Happy

 March 1st is (meteorologically speaking) the first day of spring and, I must admit, as I shuffled about early doors this morning to let the dog out, despite the chill in the air, I think I could smell spring. Please let the next dose of winter be a brief one....

Walking this afternoon was gentle and a repeat of one we have done over the years - 'the dog loop'. In my last post I'd mentioned that although we'd enjoyed some cracking walks, I felt that it would just be a 'rinse and repeat' story and would be boring. But then I read somewhere that not every walk has to be an adventure or have jeopardy or lashings of humour to make it worth sharing. Sometimes the benign repetition of the act of walking in itself brings a gentle satisfaction and makes me notice the 'less noticed'.

This 'dog loop' has three versions, the concise gallop that fills the brief and fits in with the weather, then the slightly longer one, which involves stiles and gates and fields with space to run and chase (if you are a dog) and views to drink in. Finally the longer version which mean an afternoon has to be set aside and a tea filled flask taken along (with the obligatory accompanying biscuits of course).

Years of walking these 'loops' had made them 'invisible' and the sometimes felt almost like a chore. We dragged small boys, then slightly taller boys then all grown up with girlfriends boys along these paths. With repetition came boredom. So our walks took on new distant routes - further away and 'more exciting'.

Then covid happened and the 'exercise from home for no more than one hour and keep away from everyone' rule. These once little local routes became oh so precious and we walked them as often as we could. We re-learnt their quirks and fell in love with them again...and again...and again. 

Moss - along with probably half the village dogs and others who'd travelled (although not supposed to) re-found new places to sniff and scent and pass on 'peemails' to each other. Suddenly the stone walls had shapes and colours we'd previously just walked passed and just not noticed. Trees were appreciated, hedges and hedgerow flowers discussed, the sky and clouds admired. Our relief at being outside felt priceless.

Any hoo, walking the route this afternoon reminded me of how lucky we were/are that we can 'fall out of our backdoor' and be on a footpath in less that five minutes and in the landscape with a few steps more. 

And it made me happy. 

So, no - nothing dramatic happened, no funny stories, no being chased by cows or menaced by horses. No tea break, no biscuits and no rain.... just simple one foot in front of the other, chilly air and warm hats, a dilly dog and good company - what more could I ask for?

Random bits here and there

Remember last year? - mind you, who could forget ......

It was the year of strange times, new things and new habits.

Like when we swapped eggs for cake.

Fruit for jam.

Well, it seems the neighbours have remembered,

coz we now have a mix of hen, goose and guinea fowl eggs

sitting in the kitchen, some of them are destined to be part of a cake (or two).

I think the request went like this ..... 'cake - any kind, not bothered, just cake, thank you'...

I have a tender arm -

a sticker to say I was a good girl,

a card to say I had an AstraZenica jab

and I am more than happy with that.

I am delighted. 

And very very grateful. 

A small påske træ went up a couple of days ago -

celebrating the turning of the seasons, the arrival of spring

and the beginning of new life.

The fields are full of lambs which is heart warming.

We took a short walk today, just a bit of a bimble.

I have had a madcap plan for a while, to let Moss take us, 

so which ever path she chose,

we would, on the most part - follow.

And do you know what? She took us up a path and across a field we've not walked on for over a year

and we found these. Beautifully made 'fairy doors'.

It was a surprisingly lovely walk, we have followed most of our local paths for months and months now, and if I am honest I am looking forward to fresh trails and new views. I am not complaining - we are so lucky were we are - however a new path would be a refreshing change. But letting Moss 'choose' today's walk gave us a lovely (if rather muddy) change - think I might let her take us again 🐾🚶🏼‍♀️🚶🏽‍♂️

I am stopping now, I can feel my vaccine has triggered an immune response and I feel a little rough, so good night sleep well and look forward to the coming spring and new hope xxxxxx
 

Courage and a year in review ❤️

Thank you every one for joining in through out the year and in particular December's photo scavenger hunt - here is to our blogging community - may we share, support and uplift each other through 2021 xxxx

 

January - A new year, a new month and two finished crochet blankets. I choose my word for the year **'Journey'.

