A very silly Christmas!

We all agreed this was the silliest and funniest Christmas we could remember. We laughed and wore silly hats, and played silly games. Now it's nearly New Year's Eve and we shall prepare a traditional Danish New Year's Eve meal  for family and friends.

I have wanted to blog before now, but we were down in England for the second week in December and on our return I was busy trying to prepare for Christmas. Family are still here which has been wonderful especially as all three of our children decided they will stay for New Year's Eve.

I would just like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their kind and encouraging comments on this blog. I think it amazing to have met so many varied and interesting people and while we may never have met in person I feel  I have found friends in many different places and share many interests.

I wish you all a very happy, healthy and peaceful New Year.

and then it snowed

The lupin needs to learn that it's winter! Yesterday morning I drove to Beauly. Up and over the Dirrie More. This is the road that runs between Ullapool and Dingwall.  In Gaelic, Dirrie More means the long ascent. It rises to a height of 277m (909 feet)
It's only a few miles from where we live but the more extreme winter weather can be found here. I pulled off the road and walked towards Loch Droma  - you can see my footsteps through the wing mirror. I stopped again on the return journey home as the sun was setting. The temperature on the car thermometer read -7°c.  It  was good to come home and be cosy.
This morning the snow where we are has turned to rain and it looks pretty grim outside. I think I'll stay indoors and carry on the cosy theme!

Holding on

A foxglove holding on, despite the onset of winter

Moss holding on

Me, taking a photo, holding on - it's a steep slope down to the bottom of the garden!

Is it the remains of a bee's nest?  It's definitely holding on.

The summer residence holding on, waiting for a lick of paint

Drops of water holding on, until I walk by then they land down the back of my neck

Clouds holding on

A snail holding on

Seaweed holding on - waiting for the tide to turn

I come in here and hold on, waiting for the rain to stop. I stand under the shelter of trees listening to the roar of water as it thunders down to meet the loch.

I love coming to this part of the lochside. It's secretive and tumble down. Time stands still here. It's  overgrown and haphazard and even though I can hear the nearby rush of water the place is still, and cloaked in silence.