Frost and Fire - Rime and Rhyme

Yesterday morning it was really cold, when I went for my morning walk and there was frozen dew - I had to look up the word: rime - on the ground.

A very poetic word, I find, that matches the delicacy of this ice.

In the evening we had the fire going and a line from a poem sprang to mind:

Ah, distinctly I remember 
it was in the bleak December, 
And each separate dying ember 
wrought its ghost upon the floor.....

Dear readers, this time I won´t tell you where it is from, I think you all know, or? tell me... 

And here is a proof of our cosy evenings - and the first time, that the two cat-enemies are quietly together in one room!