February - Damp, cold and slow. Lots of walking and watching the news about a new virus spreading from the east.

March - The world stops. We clap every Thursday for the NHS, we hide, we avoid, we are uncertain and ill at ease.

April - Our personal world reduces to a very tight-knit and protective bubble. A small furry lad brings laughter and a much needed distraction. He, after all our care and love, returned to the trees and grows up to be a rather handsome fellow. I still see him occasionally.

May - Walking and keeping a safe distance, wearing masks, washing hands and using sanitiser, queuing to enter essential shops. Sharing and caring is top of the community wish list. Gardening is a safe way to care for others.

June - The weather is glorious, we walk miles and miles and miles over hills and moors. Restrictions are lifted enough for us to get out in the van - we choose to keep as far away from others.

July - Our lockdown summer is one of rolling sunny weather and walking. We keep our heads down and our boots on. Walking and gardening is pure escapism from the worry and the uncertainty.

August - Walking, hiding, gardening, thinking - retreating inwardly. Reviving lost skills, learning new ones. Creating as a form of escape.

September - Walking still - using the miles to breathe and to think, gardening for myself and for those who can't.

October -  The long lingering summer warmth fades, walking keeps us sane, gardening still keeps me busy.  Numbers are not reducing, death toll increasing and we can feel our world becoming on edge again.

November - Once again we are looking inward. Crafting and in particular sewing becomes another way to escape. The weather is now definitely autumnal and certainly more wet, walking is less pleasure but still a necessity - it keeps my head from imploding. Never have I appreciated home and garden, family and the internet connectivity more.

December - The numbers are rocketing, new variants of the virus are emerging and despite the promised vaccine relief there is no way this will help at the speed that it is required. The NHS is at the point of breaking yet there are still those who do not believe or take care or responsibility or even think. We are placed in tier 4......

**And my word for 2020? Journey?

It was the right one for me - not only in the physical sense of me walking hundreds of miles over the year but I have moved on from 'all that was not right for me' in 2019 and journeyed into myself and back out - and 2020 despite being a 'year of all years' has been part of that journey. I have come out the other side more whole than I have felt for years.

I now need a new word, 

a new guide for the new year and it will be 

'Courage'.

I hope that I have inspired you to choose a word for your new year - it helped me - may it help you too xx

I can only hope and wish and think positively for 2021, she will need all the help she can get.  Stay safe, think positively and be kind, above all be kind xxxxx

Chrimbly Count down - Tree

Trees - I decided, rather than share stories and photos of my own tree (other than the one I posted last Friday) I would choose 'street' trees. 

Council decorated ones , people's own in their gardens, outside of pubs and churches and the delightfully differing village green trees.  I wanted to share the joy and the celebration of these trees - be they simple white lights or hand made decorations or bedecked with so many bulbs that the tree can barely stand and those with just enough to be classed as decorated.

The trees we decorate in our homes have origins haling from a pagan winter festival where the ancients thanked the gods for the harvest by hanging fruits and gifts. It was believed the gifts would also safeguard the following year's harvest, making it as productive or hopefully even more so.

Some time during the 16th century, so the stories go, a poor glass maker could not spare the fruit to decorate his tree as he needed them to feed his children, so he blew glass fruit to adorn his tree. The legend goes on to say that others fell in love with his work and asked him to make more .... however... the same gentleman apparently ALSO did all this in the mid 1800s - he either was an exceptionally long lived glass blower or the story has been woven through history and mislaid the true origins.

Hanging gifts in the trees was believed, by the Druids, to bring rewards to the giver, so leaving coins or fruits in the branches would ensure wealth and a good harvest.

To the ancients, ever green trees had magical properties and were sacred as they remained vibrantly green all year round.

