Pefectly imperfect.

How are you feeling as we make our way into the coming New Year?  Are you excited? with a list of new years resolutions, and plans to improve on the year gone by.  Or are you feeling the January blues, a little sad that Christmas is over and maybe wishing that you hadnt eaten quite…

The faces of Christmas.

I hope you have all had a really Happy Christmas.  Winter colds have meant some rest days needed so I thought I would re-blog a post from a Christmas past, with a few photos of Christmas present added in. Wishing you all a really Happy New Year and thankyou so much for following my Peak District Blog.

Through rose tinted glasses.

Another Christmas now is past

a Santa sack full of  memories made,

of smiles and laughter, and love expressed

as gifts were shared, and games were played.

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And carols were sung across the world,

and fires were lit, in houses both big, and small

and hearts overflowed, with emotions raw, and new

remembering those who’ve gone, but warmed by those held close.

And as the days of Christmas fall silently behind

hope stirs in our hearts, of what is to come.

A new year ahead, an unwritten page,

an adventure waiting,

a new journey…….yet to be taken.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL X.

Love Alison xx

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The Christmas Tree…. a potted tale.

I am just sat looking at a rather large Christmas tree in the corner of the lounge, which is just crying out to be decorated. It reminded me of a post I enjoyed writing last year. Im having one or two problems with my blog, and as I cant post new blogs at the moment I thought I would revisit an old one. I hope you enjoy reading it second time around.

Love Alison x

Through rose tinted glasses.

Legend has it that on a cold Christmas Eve in a forest keepers cottage, as the family were gathered around the fire to keep warm, there was a knock on the door.  On opening it they found a small boy lost and alone so they welcomed him into their home, washed and fed him, and put him to bed.  On Christmas morning the family were awoken by a choir of angels singing, and the little boy had become Jesus the Christ child.  Going out into the garden he broke a branch off a fir-tree and gave it to the family as a present to say thank you for their kindness.  Ever since then people have brought a Christmas tree into their homes to remember that night.

This German legend was my favourite out of many different stories and beliefs about the origin of the custom we have all come to…

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Autumn’s​ finale.

As we go from the beautiful and colourful autumnal scenes, to the crisp and chilly beginnings of winter, I thought I would re- share one of last years blogs as a reminder of how beautiful Autumn can be.

Through rose tinted glasses.

On opening my front door this morning,

I saw the beauty of autumn calling,

jewels from heaven falling down to earth,

the season heralding the saviours birth.

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As bronze tipped gold and copper snow,

softly carpets the ground below,

I wonder by chance if the wise men three,

would give a gift of golden leaves,

for a baby king to lay his head,

an autumnal quilt for the royal bed.

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Soon we will leave this season of colour

and open our doors to a season of wonder.

Where children’s eyes are filled with dreams,

of Santa’s sleigh and nativity wings,

and  autumn will be but a memory once more,

and the scene will be new

when I open my door.

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Love Alison x

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A palm tree for Simon.

"Simon hugging a palm tree, Simon hugging a palm tree, palm tree, palm tree"!  that was my anchor thought.  An 'anchor thought' I was told (after trauling through you tube videos of  'How to overcome your fear of flying') is a good way of tricking your mind out of its fearful thought processes.  Each time…

Autumn Rain.

As I’m going to be away from my laptop for a little while, I thought I would re-blog this post as it always make me smile. I hope you are enjoying autumn wherever you are.

Through rose tinted glasses.

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Today it rained as we walked through the park.

heavy burst of colour

falling, swirling, racing.

Fiery red and sunburnt orange

crisp brown, a fire glowing.

Lifted high on winds unseen then,

falling back,

autumn rain.

Cheekily chatting as they roll down the street

Huddled together in random groups

or making a carpet

beneath our feet.

Beautiful drops of autumn rain

colouring our lives

again and again.

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Love Alison x

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Emily’s Autumn.

  The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry’s cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I’ll put a trinket on.     Poem by  - Emily Dickinson Photo by  -…