Thoughts in January

Despite it being finger achingly cold today, the sun shone into my studio and warmed it to a wonderful balmy temperature - such a delicious feeling, being able to cast off the layers and working with bare hands instead of struggling with mitts. It helps to lift the spirits which can feel a little jaded during a grey January.

On the downside - my studio is still wet, we are still struggling to stem the gentle but persistent ingress of water around the base. We know where it is oozing in but stopping it seems to keep us Himself scratching his head. There are days that don't quite go to plan but a little sunshine (and mugs of tea) make that  little less troublesome :)

I am setting myself a challenge -  a sketch a day, which I should have started at the beginning of January but seeing I have only just discussed it with myself today and I am trying to be less hard on myself - I shall start tomorrow! The idea behind it? To get into a regular routine of putting pencil to paper, feeding my need to create and hopefully spark ideas and my imagination. And if when I complete my challenge, I should have a book full of sketches and doodles to look back on.  Ideally I should see improvement over the months!

So, have you set yourself any challenges?
Little goals and good intentions?
I hope to continue to grow with my art and keep letting the sun warm my studio for me x

Whatever 2018 has in store for me and for you - let the adventure begin x

And in other news ......

I did start this in the early hours just after Himself had left for work. It was that silvery grey light before the dawn type sky when street lamps are not sure whether they should be on or off and so occasionally flicker in hesitation.

The cats, having had breakfast are settling down for their first morning nap - Pepper purposefully trundles off towards the airing cupboard and Pan meditates in front of the wood-burner prior to curling up like a meringue on her chair.
Both boys, still on hols, are asleep as is Moss. Although I suspect, given the right invitation, she would gallop downstairs in one noisy bouncy clatter, do a few enthusiastic circuits of the kitchen (not easy seeing how small the floor space is for a rangy spinning dizzy dog) and briefly sit in anticipation of her breakfast.  She would, if allowed, dive into her bowl before it even landed in front of her. However we have managed to train that busy little brain of hers to sit (ok shuffle excitedly with her bottom on the floor) until she is given the command to 'eat'. This is followed by a point and and pat on her back. If not in the correct order, she watches you with such expectant eyes and rumbling tum until we get it right.

Today, after several dreadful days in the company of Eleanor, is actually bright, clear and still - fortunately our localised damage appears to be minimal but the associated dreich skies, no-go water filled areas in the garden, a leaking summerhouse and lack of sunshine does eventually make gorging on festive leftovers and binging on the internet rather appealing. I am in 'rehab' for both at the moment ....

We have had some 'proper' albeit very brief, winter weather, with frost crisp paths and icy cheeks. They have been made all the more beautiful by being enhanced by wintery blue skies and flasks of hot tea.

We are hoping to get out this afternoon and celebrate the lack of rain - fingers crossed that we can. Although I have tried to use this weather induced hibernation to some good (starting a new etsy shop/priming boards to paint a new series I excited about/knitting/eating/tinter binging) - I am feeling a little like cabin fever has set in.

Himself who returned to work yesterday and had 'lost all hope' by mid morning decreed firmly that Friday afternoon was to be dedicated to an outing of the outside variety, in whatever weather (thank goodness its looking better!) and nothing was going to stop him. 

Any hoo - enough waffle. Best get on. And if you were wondering about the images they are of my new amaryllis shoot determinedly growing, a rather damp view through the summerhouse window of a neighbour's cat looking for shelter beneath a bench, Moss playing in much anticipated but fleeting snow, a crisp edged frosty leaf up on a rough moorland pasture and the view from a clear icy walk from a few days ago. 

