I watched the dawn again - quite easy, as it is still dark at 7 am, and we are tending to wake at about 6 which is not our preferred hour. The world outside my bedroom window is actually much more colourful before the day begins;
Once dawn had become day the sky was a uniform grey, the roof tops brownish grey, and the tree opposite a greenish brownish grey, not as bright as the picture.
Some lucky people woke up to snow - someone tweeted a picture of their garden with the caption 'Narnia', looking something like this;
(It's a bit of a conundrum how to draw white snow on white paper - I've put off trying to paint the snowdrops coming out in the garden for the same reason)
According the to weather report at lunchtime there is a slight chance we may get snow for New Year's Day. I'm not getting my hopes up...
I never did finish posting all those pictures of weird and wonderful teas from my Advent calendar. I have now tried nearly all of them, except coconut and chocolate tea which went straight to the worms in the compost bin. I even drank the beetroot tea - a pretty pale pink, and tasting mostly of orange. I have reverted to English Breakfast.
It's a bit annoying that the Twinings tea bags, of which we appear to have several hundred, can't go straight into the compost after use. Last year's compost is full of skeletal vestigial teabags, ghosts of tea-times past. Now I carefully tear open the bags and tip the leaves into the teapot and chuck the bag into the bin. As soon as I have drunk another 100 cups of tea I shall change brands. Or just stick with loose tea - even tea-bag tea tastes better when released from the little bag.
A pot of tea is a statement of love and warmth and comfort, in a way that a mug of tea isn't.