Just time to wish everyone a Happy Christmas and a thank you for reading this blog in 2018.
This silent night is Pixie and Pocket and was photographed by daughter Phoebe.
Not so silent is the one eyed Rocket - seen here checking out if Father Christmas is really coming and will he be getting anything that's wrapped up because he likes the paper best. He has already taken a present out of its jiffy bag and unwrapped it himself, hiding it under his bed and it wasn't even for him. This morning he stole the Green and Black's off the bed of our guests staying in the Pink Tower and was seen running around the house with a red glass bauble in his mouth. This christmas may be a bit trying. He seems to think he is a bi-ped and now can reach everything by just standing on his hind legs- the butter, the cream pot, the bread ...and we haven't even got to a turkey yet.
So I asked Pixie if she could be bothered with an interesting fact as it was nearing Christmas and she tells me she's on holiday. However she did eventually oblige and her very interesting fact for this month is that Rudolph's red nose is more than likely the result of a parasitic infection of the respiratory system.
And Pocket - who couldn't even be bothered to get out of his box said In time we hate that which we often fear. And I said Shakespeare said that. Anthony and Cleopatra Act 1 Scene 3. and he said exactly.And I said surely you don't hate Shakespeare? and he said Shakespeare? You don't expect me to read as well as do everything else do you? And I said what exactly is it that you do do? And he scowled at me and said he did a little light dusting. I said Really? Look at all those cobwebs above your box - you might have tidied them up and he said they're there to catch the flies so I'm doing you a favour.
I'd have to look back over all the posts in the blog to see what has happened this year - but it has gone quickly and we lost some friends.
So with the help of Chloe (other daughter)'s beautiful art work of one of the many rooks rescued this year including Croaky and Colin from Gosport I wish you a very Merry Christmas.
The Oxen
BY THOMAS HARDY
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
“Now they are all on their knees,”
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
“Come; see the oxen kneel,
“In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,”
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