Ok, that is enough, all I would like to say is Welcome to my new followers, glad you popped in - lovely to see you :) Thank you too for your lovely comments over the last few posts and the promises of joining in with this month's scavenger hunt - the more the merrier! It is really nice being able to visit blogs and share links so we can all find each other :)

Thank you too for emails and phone calls and chats - blogging has such a positive vibe, some where you can let off steam, share recipes, laugh, be laughed at, moan or cheer or share something - it is great! So glad that I, and you lovely lot, are part of it :) Let's make 2018 a good year starting right NOW!

xxxxxxx blessings kate

#walking

The hawthorn tree

Dear blog,

day 1 in the year of 2018....

...let me tell you of a story of a walk to a tree on new year's eve.  

However, before I begin, the sharp eyed of you have already noticed I have added our January Scavenger photo-hunt list. This year the format is slightly different yet still the same - here, let me explain. (excuse me while I take a slurp of tea - thank you dear Himself, just what I needed)

This year's hunt has less prompts, giving you more time to find your photos. They can be freshly snapped images or some scavenged from your archives. Each photo can be a standalone story inspired by that image or the full list could be woven into one story - the choice is yours. The only stipulation is you have fun and don't feel obliged or pressured to join in.

Pictures inspired by words, words inspired by a picture - over to you!

My internet sobriquet is 'hawthorn' which is derived from my Celtic birth sign. The hawthorn tree itself has many mythical attachments to it, so, to me, it is a precious tree.

One of our favourite walks is up to and through Grass Wood, near the villages of Conistone and Grassington. 

Up through the moorland fields where the winding track goes, so did we. High above the valley bottom, leaving below the small and sleepy village.

The track took us along the edge of limestone cliffs, high above a dry valley, into sparsely treed moorland. Our destination? 'My' tree, a magical twisted hawthorn that we have visited for over ten years.

We found her, I - as I do every time - stood next to the twisted trunk and laid my hand on the rough bark.  With your back to the tree, the panoramic view over the limestone and moorland is heart breakingly wild and beautiful.  We sat near and had our lunch. After we'd eaten our path took us through a more dense part of the woods. A short while later, we emerged on the other side.

We walked away from the woods, down into green farmland fields. Stone walled, each with their own little barn. Then crossed the valley and turned up back on to the moors. The winter green grass turned to dull brown and sparse. The pasture opened out and appeared bare and exposed.... and it was. The breeze cutting and icy and on the horizon heavy clouds looking sleety and cold.

At the crest of the rounded hill, an abandoned farm house came in to view. We were drawn to explore and although the ground floor filled with pungently smelling sheep dung we stepped inside. The boys went upstairs as Himself and I stepped back out, donned more clothing, made mugs of tea and kept an eye on the weather.

As we drained the last drops of rapidly chilling tea, the sleet and rain hit us. Wrapped up as best we could we dropped off the hills as quickly as the mud and puddles would let us! Moss thought this was the greatest fun ever as she lolloped from bog to bog getting more and more muddy - but that is how she sees every walk.... a mud-n-puddle-fest.

Then as we came off the high pastures down to the village, I happened to look back, the moon was appearing through the clouds - perfect. Just perfect :)

Once home, warmed and dried with the fire crackling away merrily, I lit candles and started our new 'Jolabokaflod' tradition - handing out books for every one to read - which we did! It was a lovely evening, reading, listening to music, nibbling the last of the naughty festive food....

although not all of us did any reading ..... 

*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*

  *H*A*P*P*Y* *N*E*W* *Y*E*A*R*!*

 Welcome, 2018, may she be kind and gentle and loving x

Thank you Mum and Dad

As a result of an over active imagination and a rather vivid nightmare, I am sitting quietly downstairs with a mug of tea, two sleeping cats and one cold foot. After mindlessly scrolling through the internet until my brain felt distracted from the dream I found I'd actually woken myself up fully and despite it being 3.25am - I thought - I should blog now and why not !

Chrimbly has been and gone and it proved to be a gently food filled, fire warmed and a family orientated one. I made a conscious decision to scale back on decorations, choosing only to have the tree and door wreath this year. I'm glad I did. It was enough.

