Is there a home that does not transform into something magical when wrapped in Christmas?
At Round Rock, the Village is the first signal of the Glad Season rolling round again.
And then comes the Tree, wrapped in beads and ribbon and frosted with crystal ornaments and sweet treasures.A couple of weeks later, Sweet Daughters finish the last of their exams, and into the house they bring a natural Christmas sprayed with glitter and gold. . .i love these simple silver branches catching the light by the frosted fruit wreath.
Undraped windows are gilded with frosty branches and autumnal acorns sparkling in gold. White, silk ribbons scrolled in silver and gold gather magnolia leaves around the candles.
Sam the Westie, particulary fond of scarves, is robed in Christmas plaid topped by a fat, fringed pompon. He is a dandy at heart.
Small table top fir captured my heart on one afternoon trip to the market, and eventually found its way to the dining room table, draped in the white satin bows and hung with wooden symbols of advent. A cloud of tulle glowed quietly at its base where chrystal angles playing harps float.
Sleigh bells, once placed on the back door, now deck doors all over the house, and the music of the season follows us into each room.
Gilded holly is tucked into Nana's magnolia, and sparkling apple cider waits the New Year.
i love the sweet mess of this picture. My daughters love to cook and bake, and evidence abounds of the type of dishes to be streaming from the Round Rock kitchen soon.
Christmas Eve Dinner was late, much later than we meant, but little sacks tied with ribbon disclosed the first gifts of the Day to come, and we donned new pajamas and sat down at 10 p.m. to a small feast of orange-glazed cornish hens, Julia's corn bread stuffing, roasted root vegetables, and parmesan-garlic mashed potatoes. The plum pudding was left untouched on the side board.
The meal marked the beginning of festivities that ended late Christmas Day afternoon singing carols around Nana and Granddaddy's Christmas tree.
Lovely memories and a grateful heart, Beloved; i hope you enjoyed this glimpse into Christmas at Round Rock.
Miss Bennett: "Books— oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings." 
"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. . ."
"Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. . . For you alone, I think and plan. "
"My beloved is mine and I am his." ~ Song of Solomon
