I’m off to post my Christmas cards and I thought you might like to come along.

We start here of course, at our house. The little pebbles didn’t come with me so the tiny wellies are still on the doorstep.
Onto the village green to crunch in the snow. We had a fall of around 7 inches the night before last. Here are the ice crystals sparkling on its surface.

Past the conker tree to the post box and a pause to admire a friend’s cottage in the middle of a pretty terrace. These little houses were built in the 1600s.

Back home now, to discover icicles on the dining room windowsill.

As a child I used to draw wintry houses with icicles hanging from the sills like this. It gives me a thrill when I see the real thing.

Through our garden gate (stencilled with a spot of snow and F & B) and into the back garden. The little pebbles’ willow wigwam is looking pretty, although I’m not sure they’ll be playing in it today.

Finally, ever wondered what a beach hut looks like in winter?

Here’s Mr P’s office/our spare room with Suffolk pebble and wire wreath above the door. Notice we hadn’t put the garden tools away.
It was at this point, standing in the snowy flowerbed, that I felt a coldness and a wetness in my boot. My red wellies had finally given up after five years - I discovered a split in the heel. It was a good way to end their loyal welly service.