Gifts, which were thoughtfully chosen, hand made, wisely purchased or (in the case of Himself's gansey), wrapped in an incomplete state nestled beneath Treebeard. This delighted the cats as they carefully stepped over the crinkling wrapping paper while they investigated.  It made a change from their slightly over enthusiastic bauble bashing or tinsel chewing which had occurred over the last few days. 

We, as per family tradition, ate our main festive meal with my folks on Chrimbly eve. They pulled out all the stops. The table was beautifully decorated - well done Dad! and the meal was gorgeous - well done Mum (although I do suspect you were trying to feed the five thousand!)

With our bellies under severe pressure from all the feasting, we all waddled to the lounge to collapse and recover while we played a few games, laughed at silly jokes and chatted. It was a lovely evening.

Chrimbly day dawned beautifully sunny and bright - such a wonderful change from the recent dour and wet stuff we'd been subjected to. My folks were joining us for 'late breakfast' - which was more 'mincepies and coffee' than porridge or toast! But if you can't eat mincepies whilst opening pressies - when can you?

Lunch was, what we affectionately call 'iffits' .... If  it is left over - we'll eat it. So, last night's chrimbly dinner, now as sliced cold meats and ham, plus freshly made Butternut, lentil & red pepper soup and Basil pesto & cheese lunch loaves very quickly filled us up....  A lazy settee afternoon was the perfect finale - with my Dad (and the cats) bravely fighting off the need for a nap!

Later, when it was just us, the used wrapping paper and ribbons sorted out and tidied away, Himself and I sat with a mug of tea, the cats and a sleeping dog. Our boys quietly vanished upstairs - leaving us to chat.  It was a gentle couple of days -  a bit too much to eat admittedly and a fridge full of left overs - thank you everyone - it has been wonderful.

Textures and secrets and confessions

After a few weeks of what felt like a foggy filled head and no idea what to do or buy or make for Himself I was suddenly inspired. I had been quietly knitting for the boys and when on the hunt for another ball of wool in my stash, I came across this.....

A number of Isle of Auskerry balls of squashy roughness that Himself so loves. I did the unthinkable - I actually sat down and knitted a couple of swatches. I.have.never.done.that.before..... Then came the search for the perfect pattern.

Not too complicated for me to make (due to shortage of time and lack of knitting prowess) and one patterned enough to satisfy Himself's love of the gansey and aran styles. I eventually found one called Beaver Ridge and feverishly cast on.

Initially I was able to knit in plain site - pretending I was knitting myself a hat which, bless him, he did not question. But as it grew it became obvious that this was no hat - so I had knit when he was not around. This proved a little difficult as I needed to paint during the day (fulfilling chrimbly commissions etc) and then trying to disguise what I was knitting in the evenings.

Eventually I gave in.... and admitted what I was doing, because I needed to measure, the now nearly finished back piece, against him.  He has a slender frame and I was worried that despite taking that into consideration, this gansey would be too wide.

Having confessed that the knitting was for him and not a hat for me, he replied that he'd hoped the knitting was for him and not a hat for me - so YaY the secret was out - happy all round!

Now, I suspect I may not finish, despite knitting like a daemon, I still have the front to do, pick up all four pieces (doing the second sleeve at the moment) and knit into the neck and sew up the sides. So, on Monday 25th, whatever stage his gansey is, it will be wrapped and under the tree for him to open. I will then retrieve it and carry on so it will be finished as soon as possible!

Wish me luck!

Mistle-NO - the alternative advent 18

Around this time, every year, we meet with Himself's side of the family for a festive family meal. This year was no different - well, um, it was slightly different this time.... let me explain. But first, make yourself a drink and get yourself comfortable and I shall start.

