Wednesday, 24 December 2008

Peace on Earth

Time to wish all my friends & family, 'virtual' or otherwise a Merry Christmas and as always, give thanks for reaching this point in the year in good health if not always, good mind. But, I count my blessings and hope you & yours have reasons to be grateful also.

In lieu of having anything decent to say, below is my absolute favourite poem. I can't remember if I posted this last year, if so I make no apology. And whilst the theme is bleak (google it if you want an academic take on it's meaning), it paints a different, more superficial image in my mind.

And what would Christmas be, without superficiality?

Merry Christmas one and all. Love from Betty.

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.
Robert Frost

Sunday, 7 December 2008


Trees are your best antiques ~ Alexander Smith

Monday, 1 December 2008


When I was little, I used to get the most incredibly homesick on the rare occasions that I was ever away from home. I guess it's not something 'grown-ups' tend to talk of, particularly those of us away on business, but the sensation is still there, sometimes. In the most part, it manifests as broken sleep, weird 'reality' dreams, etc. Over the years, being away from home for work, comes with the territory.

This evening, sat in another hotel room, due to the wonders of technology, I can chat with a friend, who like me is also away on business. We talk about her daft Dad and the perils of spam emails. I make coffee. I call home and chat through the details of the day, between yawns - a long day at both ends of the phone. My brother emails me about fixing Mum & Dad's computer. I watch tv. I listen to music. I eat. And I have time to breathe.....think......write.

But it's not home.