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?

Midweek walking

There is a lot to be said for midweek walking. While the year is too early in the growing season to start up my round of private gardens, I have the delicious (if poorly paid!) delight of two days a week spending time with these two....

The bog trotter who delights in finding every.single.muddy.path.or.pool.or.trench and then sampling the contents by jumping in..... Happy little dog......🙄

And the husband. 

He and the dog outwalk me every time, but years ago I learnt to slow down and walk at a pace which was good for me. Himself calls it 'cat-walking' when I stop and stare, take photos, breathe the air and just be - me.

This particular walk took us up and over Hare Lane (although not a single hare was spotted - the air was a bit too raw and I suspect all the hares were hunkering down out of the breeze) then down into the neighbouring village where we sat and nibbled on super rich and super sweet valentine's day fudge. Both of us wishing we'd brought a flask of tea to dilute the fudge but still savouring the wicked sweetness of the chunks.

Then after nearly three hours of walking while being blustered about by the wind, we returned home. The kettle went on (we were still in need for that mug of tea) and we sat, feeling battered by the weather, quietly recovering.

Thank you for your lovely comments on my last post - they do mean a lot! And, my parting shot for this post is a photo of the info board I put out at work when the gate is open to invite folk in to visit the garden .... we are definitely in a Fool's Spring - I'm just waiting for the Second Winter to land with a mighty bang!

Tuesday spotlights🤍🤍

The tips of my fingers are still cool as is the end of my nose. The two digestive biscuits and mug of tea tasted amazing once we'd returned from our afternoon walk but are now long gone. The snow and ice that covered the ground first thing this morning (when my car thermometer registered -4.5℃) had begun to melt creating a green and white marble patterning on the grass.🤍💚

Our village has several prominent hills surrounding it and they were all still flecked white and draped in misty layers beneath the dark and heavy skies. Despite that, the sun managed to find chinks in the clouds and fill our walk with warmth and light.💛🤎

Himself, Youngest, Moss and I did our local 'dog-loop' which is our go to short walk when weather permits. 🧡❤️

I am sure - almost 99% sure - that I have spotted our first Highland Coo calf but the mum was a large and hairy barrier and all I could see were little legs beneath her tum. No lambs yet - far too cold to give birth outside and the ewes that are out in the fields are still 'mums-with-tums'!

It is dark now, Moss has been fed and is gently snoring while she dreams dog dreams, Himself is in the kitchen baking an apple crumble as I type here. After a rather long morning of completing on-line mandatory training - it is little precious moments like these that make my day.💙💜

Hope you have had some of those today too (and I don't mean the mandatory training!!)

Sunday Sunday - so good to me

After days and days (and days) of rain or chilly winds, today is clear and still and although still cold, in the sun it feels warm!

We leave the cosiness of the house and woodburner and set off for a Moss-led dog loop. It seems that other dogs and their owners had felt the same pull - to be out and getting some air! We walk up 'Dead Duck Lane' - not in our usual yomping style as we try to forge our way through the weather, no it is far more meandering. We stop to see if any of the local sheep had lambed and although they must almost be at bursting point, the ewes determinedly chew winter weary grass in the soft sunshine.

We carry on up on to another lane, around another sheep field, past a large house with a small and rotund elderly jack russell. A raspy yip yip was all it can manage then it sighs at our lack of respect and toddles back to the house. In it's 'hey-day' it was a nasty piece of work with reputation of 'quick to bark-quick to bite' which unfortunately landed it's owner is 'the dwang' when they requested a home visit by a doctor who on arrival discovered that not only was the owner not at home, but was then both barked at and bitten by the jack russell. Suffice to say - the doctor wisely got back in the car, drove back to the surgery and rang the owner and had a word or two.....

We continue to follow Moss up a narrow farm track with large and mature trees full of holes and splits and hollow trunks. They are fragile and venerable and beautiful. Sadly I can see that once they start to fall, they will not be replaced. I stroke their grizzled old bark as I pass. I am sure I can hear them whisper their stories to the wind.

 Despite the quantity of rain we have had, the fields although wet are surprisingly mud free. Moss makes the most of the seasonal ponds and drags Himself through the centre. 

This field is also full of expectant ewes, so Moss remains on her lead and because she can not gallop up to the next puddle we can watch a small and garrulous flock of gulls bathing in the fresh water or 'puddling' for worms as they trot on the spot until they can catch a witless worm.

The fresh air, which when we first set off felt icy and sharp, now feels invigorating and restorative and the soft sunlight gently bathes a wintery landscape in an almost translucent peachy glow. Popping up here and there are bright green blades of various bulbs - a bit too soon, their enthusiasm will wane next week when the temperatures are forecast to plummet. Here is to the ewes who will hopefully be indoors soon when they are due to lamb.

So, another weekend has slipped by. We have had Youngest and his lovely girl staying with us for a couple of days - now, Sunday evening, the house once again cosy and warm with the fire keeping Moss in a state of molten fluff as she basks in it's glow. Monday tomorrow, and at this very moment I am not ready for it - but I know by the time I get up, into my work kit and in the car - I will be ready for a day of mulching well rotted manure.... bring it on! 

Winter winds blow

With heavy fast moving rain forecast and winds lashing the trees back and forth it seemed a 'good time' to go for a walk .... said Moss...... and we (strangely) agreed.

Wrapped up well - to the point on waddling not walking and finding it almost impossible to bend, we set off. Down the main road through the village, past the fairy light encrusted Christmas tree outside of the community centre, turning right up dead duck hill (double quick puff) then right again up a small track towards a cluster of houses. Although we know it is a bit early in the season - we are on the watch out for lambs. We know that they have started to appear.

