Saturday, December 25, 2010

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Stopping By Woods

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost, 1923

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Posted by Picasa

Friday, December 03, 2010

Diddle Dee Jam

A big thank you to Char, who brought this cute little jar of jam all the way back from the Falkland Islands. The jam is made from the berries of the Diddle Dee shrub (yes! that's it's name!).
Posted by Picasa