Hanging bells in the tree seems to have various origins too - one is the robust ringing of bells to frighten away deamons and to call back warmer days. Another was to hang small bells in the branches to call the small woodland faery folk, offering them a safe harbour through winter.

Red apples - be they real or glass - are popular in France as a tree decoration, having a strong religious meaning related to the Garden of Eden.

Queen Victoria's consort - Prince Albert, is usually credited with introducing the Christmas tree to the UK in 1840, however, a full 40 years earlier, the German wife of King George lll set up the first tree in the 'Queen's Lodge, Windsor during December 1800.

Many of the tree decorating traditions originate from Germany, the most famous being lighting up the tree. Legend has it that Protestant reformer, Martin Luther used real candles to decorate a tree in the 16th century to recreate a starry sky after he had been inspired during a walk through a pine forest near his home in Wittenberg. Fortunately we have moved on and use fairy lights ( I am lucky enough to have four vintage candle clips and decorate my tree with them, however they never get lit!).

In the Ukraine, trees are decked in spider webs, more something we identify with Samhain or Halloween. However, glittery cobwebs are associated with luck and good fortune. The story goes that a poor woman and her children, with hardly a penny to their name, allowed a spider to decorate their tree. The spider covered the tree with silvery webs and by the morning the webs had turned to gold, saving the poor woman from complete destitution. 

In my mind the street trees with their simple lights do have cobweb qualities.

Finland uses twisted straw decorations - rather like simple corndollies in geometric shapes. These rye straw decorations often stay up until Midsummer to help safe guard the following harvest.

One evening, on a whim I took my camera on a walk and just snapped trees knowing my camera would just capture the movement of light rather than the tree. 

Have yourselves a safe, gentle festive break - here is to 2021, may she rise from the ashes of 2020 as beautiful as a phoenix - things will get better xxxxxx

Sending love and socially distanced hugs xxxxxx

A 'To-do' list for October

Listening to the rain against the window and the wind howling around the house has made me retreat to something 'safe and familiar' so I am hunkering down in the attic, with mug of coffee, cat, dog and music. I feel at a bit of a loss at what to do - oh there is plenty that I could do, but I wanted .... I wanted something - something different. I did a bit of blog hopping as I sipped my brew and came across a spot of inspiration. To give myself a gentle to do list - so I thought I would share it with you and hope that you find inspiration too.

Sewing

Continue experimenting with thread - I am finding sewing a strange release from this mojo-lockdown I am experiencing. I am not quite sure what was the final straw but I suspect a combination of burnout post art festival, pandemic lockdown and loss of inspiration have all conspired to stifle my ability to draw or paint. It is a strange grief I feel when I think about the lack of art in my life at the moment. I keep thinking that (and several folk have said to me) I will eventually return to pen and paper.... that remains to be seen. Slow-sew seems to be filling that void and it has given me the ability to make and gift things to those folk I love. I am not particularly good at it but hopefully with practice I will improve.

Gardening

Despite my knee and my back arguing for a less physical activity, I love gardening and yoga soon quietens down the dissenters.  Besides I need that physical contact with the soil, to feel the air around me and hear bird song. It frees me, gives me space to think - or not to if I choose,  and it gives me a place to create and at the end of the working day - I can return home, tired, invariably dirty but mostly happy. Now that can't be bad.

I have been working on turning my own garden into a sanctuary for wildlife, I already have a 'no spray/no poisons' policy and have done since moving here in 2001. However, I still have a 'garden', now it is gradually becoming a wildfriendly space with a bit of coaxing and selective weeding and plant positioning.