We live on one side of  Widdop Moors, our village nestled on the lower slopes of the main hill and the in-laws are on the other side of the moorland range which is reasonably high. There is a scenic (if a little hairy) narrow single width wild road that clings to the side of the hill as it winds its way over the moors. In summer it is beautiful, isolated, unpredictable and in winter - a little unforgiving. Himself has driven on it for years and knows it like the back of his hand. We have in the past crossed the moor road in really icy conditions with our knuckles white and our eyes wide and sighed a sigh of relief when we have returned down back to the valleys.

Last Saturday, we set off just as it was getting dark, the roads were well gritted, the sides of the roads were snowy and the hills were sparkly and white. We drove up and out of the village,the sky beautifully clear with stars being to appear.

As we drove higher, I mentioned to Himself that the roads were still clear and gritted.... he replied that we still had the moor road to contend with.......which we did a few minutes later. It fortunately appeared that this lonely little road was also gritted too, so we continued.

(With hindsight...) This is when we should have turned around. Here. Now. NOW.

But - hey... we carried on. The first little drop in to the wild valley was quite icy and we slipped down carefully, Himself turned the radio down low, so he could hear the crunch of compacted snow beneath the tyres.  As we reached the bottom the road cleared and we set off on the now apparently gritted surface. Himself dropped down a gear and firmly set up the long incline that starts the moor road.

(Hindsight again?) This is when we should have turned around...here NOW NOW.

We slowly but steadily continued up the incline, the road becoming quite icy with more and more snow encroachment. Conversation dropped and the radio turned off completely. You could hear the tyres alternatively catch and pull or slide on the ice. But we still made progress. The road flattened out for a short stretch, ice was clear, there even seemed to be grit down. So we carried on. Even in the dark I knew where we where and the steep steep steep drop on my left.

Another incline. Himself dropped down a gear again and we continued - I glanced at the car's clock and wondered if we would get there in time as we crawled along the road. There is an alternative sensible route but it is rather a long way round. Suddenly we could all feel the car start to slide and Himself muttered.... 'we've lost it, we've lost it' and he turned the steering wheel frantically to force the slide into the ditch rather down into the ravine.

For a moment we all sat in the dark with the engine rumbling and the car precariously perched in a ditch when Himself said .... we're going to have to walk home - it'll take us about two hours' .

Then, after a moment's thought, he told me to slide over onto the driver's seat and keep my foot on the brake while he and Youngest leapt out of the car and pulled out the snow chains.  Although he had already pulled the hand brake - he reasoned that as the hand brake only held two wheels, having the other brake on would hold all four wheels and hopefully help reduce any possible sliding. In the bitter air, with their heads wreathed in their exhaled breath, the two of them wrestled the chains onto the front wheels. They struggled to stay upright, gripping the car for support as they shuffled around. I was instructed to turn the steering wheel left or right to help winkle the chains beneath the tyre.

Finally both front wheels were chained up in their rather medieval looking manacles. Himself then climbed back into the car and (this rather startled me) he told me to get out. His reasoning was that if the car was to slip off the road he would rather Youngest and I were not in  it with him as it went over ... a sobering thought. He started to reverse carefully back down the hill.

I carefully tottered down the side of the road in the dark in my 'going out shoes and floaty Indian skirt' neither sensible nor warm for this sort of activity. Youngest quite happily slid down the ice on his feet with the ease and invincibility of youth on his side.  Suddenly the chains both came off the car and it started to slide faster than it should have. Himself quickly threw it back into the ditch to brake the slide. I had to climb back in, restomp on the brake while the boys replaced the chains and then once again, Youngest and I were back out on the road and Himself carefully started reversing back down the road.  I must reiterate how narrow this road is, hence him reversing and not turning round and reiterate how steep the ravine is - which drops away from the road with in a pace or two of the tarred surface.

