It's Snowtime!

Are you ready for some snow?


Or maybe you're already experiencing some where you live? We're getting a snowstorm Saturday night/early Sunday morning, but only about 2 inches, maybe 3. All right, so it's not a true snowstorm, but where I live people will go crazy. The grocery stores will be packed as everyone will rush out to fill their cabinets and fridges as if they were poor Mother Hubbard. I'll probably join the madness, too, as there's something about snow that gives me the munchies!
From February earlier this year, snow covered berries in my backyard:


Of course, snow means Snowman time! I don't know what it is about Snowmen, but I love them. Below is a pic of a small part of my collection, seriously, only a small part.


Here is my favorite fellow. He is Rodin, sculpting "The Thinker".


This next guy is my second favorite. I totally fell boots over hat when I saw him with his bucket of snowballs for sale.


The tasmanian devil and a snowman.


Rudolph and the Abominable Snowman. I dropped him one year, breaking his finger. I didn't have the heart to throw him out.


This little guy can't seem to figure out the lights.


And in case you're wondering, I'm a total Hallmark addict. I'd like to say that I avoid their stores at Christmas time, but I can't. It's like my feet make me go inside and before I know it, I'm spending money on some horribly cute (to me, anyway) item!

Thanks for dropping by :)

~Goodbye Fall~

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the landscape - the loneliness of it - the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it - the whole story doesn't show."
- Andrew Wyeth



Gathering Leaves
by Robert Frost

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?