"Oh, gosh, do come in out of that snow ...". That's probably how we'd begin, if you called in for a little cup of something with me today. "It's just a shower - one of the very few we've had this winter" I'd tell you, and we'd probably roll our eyes and smile at each other as you shook the drops from your coat and told me how miserable you found the weather here, or what's it like where you live.
We'd walk through into the kitchen and I'd see you glance at the table, bestrewn with foliage and seed packets. "Clearing out", I'd say apologetically. "Trying to shorten the chains on the hanging basket. The seed potatoes?". And then, as I flicked the switch on the kettle, I'd explain ...

... how we had a day away last weekend when my brother came to be with Dad, and had been inspired by a National Trust kitchen garden to think how we might - in the absence of the allotment - try growing more at home. Himself loved this unusual variety we had several years ago, though our record on prolific potato culture is not a good one. (Remind me to tell you of The Great Shrinking Potato Disaster sometime).
You'd notice my slight lack of conviction, and I'd tell you I'm thinking more of lots of quick-growing varieties of lettuce and green stuff. By now you'd be wondering if I was ever going to make that drink, and I'd offer you a tea, or a coffee or my home-made version of a glorious Hot Spiced Apple Juice I tried on Saturday in a café full of penny farthing bicycles ...

And as we wandered up the half-flight of stairs to the living-room with a tray of cake, Lebkuchen (amost finished, alas) and some little oranges, we'd chat about our favourite cafés and tea-rooms and what makes a really good one: the quality of the drinks? the attentiveness of the staff? the quirkiness of the décor? Pulling our chairs up to the fire, you'd tell me all about your favourite one. I'd share with you, as we warmed our toes at the multi-fuel stove and I opened the door to pop another log in, how we'd bought our stove in a second-hand bookshop-cum-stove shop. What a great three-floored cosy sanctuary, complete with rocking chairs and rugs! Himself was surprised I ever agreed to leave and come home with him.
And from there I suspect we'd meander through bookshops and crafts shops, and arrive at creativity and what we're each doing this year. I'd love to hear if you've set off in a new direction, or whether you've following through something you've already started? And if you asked me, I'd tell you that my One Little Word this year is Wild ...

... and that I am already enjoying the way it is helping me, when I can sometimes feel a little confined, to roam and rove in all kinds of ways, and how my word seems to keep jumping out at me wherever I look - does that happen to you? As if antennae are sensitised and things which would usually slip past unnoticed are standing up and waving furiously for attention. And as I offered you the last of the Christmas cake, we might ponder how many of us are engaged in de-cluttering and simplifying body, mind and home and, a little embarrassed, I'd have to admit I'd never heard of a Fitbit till this week! I'd ask if you had one and whether you thought it was worth it ...
Glancing out of the window, we'd notice the snow had stopped and it seems a good moment for you to make a dash for it before the next cloudbank rolls in ominously over the hills. As we step out into the chilly air and walk up the path, I'd steer you past the mossy patch (note to self - get this sorted!) and you'd pull your scarf around your face. Then - with a quick hug or squeeze of the hand - we'd promise to catch up again soon and keep in touch in the meantime. I'd wave you off, so glad you'd come and hoping you'd want to pop in again ... :)
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This lovely meme is hosted by the talented Abi, over at Creating Paper Dreams; if you haven't already called in, do get a mug of something nice and settle down for a clutch of wonderful reads :).