Green, green, it's green they say....

....on the far side of the hill.....

Anyone else remember that song?  It seems appropriate, considering that I've been cutting green fabrics for the outer border of the neighbourhood.  This is what's been cut so far.

But - there is still lots to go, because in my wisdom (not sure that it was very wise, but there you are) I have been cutting short pieces, and it's a fairly big quilt.  It might be a good idea to get cracking and cut some longer strips, those shorter pieces can be used between the longer ones.

This is Butchart Garden on Vancouver Island, Canada, in autumn.  That garden is famed world-wide for it's wonderful floral displays but when it's not flower season all the tones of green are highlighted, as they were back in November 2012 when this was taken.

Speaking of colour - no doubt you may have already heard that the Pantone colour of the year for 2026 has been released, and after so many colourful years it seems like a cop-out that white has been chosen.  It's been gussied up with a fancy name.....'Cloud Dancer'.....but white is still white.  I always thought that white was the absence of colour - yes?  If that's so, how can it be chosen as colour of the year?  I must admit to being somewhat....underwhelmed.

Here's a site I found which shows the colours of the year going back to 2000.  While I don't care for them all (although I do quite like 2017's colour) each and every one of them is more inspiring than boring white.

For many years now home renno shows have been showing white kitchens, which remind me of hospital laboratories.  Give me some colour any day.  Our kitchen (which came with the house but we like it, so it's been left) is light creamy-beige; it's not brown, it has warm yellow undertones with enough colour not to be boring but is still light enough to be practical.  There is also a fad on those shows to have dark kitchens with dark floors, dark cabinets, dark bench tops.....why, fergawdssake?  You would have to have the lights on all day, and even then you would need a magnifying glass to chop vegies so you didn't chop your fingers instead.

We have had more storms, and a few more small branches have fallen from our front yard tree.  They seem to recover, though, so we won't panic just yet.  Don't want to waste a good panic, do we.

The festive season is getting closer.  On Wednesday my sewing group had our Christmas lunch and jolly nice it was too, while the ukulele group finished for the year on Monday.  One of the members, Chris, gave me a jar of sweet onion chutney that she made herself (which is very nice too, it's already been opened and tried) together with a card, the hand-written message inside thanking me for, as Chris put it, "sharing your love of music with us".....isn't that sweet?  So, that's the end of music groups for the year...but I can always plink and sing away to myself, can't I.

Words have been read.  Stitches have been knitted and sewn but that summer top isn't yet repaired, as time just ran away from me; while the coming week also has some appointments, I live in hope that the top will be done by next weekend.  We hunted and foraged and will do some more this week because, even though there will just be the two of us for Christmas, we can still enjoy some festive foods.  The idea of going out to a restaurant for an indulgent Christmas lunch has been left in the dirt as these days it's way out of our budget, so we will just have to indulge at home.

When you are the person responsible for meal planning, and shopping, and preparation, though, Christmas is just like any other day.  Compared to a meal which someone else has prepared, served and cleaned up here's nothing special about a meal you have had to make yourself, is there?

The One And Only Grandkid has an upcoming birthday.  He will turn eleven next Friday.  We have deposited some money in his father's account so he can be taken shopping and choose what he would like; there is an excellent children's book shop in Canberra, and we are told there are also good toy shops.  We don't see him enough to know what he would like (although you can bet that fantasy/superheroes would feature somewhere, just like his father at that age) so it's better that he makes his own choice and has something he would like.

"How to treat a refusal.

As a woman is not bound to accept the first offer that is made to her, so no sensible man will think the worse of her, nor feel himself personally injured by a refusal.  That it will give him pain is most probable.  A scornful "no" or a simpering promise to "think about it" is the reverse of generous."

We certainly don't wish to be ungenerous, do we?

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer