The 21st December, as I sit at my desk punching keys creatin the words of book 2 I look out of window, down the garden, it is hard to believe it will be Christmas in just four days time. While the sky is grey and trees bare, the grass is as vivid green as a Summers day. The Easter Island statues not covered in frost or snow, the garden furniture still positioned from the last warm evenings glass of wine. I think of winters past when Christmas was spent in the highlands of Scotland all clad in snow or the Lapland visit when the powder reached our knees. The laughter will no doubt be the same, the wine will flow and the food in mple supply, yet without the snow is it really Christmas?
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Saving the Bridge Houses of Chicago
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My husband and I recently returned from a trip to the great city of
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1 day ago
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