It's Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve ...
think you get it, it's still a long way to Christmas. So I bring you pre-festive greetings.
I went to our local garden centre, scouting for Christmas trees. But as always, there was so much else to get my attention - truthfully I was there to scout for Yule decor ideas . Apologies for these photos, there was soooo much festive lighting around that the glare was so bright so the photos are awful.
Now this is a good idea. Wine bottles painted and then lit up.
I endeavour to do a Christmas "make" each year. Last year I made wine bottle chalkboards (remind me to post a photo sometime soon). This could be my "make" this year. And I never seem to have a shortage of wine bottles ...
Clever little "fire".
Cosy, this time in red.
And more Father Christmases.
A cute variation on the Christmas candelabrum.
A railway. A variation on this theme is rolled out each year.
And a Christmas steam train. I expect this does induce nostalgia. Which I guess runs through so much at Christmastime.
Some type of nissemand, Christmas elf.
And, of course, lots of snowmen.
Of course, I was so sidetracked by all these goodies that I almost forgot to look at the Christmas trees. But here's the thing: mice. Christmas mice. I saw shelves of cute little stuffed things. I got up close and saw that they were mice! Why? I didn't photograph them. I backed away. But they adorned more and more shelves as I walked around the centre.
Now, I don't think Christmas and think mice. Do you? In fact, I do all I can not to think of the little creatures, but still end up having awful dreams which feature them scurrying around. I don't like them. They scare me. I am fine with spiders. I could handle Christmas Spiders. But mice? Absolutely not.
And this is not a good time for me. Winter. Wet and cold outside. Mice looking for somewhere warm and dry to nest. Cats bring their mice prizes into the house.
Warning: mice lovers should now leave this post.
The other day we had friends round for supper. One of my guests spied a mouse scurrying around by the base of the range. I screamed. I closed my bedroom door that night and left Bertie to his own devices in the rest of the house. I did not sleep well that night. The next day, I instructed my Photographer to "make arrangements" for this mouse. Within an hour we heard the noise that told me those arrangements had been successful. He checked and reported that was so. I slept well that night.
A few days later, in Sussex, in another house with the English Channel separating me from Mouse House, The Photographer felt there was sufficient distance between us and home to tell me that several more mice were successfully "arranged" later that day. That night I dreamt of mice again.
So, getting back to my original question. Cutely dressed Christmas mice. Why?
A la perchoine.