Monday 1st December - take that, Blogger! You won't win so easily...

 Here we are, at the beginning of a year - heading towards the Winter Solstice. There are hidden advantages to these cold mornings... I realised today that getting up before dawn (currently at about 7:45) means that I can listen to the dawn chorus without having to get up at silly-o'clock. 

I was in the bathroom which is at the back of the house, where the little window is always a little open, and it is away from the oxygen concentrator chugging away in the bedroom, and stood in amazement listening to the birds - not many, robin and blackbird were all I recognised but that will do me nicely.

Now, at 5pm, with sunset having been about an hour ago, the curtains are already closed and it feels warm and cosy. 

I'm looking at the three wise men that I was given last month. They have already started on their journey round the living room, keeping their spirits up with a little sing-song session, accompanied by a miscellaneous choir of felt animals. Here they are...

Oh piffle. Everyone has been posting that they cannot get their photos to load in blogger anymore, and neither can I. I wonder if it's because I'm using my laptop instead of the tablet? I shall type up my typingness and then open up the post on my tablet and see if I can insert the photos. Just hang on a mo....

Yup, that worked! I got the photos in, and I'm back on the laptop. But honestly. Updates. I blame updates.

We haven't touched the chocolate Advent calendars yet, however I've started on the Roger de Borde tree house. The tree and the house could have been assembled in advance, I now discover. Today's real addition is the Christmas Tree.

While looking through my selection of carol books, mine, my mother's and my grandmother's, I found this;

There is a faint date stamp on the cover; 22 JAN 1950. I don't think the children of today would be too impressed. Although, they might enjoy a waltz or a polka, thanks to 'strictly'.

I leave you with the first conundrum from the booklet ... 'why is U the merriest letter in the alphabet?' Answer (if I remember) tomorrow.

The poem in 'Haphazard by Starlight' for today is called Advent Calendar by Rowan Williams (previously Archbishop of Canterbury).

You'll find it if you google; I'm reluctant to post someone else's Advent book online in its entirety (but I do recommend the book!). It is a magnificent poem.

However, on youtube I have found a setting of it - with the words... now I'm feeling rather conflicted... Here's the song...

 Words Rowan Williams, setting David Ogden, sung by the Exultate Singers.

I'll work out what to do for other days!

Sunday 30th November - circle

 I saved this scavenger hunt word until last on purpose. The church year has come full circle; it begins in the first day of Advent which is today, unlike a calendar year which runs January to December.

This is my end-of-November tree picture. One more to go.

Back to Advent; each Sunday has its own theme. Our church is following the themes of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love... I'm not sure if I've got Peace and Love the right way round; all will become clear next Sunday. But Hope is definitely the one for today. The reading in church was that bit from the book of Isaiah, chapter 2;

Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,

    to the temple of the God of Jacob.

He will teach us his ways,

    so that we may walk in his paths.”

The law will go out from Zion,

    the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

4 He will judge between the nations

    and will settle disputes for many peoples.

They will beat their swords into plowshares

    and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will not take up sword against nation,

    nor will they train for war anymore.

5 Come, descendants of Jacob,

    let us walk in the light of the Lord.

That's certainly something to hope for...

If you are Church of England (as I am) and your church follows the pattern in the service book (as my zoom church mostly does) you will have heard the collect - a type of prayer - for the first Sunday in Advent. The originals came from 'The Book Of Common Prayer', written hundreds of years ago, worth considering as much for the beautiful language as for the content. 

(I'm putting the reading and collect here as much for my benefit as anyone else's; if it's not relevant to your spiritual beliefs please just skip over it.)

We hold on to the tradition of marking the days until Christmas; the wreath, put together just in time this afternoon, and the first candle switched on (I always had real candles but...)

And our chocolate Advent calendars ready and waiting;

I haven't lost sight of my circle...

I've been reading a few paragraphs at a time from Ronald Blythe's book 'In the Artist's Garden'. His mind flits from topic to topic like a butterfly. Here is part of the last page for the chaper on November 

He was a lay reader, I believe,  and led services in the scattered village churches near his home to help the hard-pressed Vicar. Hence the comment about remembering to read the collect.

It was the last couple of sentences that really caught my eye, about scything the withered grass, and at the same time sowing next year's seeds. 'Next summer's flowers are counting the days until it's time to grow', just I am counting the days until Christmas. 

Sorry,  I've blethered on a bit... time for a lie down in a darkened room!

Saturday 29th November - scavenger hunt 29; bark

I did briefly think about writing something about the lady who goes past out house every morning with two small dogs in harnesses that pull and stop and go and yip yip yip noisily and hysterically at every dog, cat, bird, man, woman, child they meet along the way... 'No need for that,' says neighbour across the road and four houses along. 'I've told her that as well.' I guess someone was going to say something at some time... He's got a heart of gold, though, and a real concern for everyone he meets, knows everyone's name... an uncharitable person might think he's nosey but they would be wrong. He is genuinely interested in everyone, asks after them and their family, looks out for the older people...

I haven't seen her recently, perhaps she goes the other way now, or maybe doesn't go out so much in winter. I hope she and her annoying little dogs are alright. Perhaps I'll ask that neighbour. He'll know.

