Yes, they are, Bev. And you are welcome.

Happy Christmas to everyone!

Another Gazania blooming this week.

Yay! Gazanias Rule! Happy Holidays to All near and far !!

Mexican Heather. Usually annual outside Zones 9-12, but has overwintered three times now due to the unusually mild temperatures.

The pictures are gorgeous and have cheered me up no end after I caught the flu virus that is going around for Christmas! Soon I will be able to get out, if it stops raining after 178 flood alerts and get some pictures.
I was thinking of building Noah's ark the amount of rain we have had, everything is saturated beyond belief.
Hope you are all well and I will soon be of first footing on New Years Eve.
Love to all.
Neil & Sarah.

Yes, please take care, keep warm and have a great New Years holiday!

I bet that your tree fern is loving it.

Here are my three nieces. Sarah on the left is going to be a Doctor, Elizabeth in the middle is in to computers and Connie on the right is going to Oxford University to study geology.
I so hope my Brother has saved up enough as that is expensive. £ 80,000 to go to Oxford alone, to be a Doctor 7 years training unlimited maney.
Hope you are all well?

They are all not just smart, they are all simply beautiful, Neil.

Dear Debra, yes you may think so but I know them! They are all pretty and gorgeous as any uncle would say about his nieces. But the oldest one cannot even make toast, so needs some serious training, before she goes.
I have been twice, so Connie wants to beat my Doctorate, I don't think so somehow.
Now she has to learn how to cook and ride a horse, but as I won the world championship at rowing, she is also going to learn how to row, this will not please her at all. Getting her hair wet in the cold of the River Thames, is not her idea of fun, but is mine!
I really if I had the time teach her Rugby as well, but I don't think she is up to that!
Going to Winchester soon so I will put some pictures on for you all, although if you look up my Articles on this magical place (On ATP), you will soon see what it means to me.
Happy New Year, and don't forget "First Footing," bad luck if you do!
Tons of love from a very wet England.
Neil.

Enough said when you read this!
Love Neil.
Daddy's Poem

Her hair was up in a pony tail,
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home;
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn't there today.

But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why, once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school ,
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees, a dad
Who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in
Back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seat.

One by one the teacher called
On a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
A man who wasn't there.

"Where's her daddy at?"
She heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one,"
Another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her,
As she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher, who
Told her to go on..

And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.

"My Daddy couldn't be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.


And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know
All about my daddy,
And how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories,
He taught me to ride my bike;
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.


We used to share fudge sundaes,
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him.
I'm not standing here alone.

'Cause my daddy's always with me,
Even though we are apart;
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be in my heart"
With that, her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.


And from somewhere there in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.

For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was a right.

And when she dropped her hand back
Down, staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.

"I love my daddy very much,
he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.

You see he is an American Soldier
And he died just this past year,,
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Americans to fear.

But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes,
And saw him there that day.

And to her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise,
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them;
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.

"I know you're with me Daddy,"
to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
of those once filled with doubt.

Not one in that room could explain it,
for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.

And a child was blessed, if only for
a moment, by the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing,
that heaven is never too far.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Oh heck, you made me sniffle ... and now I've got to thank you for taking the time to type that for all that will read it.
THANKS NEIL!

Here is one from a war I was in!

Neil.
Musings on a small war
(Late reflections on a safe return from the Falklands War)

I watched the burials in the cemetery overlooking Ajax Bay,
grieved with their companions; thought of families far away.
There is a lonelier ground than this, so I’ve heard tell,
but where was it to be found? Nowhere this side of Hell.

T.V and newspapers have proclaimed the fighting’s glory;
for those down there it was a different tale; a truer story
of men, not all young, who fought and survived
their unlucky comrades-at-arms who have died.

How to account for each precious life taken away –
is it enough to recall that they did their duty this day?

Tell it so to those families who, in desolation and sorrow,
have given up yesterday’s light for a black tomorrow.
Tell it to men dead in the mud or floating in the sea
but for Christ’s sake don’t try and tell that to me.

Ships sunk; aircraft down; men missing, believed dead
good viewing on the nightly news before the nation goes to bed.
But our news was relief at another day seen through
and hope that the coming night’s fears were survivable, too.

“Hit the deck, hit the deck” is the loudspeaker’s awful call
as we scramble from sleep to the “Action Stations” alarm thrall.
Snapshots of one’s life flash past –
grab a breath and wonder if it could be the last.

“You survived, you came home” the disbelieving voices cried,
“what of the real heroes who did not return, those who died?”
“True” my friends, “no scars to show and our faces are unlined;
but, oh, if only you could feel the wounds gaping in our minds”.

“Would you fight again?” ask the silent whispers of the night,
As I try to forget the apocalyptic visions which are a blight
on my peace. Yes, oh yes, when others of my blood have lost
their freedom, their way of life; and not to count the cost.

War-broken bodies were healed, returned to a normality:
ravaged pysches festered unseen in their distorted reality.
Two hundred and fifty-five men did not return victorious from this war;
almost thirty years on, and lonely suicides have doubled that score.

Nicholas Lutwyche

Unfortunately there are many suicides from our troops in the Middle East. War does terrible things to minds.

The son of an acquaintance served in Afghanistan a couple of years ago. Ended up with serious disciplinary and mental health problems after he had to shoot and kill a 12-year-old boy on a bicycle. Said he couldn't help thinking about his younger brother as he was pulling the trigger. But, the kid was carrying explosives, riding hell-for-leather right at the troops, refused to stop, and there was no other option. Add a couple of other gruesome things he had to do while over there and the result was almost inevitable. He got help and is better now, yet will never be completely well. Who could be?

My former brother-in-law served a year in Vietnam. He is 'former' because, for years after he got back, he would have nightmares. He'd come half awake, think my sister was Viet Cong, and beat her. Almost put her in the hospital a couple of times. Plus, he was exposed to Agent Orange and all of his kids have medical anomalies that every one of the doctors have said are directly related to the exposure. It isn't just the soldiers who suffer.

I understand that sometimes our militaries have to use force to combat aggression. I am sincerely grateful for those who voluntarily sign up to provide that force and support them when they are ordered to go. And I also grieve deeply for the incalculable and unrepayable costs they incur while serving.

Hope everyone is doing well. Took this photo three days ago. First ever bloom.

My avatar us another gorgeous Hellebore hybrid. I love them.