I love snowdrops. Just when January seems endless and grey, the snowdrop appear — a magical all day frost. These were taken during an afternoon *ahem* skipping work when Mr S and I went walking at Kingston Lacey. Kingston Lacey is a fabulous country house in North Dorset, a seventeenth century stately home, more palace than manor. I’ve always loved it – especially after I read Viola Banks memoirs of growing up in the house in the ’20s. I read it when I was nine or ten and stomped about the house when we came to visit, pretending I was Viola and wishing that all the pesky tourists would leave me in peace.
In the last few years they’ve been doing lots of work to the gardens – which even in the depths of winter are rather spectacular.
This is the Kingston Lacey version of a summerhouse — the summerhouse itself is quite similare to ours, only the stately mansion behind is a little grander than our cottage/ hovel.
And then walking in the woods on the way to tea (if only every walk had macaroons and cheese scones at the end) Mr S spied this door into a tree and what we can only presume to be a Hobbit Hole.