December Murmurings and a New Space.


It’s early in the morning as I speed type write this. The dog – otherwise referred to as best-dog-in-the-world dog, (because she is), is curled up at my feet. I made her an egg and spinach omelette for breakfast so she’s quite content.*

The air is stormy this morning, and filled with the perfume of Summer flowers. It’s my favourite kind of day. A day when anything seems possible, and I attempt to spin straw into gold.

Of late, the early mornings seem to be the only feasible time for my scribblings. There’s just so much on chez Rapunzel’s. We’re approaching the end of the school year here, and so Moon has All Of The Things on. And I have meetings and appointments hither and thither, the entire week. By eventide I’m usually spent and crumpled in a tired heap of bed and book.

And I’m such a homebody these days, that even with the goodly and interesting kinds of meetings coming up, I just want to curl up inside my wee hoosie and let the world be mad and busy without me.

As far as Chrimbly preparations are concerned, I haven’t managed a single thing. Not a thing, (pass the gin, luvs). In my eternal optimism, I was going to make a whole lot of stuff. Because I do love me a handmade affair. But there have been a swag of other priorities, and I’m in a pretty good place with all that, if truth be told. It will get done.

I’m aiming for simplicity and beauty – it seems to be my mantra this month.

Also, there are different sorts of gifts, aren’t there? There are actual gifts, made or purchased, but there are also the gifts of one’s energy – one’s time. In this world of not-enough-time, such gifts can be precious. To give someone your time and energy can be a beautiful gift.

It can be a peaceful thing to hold that close when there’s so much hyped-up consumerism going on around us.

And now that the Moon-girl is a bit older, we’re none of us too fussed about the Chrimbly thing. We’re a heathen household, after all. We most enjoy this time together with our books and music and scribbling. None of us have wish-lists. Someone pressed me for ideas, but all I could come up with was a punnet of impatiens, (that probably sounds horribly Dickensian but it’s true, luvs). We just have no desire for a glut of anything, (except blueberries. We like blueberries. A lot).

What can I say? I’m a cheap and easy witch.

I watch from afar all the lovely preparations in the northern hem, with frosts, (even snow), and hot chocolate, and twinkly lights and it all looks utterly enchanting. And if I were there now, there’s no doubt I’d be in boots and all. Because that’s where the whole festival originated and the seasonal context is hugely significant.

But it’s Summer here. I just want to park my broom, spread a blanket beneath the apple tree, and lie back with a bowl of strawberries and a fat book. Then I’ll watch the clouds overhead, and soak up all the blessings of the year. For there have been a few.

Oh, and I’ve opened the door to my other quiet little space. I left a trail of breadcrumbs on the Instagrin about it, but I’m keeping it pretty quiet. It’s my little secret garden. If you care to pop in for some peace and quiet and a taste of my Summer, then you are moste welcome.

Toodle-oo for now. I have to go and have one of those meetings today, so I had best Get On.

Love and warm December wishes to you, m’dears. xx



*Yes. I’m afraid I’m one of those dog people.

9 thoughts on “December Murmurings and a New Space.

  1. i’m never quite sure what to make of people who *aren’t* dog people…or cat people, for that matter, though i am given to understand that many people just don’t like cats much. it’s such an alien concept to me…like saying one doesn’t like flowers. just crazy-sauce!

    i’ve not done much for the holidays, either. on my list of things for today is (sad, but true) “make a list of holiday stuff”. yep. my to-do list says make more lists. i do genuinely love yuletide, and i’m hosting the dinner this year for family and friends, so i expect i will get there eventually. and simple is good.

    you are so exemplary! i have a wish-list a mile long, mostly books. but also, shiny stuff…clearly a former life as a magpie. although, i have sworn that a mort of stuff must exit this house before much else enters it…

    that lying under an apple tree with a book and strawberries sounds so enticing. if that was the weather i had at this time of year, that’s what i’d be doing—twinkly lights and tinsel be damned. they wouldn’t make much sense under those circumstances, really. wintry cheer being born of wintry weather and darkness, and all…which makes me think that we ought to observe the summer solstice better. then we’d have two solstitial holidays, and at least one would feel right for everybody, or else people could flip observances to make sense with their local environment. and frankly, we could all do with an extra season of “peace on earth” sensibility, and such. but it would have to come without all the shopping and madness. we don’t need more of that, oh nononono.

    your new space is lovely—and as you say there, “A small thing created with love is no less hopeful than a grand one.” indeed and it’s not; love, i think, is grand in all its sizes and shapes.



    1. yeah – I like all of the animals : ) Except chimps. I have a thing about chimps.

      And I’m not exemplary – just bone tired. Just can’t think about it all. It’s the time of the year when a year of deadlines hits me like a freight-train, and I just want someone else to come and organise all the Chrimbleness. And Summer – it just isn’t a cosy thing at all, hey?

      I would really like to be in the West of Ireland, in a cosy pub by a fire at this moment. Apologies if I sound grumpy. Not grumpy, just weary.

      Can you magic me some of your lovely Winter cheer…? xxx


  2. your quiet Chrimbo sounds utterly divine. i’d very happily lobby for a similar affair here, but where extended family is concerned, there are those who hold tightly to Tradition and How Things Are. admittedly, i’ve made some inroads into simplification with them, but i’d love to pare things down even further. within our own little family unit, as the kids are getting older, we’re definitely transitioning to the experience/ambience over the getting-of-stuff. so that’s a good thing.

    i’m happy to count myself among one of those dog people. i’m deeply suspicious of anyone who isn’t some-sort-of-animal person.



    1. I do think a quiet Chrimbo will be lovely. There’s not really a lot of pressure on us these days, (and it’s good hey as children get older that way?).

      Possibly I sound a bit bah humbug in this post, I do love Chrimbly – but I prefer a wintry one. With an open fire, and lights strung in the darkness. I think I crave that around this time of the year, here.

      I have an urge to go all hobbit-y! xxx


  3. Would love to be able to peek into your quiet space, tho’ I don’t know the way 🙂

    My teens and I were discussing what it would be like to have Christmas in summer … It’s hard to imagine, for us here in the snow-bound north! For me, so many of the sensory associations with Christmas season are related to snow, and cold, and leafless trees, and the winter stars, and early nightfall …


    1. Hello Ellie, and you’d be most welcome in my other little space. It’s

      And even though I was born and raised in the Southern Hemisphere, (and therefore our Christmas always falls in Summer), I too share many of those Wintry associations. I suppose here we inherited the northern hem traditions through our ancestors, and celebrate the same festivals even though they’re now out of sync with the seasons. My grandma and grandad were often nostalgic for the home of her ancestors, (Scotland and Ireland respectively). I think many of us in this part of the world were raised with that elusive sense of hiraeth. For the years of my childhood, all our Christmas cards were of snowy scenes and cosy Winter scapes – even when it was 35 degrees celsius outside! xx


      1. And don’t forget the Spray-on Snow! Don’t know if you can still get it, but I thought it was the most wonderful thing ever when I was about 12…yes, I too, could have Dickensian windows…even if the bitumen was melting outside!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh how I relate to all you say, Christina! In fact, Christina, I actually still rather fancy me some of that Spray-on-Snow! Heheh…And I know Winter for some of my Northern friends can be brutal, but I’m an Australian who thoroughly romanticises the whole snowy thing, because I truly have no idea about the reality of living with it day to day. xx


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