Tale Weaver #202 – Evening – December 20th

This week Michael asks us to consider the concept of evening.

Some of us are night people, we love to be up late and enjoy the darkness, some of us see it as the time to rest and sleep.
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Cosy evenings by the fire, curled up on the sofa with the dog at my feet. This was the scene in the cottage most winter evenings once we’d got the house straight, retirement still a novelty, and apart from the eurofighters flying overhead, all was pretty quiet.
Such a contrast from the exhausted pair of adults trying to unwind after a frustrating day at the office. Evenings and weekends were supposed to be relaxing times, but we were chasing our tails, doing something for somebody somewhere else and running ourselves ragged in the process.

Then the cottage became too much and we decided to sell.
It was a nightmare, but eventually we moved out, though initially we had nowhere to go, so stayed with MOH and a few weeks later ended up buying the boat.
Oh, those evenings! No fire to curl up in front of, but peace and tranquility as we’d never known it, Nature on our doorstep, and those sunsets!

 

Evenings these days are walking the dog between 8 and 9 pm, then retiring to bed where we read or blog until feeling sleepy enough to turn out the light. We’re content with our lot and our life.

With Christmas just around the corner, I’m reposting a poem I wrote in 2012.
When we were in Poole, Christmas Eve was our time for doing the Santa run, then we’d come home, close the door and shut out the world.

I think of Christmases long ago,
Holly, mulled wine and mistletoe,
Times have changed so much I know,
But we wish you a merry Christmas.

Twinkling lights on the Christmas Tree,
Wonderful food for dinner and tea,
Oh how merry we all would be,
Together each year for Christmas.

Presents were opened, one by one,
Thought and love packed into every one,
Happy and tired, when the day was done,
Warm memories of Christmas.

Loved ones have moved far away,
Keeping in touch whenever they may
As time rushes on, day after day,
But we think of them all at Christmas.

The street is quiet as we close the door,
Two of us and the dog, never no more,
Curling up by the fire with the ones I adore,
God Bless you all this Christmas.