Not long now until the great feast day in all it’s meanings. The mornings are dark now when Paul and George arrive, cold too.
By the time I rise and make my way downstairs the sun hopefully is up and the garden is bathed in winter sunshine. As I come down stairs on these pre-Christmas mornings a bowl of paper whites greet me with their scent , for so long the early scent of Christmas, I have them also in the drawing and dinning rooms. But there is still much to do before the 25th.