Round the goose-field to the rec. Moss races the wind as she chases her frizbee, hurtling along the grass at breakneck speed. Following the far edge, we stepped back out of the grounds, across puddle lane and into the sheep filled souterills. Moss threw herself into the winter 'lake' and steamed herself cool again, willing us to let her off her lead, but with hugely pregnant ewes watching warily - her request was refused.

We walk through the upper souterill field making a slight detour past the Highland coo field - checking for calves, they appear soon after Christmas, large fluffy teddy bear beasties hunkering down in the moorland grasses while their mothers watch carefully through thick and wind tousled fringes.

Then down the lane to the nature reserve, still one eye out for lambs and now hares. I can hear the tinkling of the windchimes as we pass chicken accident quarry. Then we leave the lane and turn left up the Ferndene, skipping puddles and dodging flooded paths, past Sagar's Lake, the meadow, the picnic grounds, play park and then back on to the road. A sneaky turn right onto David's walk then home following the main road into the village.

Our walks are are memory maps, with names from village history or from our own stories. Some from when the boys were little and found it difficult to describe where they were, some are anecdotal tales from friends and others associated with events that occurred. All very personal to us yet instantly recognisable to others.

Home now, we managed to avoid the rain but we feel wind battered. So with lunch consumed and mugs of tea being cradled in fingers, we can hear the wind howling around the house and calling down the chimney - but we don't mind. It is all part of the season, the place we live and our lives.

Twixmas - a bit of this, a bit of that

After a few family filled days, at this moment, it is just myself and a mug of tea. The house is remarkably still and restful with just the hint sound trailing from the radio as it cheerfully plays hits from 2008. The overly youthful DJ announcing that she was only seven when these 'oldie-but goldie' tunes came out - what on earth is she talking about?? - it was only 'yesterday'! Gah - what does she know! 

What I do know is that this year gifts were definitely more thoughtful, more considerate.Something else I know, we quaffed countless mugs of tea - teas of all flavours with many differing varieties of milk. Keeps me on my toes - making sure everyone has the correct combination.

I find at this time of year - the kitchen becomes the engine room of the house, churning out not only meals for hungry tums, but festive treats and bakes too. I've tried a couple of new to me recipes (inspired by the unreachable perfection of instagram) but will need to practice/improve/give up/admit defeat 😆😆. 

The weather has been rather predictably rubbish - that pristine but brittle cold blue sky slid into a driech grey wet blanket with on off miserable rain. It does make hunkering down by the fire rather enticing while dog walks are more a feat of endurance that a pleasure. We have had a couple of gently splendid soft grey and peach sunsets sprinkled liberally with hail - they were bracingly joyful made all that much better by returning home and putting the kettle on with mincepies and ginger biscuits calling out to be eaten.

We will have a couple of days to ourselves, Himself and I, while the boys spend time with their extended families and although a walk or two has been discussed - the weather, once again - will feature somewhat!

There is something about this time of year - it makes me restless - I feel the need for an adventure, not quite on the level that Bilbo Baggins undertook however - I can feel that need rising.  

Do you get that stirring of restlessness or (if you are in the northern hemisphere) happy to hibernate?

 And one last image - a fuzzy-zoomy photo of Moss as we performed a double quick march to get home before the hail shower pinged our respective noses even more!

 

Something to get your teeth into🍪❄️🎄

On Thursday - the only day we all had time spare - we baked our marathon-relay-tag-team gingerbread festive biscuits. Making sure we had enough to share and to scoff, there was a lot of rolling and cutting and cooking. 

Whilst we were waiting for the biscuits to dry, Moss took us for a quick dog-loop before the weather closed in

Once we'd returned there was a bit of a mini panic when I could not find my icing kit, so Himself and I galloped off to purchase a replacement icing nozzle set (which in the end meant going to five (yes 5) different shops until we eventually found enough to get started.

It could be said we had fun! We now have aliens, snowmen, gold and silver stars, festive trees and pigs ... yes pigs!

Despite all the 'taste testing' and 'pre-icing nibbling' we still managed to fill three jars - perfect for sharing😊🍪

And if you fancy a mad marathon baking sesh of the gingerbread kind - here is the recipe....

350g (12oz) self raising flour

10ml (2 tsp) ground ginger *

100g (4oz) butter

175g (6oz) light brown sugar

60ml (4 tblsp) golden syrup

1 egg - beaten

sift flour and ginger*, add sugar.

Soften butter in the microwave, stir in the syrup then add the egg - mix well

knead til smooth, roll out to about 5mm (¼ inch) thick. Choose your favourite seasonal cutters and have fun!

Lay on to baking trays (either greased or lined)

Bake at 190°c  (375°f) for about 10 - 15 mins until golden.

Cool slightly then finish on a wire track

Decorate to your heart's content and scoff!

* I doubled the ginger, added mixed spice and then for good measure a pinch of ground cloves - I wanted a very festive hit in each biscuit!

They don't last long...

Wreath making🎄

During the first weekend of December we gathered around newspaper covered tables and we crafted many wreaths.  For ourselves, for friends, for colleagues and for family. 

Food was shared and there was so much - the table groaned beneath plates and despite our best efforts, the left overs were shared out and sent home to be eaten later.

By the end of a wonderful day of cutting, snipping, chatting, eating, tying and tweaking, between the ten of us we had made 15 wreaths.  Our home smelt gloriously of wood and pine - quite heady and spicy.

Then, later, once our guests had gone, the house quiet, left over foliage and fripperies put away we cradled mugs of tea and toasted our toes in front of the fire.

It had been a good day, a very good day, made the more special as we'd not been able to celebrate wreath making for the previous two years and it was wonderful being able share food and friendship once again ❤️❄️🎄