A waft of eucalyptus

A bronze of a horse standing in our hall

The spring flowers were dancing bizarrely in the autumn hedgerows this morning tossed by the wind and the sure smell that Christmas was approaching - the scent of newly harvested Eucalyptus on the breeze as we passed the flower farms tucked away in the small sheltered fields as of Rosudgeon.

Danni's morning exercise complete it was time to start thinking about our weekend guests, tidying the debris in the garden that builds up every time I look away. Charles was under threat that the lawn needed mowing but luckily for him the blacksmith has come to shoe Danni so they are tucked up in the barn out of the wind. By tomorrow i will race for the supermarket stopping to choose the flowers in an agony of indecision, will it be a red or Apricot or Pink .......maybe clear white and they will find their way on to the dressing tables ready for shhh a birthday i believe. The fountain to fill and the gravel to rake all ready for the weekend and the heady smell of Eucalyptus says it will be Christmas soon.