LINK

Cooking

Now that most of our meals are just the two of us, it is easier to experiment with new recipes - a few years ago I took part in the New52 - trying 52 new recipes over the year and it turned out to be rather successful. Ok - so there isn't that many weeks left of 2020 but I think I will try something different each week until the end of the year.  Something you could try too :D

Write

At the beginning of the year I started researching my topic and although there is still a lot to learn about and to try out, I am now laying down the foundations of a story set during 1910. Admittedly during most of the lockdown I never typed a word until yesterday, when I cracked open the file and re-read what I had written to refresh my memory and reintroduce myself to the characters. Three hours later I was typing almost faster than I could think - I am sure my fingers know the plot before my head does! 

Döstädning

Translated means .... Swedish Death Clearing - despite the rather morbid title, there is a really positive ethos behind it - I have already started with my clearing, and will continue to do so - the gist is.... you spend the first half of your life collecting things and now it is time to get rid of them - leaving your home and your life simpler and easier. For a more glossy version - LINK

Reading

Self explanatory really except I mean more book reading less screen reading. Over the summer I have devoured more books than I have for a while and I have been reminded how much I relish a good page turner.  I favour factual rather than fiction and most of my books either have an outdoor theme or one of otherworldly.

Walking

This. 

Lots and lots of this. 

(Moss told me I had to type this bit!) But she is correct, walking is the best way to keep my head straight and deal with her fizzy feet!!

As far as lists go, it may seem mundane and normal but with the second wave of the pandemic and our area having been on tighter restrictions that other parts of the country and now having to lock down tighter - we all need something to focus on.

So, as I type this, sitting cross-legged on the settee, Moss is asleep next to me..... I think about everyone who is/has/will be somehow affected by the pandemic as it rears it's head once more. I don't have an answer and those that are in power certainly don't have a clue either, meanwhile in all of the confusion and misinformation (deliberate or otherwise) the environment continues to suffer, underhand dealings and shifty politicians continue to thrive and lets face it .... it appears that money makes the world go round (even if it is at the detriment of that same world......)

This is why I need my list.

what comes after a Friday?

Saturday of course

Saturday was a day of three parts.

Part 1 

A warm day, warm, warm start. We had late breakfast on a hill high above the sea. But before we could go down to the water's edge, we had a hill to climb. Well, a hill with several mini hills atop. The air felt thick and dry, Moss went from boggy patch to boggy patch, wallowing happily. By the time we got to the top I was very glad I had my hat and a large bottle of cold water - we managed to find a much needed breeze while we sat amongst the rocky outcrop. We scanned the horizon with my spotting-scope. It was lovely watching distance views, small people and even small dogs on the beach, tractors working their fields, motorbikes trundling along narrow lanes, small boats slicing through the water, trains sliding through the countryside.  Our return back to Zeb was a lot easier, not only was it DOWNwards but it was into the breeze - bliss.

The sea was calling and I was not about to ignore her dulcet tones.

 

Part 2 

We pulled up alongside the beach - a rubbly pebbly scrubby sort of precious strip of land between a carpark and the sea. The air was salty and fresh beneath the jewel-blue sky. The sea pushed out lazy rolls of small waves and cheerfully growing between the pebbles were the smiliest of faces I have seen in a long time.

Moss turned into a selkie within seconds of running into the salty water. I have never seen a dog dive under water and surf instinctively as she did. We worked our way along the water, my eyes just ate the view, skimming over the stones, soaring over towards the horizon, following a skane of gulls flying through the view ... each one a panacea for my soul. 

Part 3

We lingered, the tide slipped out and the pebbles now fringed a wide sand beach strewn with pools of mirror like puddles. The sky turned from a clear blue to a rich apricot splashed with purple clouds making for a spectacular light show.  I made us something to eat and we sat and watched the sun slowing slip down behind the horizon. We dried Moss, wrapped her in a fresh towel, then lifted a tired dog onto her bed in the cab of the van. Packing completed, everything stowed away securely; we looked at the now dark sky, the sun fully gone - time to go home. 

Zeb - thank you for a lovely break - having you has opened our small world into one of many possibilities and advantures. You have given us the freedom to quietly escape and still maintain the pandemic restrictions and you have made a dog very very very happy.

Until next time xxxxx