a feeling I reckon we should all have every day, not just when the calendar tells us to.


  1. your ordinary front door - is quite unique to me. It appears to be wearing a hounds-tooth check? How intriguing!

  2. The houndstooth is only a trick of the light/camera I'm afraid, Diana. Now why didn't I get some very smart designer in to make that happen?

  3. I like the front door arrangement but I can't imagine Christmas in the summer. Do you ever get used to it?

    1. James, it's all I've ever known. There's something wonderful about the heat, actually. My family always does a traditional hot Christmas lunch, the last thing you think you need, paper hat on head, sweat sliding down your legs at the dining table...but then, hang on, the compensation is we don't take most things too seriously. It's the remembrance, perhaps, that's the thing, DESPITE the heat.

  4. I've very much enjoyed all your wannabe Christmasy things Gardener, and being another who prefers pj's over any other clothing I find it's these little simple things that count so much.
    Your wreath reminds me of ones we used to have of eucalyptus leaves when we lived in California's Bay Area.

    1. Rubye Jack, I have to confess the PJs come on BEFORE dusk, like as soon as I can, possibly HOURS before it gets dark. Yes, it IS the little things that make you laugh, that hold you up, that give you a break.
      I'm aware alot of Eucalypts thrive now in California, as they do in parts of Spain and Africa. My favourite trees.
      I'm hoping you have a wonderful festive time. Faisal.

  5. yes. kosher or p.c. be damned. whatever it is, it should be daily.

  6. Yes, we can't live for ourselves but for the world we encounter and the precious people in it.