I was dusting my mother's photo yesterday (as one does), when I suddenly had a thought that she would have adored our dog Bok.
As a girl she'd always owned Welsh Terriers, but she also loved our little college days Terrier mutt, Hamlet. It wasn't so much the look of the dog that appealed to her, but its character. She and Bok would have got on so well.
I know she would have loved our Christmas tree too. Again, it wasn't that it was expensive or beautifully decorated that made it likeable, but the spirit in which it was erected. Ours, this year, was once again the top off a Leylandii hedge, and it touched the ceiling. It wasn't particularly well decorated either, but it had 'ambiance'. She would certainly have approved of my homemade crackers, as well as, Monty, the Teddy Bear for a fairy.
She would have loved sitting by the fire here. The rusticity of our little cottage would have appealed to her enormously. I can picture her sitting with some needles sticking through a ball of wool on her lap, listening to The Archers, Bok by her side, enjoying the peacefulness of it all.
She would also have enjoyed this Saturday's Wassailing, then eventually sighing with relief as we take down all signs of festivities until next year.
She would certainly have said her White Rabbits, because it was her who made ME say them all those years ago.