Oh, I have written about 'bark' after all. Once I sit down at a laptop (so much easier than tapping at a tablet or phone) my fingers run away and it all just happens.

I posted off my 2By2 stitching yesterday, or rather my husband did, bless him. So I spent this morning resetting my sewing 'wip' basket;

Which had various perle threads, a horrid tangle of embroidery cotton ends left over from the autumn leaves of last month, a biscuit stamp waiting for me to have another go at speculaas (Nigella's recipe gets a 'yes' from me) a felted brooch from Ang, some skeins of floss in Autumn colours, the coloured pegs I use all the time, a tape measure, a card drum of stitch markers for knitting (why?). Stacked behind the felt sewing case are card templates for 2By2, a potential flat gift (hidden out of sight), a tape measure (again why?) and the needle case that should be in the sewing case. 

In other words, a muddle.

Then I turned my attention to the settee where I sit and my the newish table. No pictures; too shameful, and the disturbance to the air as I aimed my phone in the general direction of the tottering piles and heaps of books, printed recipes, letters, pamphlets, and catalogues would have been enough to cause a devastating bookslide.   

Ah. I feel I can sit down safely again.

But oh! the dining room table... 

Here we go again...

I sit and do my stuff on the left, my husband sits on the right. The tidy side.

Poem

A pretty fair summary for quite a lot of November, I thought. But the sun has been out today, off and on... the leaves on the oak at the bottom of the garden suddenly turned to gold...

I've been going back through photographs, deleting duplicated and so on. This was obviously captured from twitter (back in the days before X - that's when I left)

There are times when we need to rediscover words like this.

Chopin (1810 - 1848); Preludes Op 28 no 3 in G, one of the happiest.

Andras Schiff playing on an 1890s Pleyel piano

  

Murray Perhaia on a modern concert grand (probably a Steinway!)

Friday 28th November - scavenger hunt - write a chatty email

 I think I've already done this once this month, but two in a month won't hurt! 

I've finished reading a book called 

'We'll prescribe you a cat' by Syou Ishida. I'm still not sure what to make of it. What I did enjoy is the description of life in the Japanese city. It's so different to England and I find it fascinating. I sort of enjoyed the stories, because that is what the book is, a series of episodes linked by the idea of this odd clinic which treats people's problems by 'prescribing' them a cat. 

I know several people who loathe cats, can't bear to be in the same room as a cat... this book is NOT for them!

It's all a bit weird, and gets even stranger towards the end. Do I like it? I still don't know.

I met up with a school friend I hadn't seen much of in maybe 35 years, at Ham House on the Thames last Summer. We were thick as thieves all through our prep school years, and then she went off to boarding school, and what with one thing and another our paths didn't cross. But we discovered that our original friendship was strong enough to withstand the distance of miles and years. She had been given the book, read it, and passed it on - we're both cat lovers so she knew I'd like to read it.

So that's who I wrote the chatty email to.

Poem

Fog

By Carl Sandburg

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

 from The Poetry Foundation

Music

The 'cat' duet performed at the 1996 Last Night of the Proms.

Thursday 27th November - scavenger hunt; parkland

 Not this...

The grounds of Launde Abbey, near Oakham. We stayed at a farm close by back in the Summer...

But this;

 The view from our front window this afternoon! Our next door neighbours are in hopefully the final stages of an extension to the back of their house. It's been fascinating watching the progress, from the arrival of the digger back in July, until now; and all yhe trades seem to be in; plastering, electricians, carpenters... 

The road outside has been a carpark all summer and autumn. We don't mind; we've been parking in the road to save our car from getting scratched as diggers and skips and deliveries gave been happening. Free entertainment! And all the different workmen have been careful, thoughtful, polite and relatively quiet.

So, we are in 'Parkland', and hoping and praying that our neighbours will have their new kitchen installed and be able to move in to the extension in time for Christmas. It's looking good...

Music

Scriabin prelude op 11 no 4 in E minor. Another favourite of mine. 

Wednesday 26th November - scavenger hunt; house

 I received two different Christmas houses today;

One from my daughter;

This is a Roger la Borde Advent calender. It's currently just two pieces of really stiff cardboard. Every day you press out a precut shape and slowly assemble the gorgeous tree house. Only five more sleeps!

And one from my son;

A cute little battery lantern. I've put it with this side facing. The other side shows Father Christmas but obviously he won't be arriving for a month - yes - just a month from now.

I love thought of living in either of these little houses. I'm also certain that I'd hate the reality! 

Once December arrives I shall pick up where I left of with the Corinne Lapierre Advent Calendar I was sewing last year. I'm about halfway through. 

This is what it should look like when it's finished. 

I remember I had a problem with the Christmas tree scene, and for some reason swapped over the Daddy Mouse and the little girl mouse. I'm looking forward to getting it out again.

Poem

I'm holding on to yesterday's for another day.

Music

I'm still in the mood for Scriabin Preludes, another from op 11. This time no. 15 in Dflat, another one that I still enjoy playing. 

One of the Chalet School books by Elinor Brent-Dyer mentions a pupil learning some Scriabin for a school concert. That's all I remember... neither the pupil's name, nor the piece.