Midwinter

Midwinter. There's something about this word that I love. It conjures up images of frosty days,  glowing fires, berried greenery, dark woods, shadows, ghost stories and above all quiet. The winter solstice, when it comes is for me very welcome, and is a moment of stillness amid the madness of pre-Christmas celebrations. Having said that, today here at the House with the Blue Door is a busy day of tidying, cleaning and generally making sure that everything is ready for Christmas, and our guests. Nevertheless, I am making sure to light some scented candles and reflect for a moment or two on the fact that we're at the darkest point of the year, and that the days will now get lighter as the earth starts to turn towards the sun - hooray!

Yesterday P and I went shopping in Frome, a pretty town not far from here. I had a very productive time buying some last-minute presents and finally some berried greenery. There doesn't seem to be much holly with berries on it in the florists at the moment, but I managed to find some.

Here I am looking very pleased with myself after finding some mistletoe, rosehips and red-berried foliage.

As it was almost lunchtime, we stopped off for coffees, and a mince pie for P and a pastel de nata (one of my favourites) for me. Very nice too.

 While we were shopping I bought this little collection of 10 poems with an evergreen theme, and am looking forward to reading them with a cup of tea later.

I do so love the different shapes and colours of winter greenery. It's just as lovely as spring and summer flowers, but is very different - more structural and striking, and the berries are so bright. I'm especially fond of mistletoe. Its simple green and white combination is a beautiful contrast to all the rich and sparkly colours of Christmas. I also like its connections with our distant past, and the fact that it grows in orchards on apple trees. It's a fascinating plant all round. 

In my little midwinter arrangement is also some winter-flowering honeysuckle which I grow in a pot next to our back door. When the year is at its drabbest and spring still seems so far away it's gorgeous scent is a treat when I'm popping outside for something. I stop and inhale its sweet scent on the cold air and think of warmer days to come.

Here's some more winter greenery, spotted on a recent run in the woods. I love the shape of ivy very much and was particularly taken with this rather pointy-leaved plant. There's still so much to enjoy outside at this time of year if you look for it.

Right, better get back to the Christmas cleaning now! See you soon, and happy solstice! x

The Shortest Day

Hello again, and thank you all for your kind comments - it's very nice to be back. Now that we have broken up for the holidays a sense of comparative calm has descended, and already we have reached the shortest day. I love the winter solstice, with it's cold, clear skies and promise of longer, warmer days to come. You can read about why I enjoy this time of year so much here and here.

It's all about light and the celebration of its return at this dark time of year, and I do love to light candles, making the house cosy and warm.

Returning home on a dark afternoon, putting the heating on and switching on the Christmas lights is such a pleasure. I love to make things look twinkly and welcoming when the light levels are so low outside.

There's some greenery and foliage too, to brighten our home with growing things. The hyacinth smells wonderful.

This week I've had time to concentrate on home life and have been busy with our Christmas preparations. At the weekend we went shopping in Wells, and I felt the usual sense of peacefulness that this beautiful place induces. It's medieval architecture is just right for me at Christmas time.

I imagine centuries of people sitting on this worn window seat.

Above our heads starlings were chattering and roosting in the trees as light levels fell.

I hosted a little get-together earlier in the week with four of my best friends who I've now known for over two decades; a festive craft session in which we made some table decorations and clove-studded oranges. I gathered lots of greenery from the garden, having already bought some mistletoe and crab apples. Here it all is ready for my guests. 

I added heather from the garden this year, as well as purple callicarpa berries, cranberries and some bright red and white candles.

We drank mulled wine and ate mince pies and snacks, and it was all very jolly and convivial. 

So jolly and convivial, in fact, that I completely forgot to take any photos of the event itself! Here instead is my finished table centrepiece, with some added feathers brought by one of my lovely guests. We made clove-studded oranges too. Their fragrant, spicy scent is the smell of Christmas for me.  And with the left-over foliage I'm going to make a wreath for the front door.

Hope you're finding some time to relax during your festive preparations too x

Midwinter

I can't believe it's a year since I made a midwinter post. Time flies, doesn't it? The days are short now, and it starts to get dark in the middle of the afternoon. This photo was taken in my garden this weekend just after 4 o'clock as the light was fading on a sunny afternoon, and the moon was already high in the sky.





 For me there's something magical about the winter solstice, when the hours of daylight are at their shortest, and I mark it with greenery and candlelight. It's a time of imagination, reflection and introspection, as well as looking forward to longer, lighter days. How welcome they will be! The winter-flowering honeysuckle which grows by our back door is already in flower and smells wonderfully sweet. I added it to my midwinter arrangement, a mix of whites and greens.

I have treated myself to 'The Mistletoe Bride' by Kate Mosse, a collection of ghostly, wintry tales, just perfect for snuggling up with by the fire on a dark day. I'm easily spooked, though, so not great for bedtime reading I think.

I'll leave you with these midwinter lines (although the weather we have at the moment does not reflect what's described here, as it's rather milder): 

'In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron
water like a stone'.

Christina Rossetti