In my quest to celebrate each season for what it brings, I have discovered I am having to decide what I feel I can use in my home to decorate for times when I did used to rush into a next season or holiday. Normally, I would have my pink and red quilts out. I would be decorating for Valentine's Day. I am waiting until the end of the month to do this and enjoying pure winter instead.
I discovered that I don't have quilts that simply say winter to me. I will have to work on creating one as my wall in my laundry room is currently bare while I decide which quilt will work there. This is because I decided to put out my blue and white items. Blue and white seemed to say winter to me.

This is the wall basket I had my red tulips and berries in over the holidays. It is now filled with eucalyptus, ferns and white berries.

On my folding table, I laid our a crocheted tablerunner made by my grandmother and on one side have my blue willow plate, a blue and white paperweight and a tulip vase with white tulips. This is a Delft blue vase that Jos bought for me when we visited the potteries in Delft a number of years ago.

I found a medium height cloche over the holidays and have used all three here. Under the small cloche is a Staffordshire transferware cup and saucer, the medium has a German small wine jug and the largest a French petit~four plate on a foot with a blueberry wreath. I so enjoyed having the old Singer sewing machine out during Christmas that I left it out and placed some ferns and my ivory opera glasses along with it to give it a white accent.
Have you ever heard the poem "The Willow Pattern"?
Whilst we sit around the table,
Please allow me to relate,
The entrancing ancient fable
Of "The Willow Pattern Plate."
Every picture tells a story,
Like the Willow Pattern Plate,
Where two lovers dwelt in glory,
And defied paternal hate.
By elopement from the castle
You observe upon the ridge,
Where the violent old rascal
Chases them across the bridge.
Tries to catch the rogue and whip him,
'Ere he steals the daughter fair;
But the loving pair outstrip him,
Let him languish in despair.
Thrown upon their own resources,
In a junk they emigrate,
To a splendid little oasis,
Near the margin of the plate.
Dwell in peace, whilst unmolested,
In most perfect harmony;
Till at length they are arrested,
by his Nibs' gendarmerie.
Then the tyrant lord appeals to
Law and lucre, with their pow'r;
Caught, confined, they have their meals too,
In that horrid little tow'r.
When the pair are executed,
To appease their lord irate,
To a pair of doves transmuted,
Still they fly upon the plate.
Every picture tells a story,
Like the Willow Pattern blue,
And true love will reign in glory,
To infinity! Adieu
~~ B. L. Bowers ~~
How are you celebrating winter?