Well, it rained quite heavily through the night.  This morning brought bright sunshine then rain showers.  It's about normal for this time of year.

The trees are loosing their autumn adornments quite rapidly now.  They added a warmth to the scene each day.  Now their starkness will add an atmosphere of winter to come.

The seasons fascinate me when I look at my garden.  There are still some stalwart plants out there, even though we have had frosts and snow recently.

Our skies are leaden grey, with chinks in the clouds letting through the sun, which looks like a searchlight in the dark.

It's welcome, as it highlights the garden and buildings in a light fit for a theatrical show.

As for the rain... it's great to splash in the puddles.  No matter your age.   lol

Have a good day where you are...

It isn't often that my sister and I, along with my ex-sister-in-law and her sister, are able to get together.  My sister Betty lives in Kent, away down in the South of England, near Dover.   I live in the English Lake District. (In the North of England).  My ex-sister-in-law Jeannette, and her sister Mary, live in Glasgow, Scotland.

The telephone comes in handy but it isn't the same as meeting up and spending some time together, as we did in this picture.

We always have a brilliant laugh as Jeannette is a great raconteur.  Our jaws are aching by the time we say our goodbyes.

Jeannette is on the right of the photograph, at the front, alongside her sister Mary.  Me and my 'big sister' Betty are behind them.

It has been too long since we did this that I think we must do it again soon.

I have come back onto Blogger today because at the moment Facebook is so full of vitriol regarding the election of Donald Trump.  There is so much bitterness and animosity threading through some posts, that it is becoming too difficult to enjoy visiting some friends.

I am just not enjoying going on there at the moment.

The above black and white photos are of the streets where I grew up in the Gorbals, Glasgow.  Many a dark evening, after we had used the lamppost as a swing support for our ropes, we would sit under this lamppost telling each other ghost stories.  The inevitable would happen and we scared ourselves that much that we were too afraid to mount the three flights of stairs to our room and kitchen flat. The gas lights in the close sometimes wore out and left the stair well in darkness.  A cry out from the bottom of the stairs "Open PN"  would bring  my mother to the top of the bannisters where she watched us run up the stairs fast. 
This time ' The Beast With Five Fingers' would never catch us.  (Except in our imaginations in our double recessed bed later that night.  hahaha

I must come back and add to this again soon...meanwhile I am trying out a Clootie Dumpling recipe in my slow cook pot and it is just about ready now.  (This is an old Scottish recipe).  Google it on-line if you are interested.

Meanwhile, I am off to see how it has worked out.

This photo was shared from Scotland by the Roadside.  It is not one I have taken.