memories

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime.” Laura Ingalls Wilder

New blog post by Claire G – discussions in this thread, please --- Port and Lemon and Dirty Jokes My nan was the type of woman who couldn’t walk to the shop without stopping at least three times along the way to chat to someone she knew. She used to play a card game called Stop the Bus with me...

New blog post by mickleinapickle – discussions in this thread, please --- At first encounter, she slapped me on my backside and declared, “I don’t recognise that bottom!” . Then she skipped away on one of her missions to share a cuppa and a slice of humanity with a lonely soul. ...

Here in the Northern hemisphere the feeble light is ever darkening and, quicker than you can say Jack Frost, it will be St Lucie’s Day; the moment in the calendar when the world's whole sap is sunk. I love that poem, I always return to it at this time of year. There is something atavistic about...