December days....

 This morning was crisp and cold -- not even ten degrees when I left the house.  The snow is hard now and squeaks as I walk on it.  Hubs was putting out the hay with the tractor as I drove over the hill and saw the cows coming up out of the breaks for feed.  I had the pick-up loaded with alfalfa cake for them. The sheep and the cows and the bucks and the bulls were all happy to see me.

 I've been spending a portion of my evenings in front of the fire embroidering some Christmas gifties.  Sometimes I just sit before the fire and drift, not really thinking about anything in particular, but just staring at the fire in a hypnotic trance.

Do you ever crave one of those all-in-one-pan suppers that is baked in the oven?  I do.  This evening I whacked up a meat & potato pie with a good lard crust on top.  It has been such a long time since I've made one of these and it was *just* what I wanted.  Hubs and Hazel Peach thought it was just right too.

After our supper, HP and I turned the Christmas music on and played with the red yarn and the jingle bells.  I made a jingle bell cuff for her with green wool felt.  I attached the jingle bells with red yarn and then used the tails of the yarn to embroider a little design on the cuff.  I sewed on velcro to secure it to her wrist.  Next Christmas I'll be making three Jingle Cuffs (for HP and the new grands).

After reading Pom Pom's Ponderings about Gladys Taber's Stillmeadow Daybook, I read the December chapter for myself and felt all snuggled into December as if Gladys had tucked me securely into a bed of memories and pulled up the covers to my chin so I'd be cozy and warm with the pleasure of it.  The first snowfall, setting feeders out for the birds, hunting for misplaced Christmas gifts bought in August, cooking meals with spices from far-away lands, cutting the Christmas tree, singing the ancient carols like Good King Wensceslas and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and meditations of the Carpenter's Son born in Bethlehem all speak so very well of December days to me.  I pray that you are savoring the distinct quiet stillness of December.  Scatter joy along your way.