The Christmas Market was in town this Saturday, with a display of vintage tractors able to vie with the American Gothic.
St. Nicolas Swiss-style. With a posse of goats or donkeys pulling Santa's cart, he hands out bags of oranges, peanuts and chocolate to the children, traditionally accompanied by the Whipping Father, who gratefully was nowhere nearby.
Esther's Sunday Tresse for sale. These were the last remaining and it was only ten o'clock in the morning!
Inside the ancient wooden structure tiny stars fell from the ceiling, illuminating a roomful of townspeople gathered to celebrate the start of the season. It was all warmth and quirkiness; a fabric so oddly diverse it could only be qualified as enchanting.
Mistletoe for lovers, only I didn't buy any this year having decided last December that the Russian and I ought to have ours all year long; and still it hangs over the bedroom door. ♥