55 minutes after our initial slide into the ditch we finally reached a part of the road where the gritters had given up and turned around and gone home! Himself managed a careful three point turn and then allowed us back in the car. Shivering I quite happily jumped in. He trundled the car down, still in the chains until we found somewhere wide enough to get off the road. He and Youngest then had to try and get the chains off which now were ice-welded together and virtually immovable. It took a bit of chain-wrestling and they finally came off. Much to all our relief. They got into the car, hands filthy and frozen cold but triumphant. Now we just had to get to Hebden Bridge and sharpish - looking at our watches we knew that the dinner we were attempting to get to should have started 20 minutes earlier and we still had to get there. Our new route took us another 30 minutes.... we were late....and they waited for us!!

Woo hoo - dinner never tasted soooo good!

PS - we came home the long way too.

I will probably not blog regularly for the rest of 2017 as life is a bit full at the moment! Something to do with it being December etc, but I will bob in and say hello and check what you lovely lot are up too - thank you Julie for organising this month's advent calendar :) it has been fun!

Wrapping paper - the alternative advent 17

When you are kitten,

the gift is more fun once unwrapped

and cast aside,

then you can get down to serious play -

with the paper!

Those eyes are looking for trouble!

The crinkle of the paper is purr-fectly irresistible !

You can't see me-ow...

Tree - after - the alternative advent 16

Not much to say............ except...

 Treebeard - take it away!

Joining in with Julie's Advent Calendar 

Tree - before - the alternative advent 15

Last Sunday, just before the snow, Himself went out into the garden to collect Treebeard..

Yes, our chrimbly tree has a name and like everything in our lives, 

a story too.

A few years ago our artificial tree (purchased over a decade ago) finally stopped looking good and was needing more than the usual primping and tending to make it look acceptable.  I had been hankering after a real tree for a while but had been put off by the price and the inner-frugal-me kept saying that the artificial tree would last another year, would last another year, would last another year, when one evening Eldest and I went to our local supermarket. Outside in the cold and wrapped up tightly was a crate of trees. I stopped and looked at them - they were both affordable and some were even marked down.  I hesitated, so Eldest went over and investigated. So I followed - as you do....

Well,to shorten a longish and not very riveting story, we brought one home and in keeping with our ethos, it was the smallest, wonkiest and rather misshapen tree with branches missing - coz we both saw it needed a home and love.

Now, several years later, with the help of judicial pruning, garden twine to train branches, Treebeard is beautiful and he graces our home with his presence and pervades our nostrils with his delicious scent during December while he wears his festive finery with such grace and gravitas.

Then, once he has done his festive duty, he is released back into the garden to frolic with the other trees that also reside there. He soon takes up his outside responsibilities - to act as a decoy for the cats, to catch cherry blossom in spring,bird feathers in early summer and leaves in autumn.

He is a happy tree and we love him :)

Christmas cracker (jokes) - the alternative advent 14

Did you hear about the stupid plastic surgeon? Yes. He stood in front of the fire and melted! Doctor, Doctor! Everyone thinks I'm a liar! Doctor: I don't believe you! Father Christmas lost his umbrella but he didn't get wet! Why not? Because it wasn't raining! How can you get your name in lights the world over? Change your name to Emergency Exit! How do monkeys make toast? Stick some bread under the gorilla! How do you start a polar-bear race? Say 'Ready! Teddy! Go!' How do elves greet each other? "Small world, isn't it?" How do you describe a rich elf? Welfy How long should an elf's legs be? Just long enough to reach the ground! How does Father Christmas climb up a chimney? He uses a ladder in the stocking! I say, I say, I say! My wife's gone to the West Indies! Jamaica? No. She was quite happy to go! What happened when the snowgirl fell out with the snowboy ? She gave him the cold shoulder ! What do snowmen wear on their heads ? Ice caps ! If I'm standing at the North Pole, facing the South Pole, and the East is on my left hand, what's on my right hand? Fingers! sorry :D

First chrimbly card - the alternative advent 13

We celebrated our annual knit and natter festive lunch on the 5th December and cards were handed around (well - the more organised handed them out and the less organised sort of shuffled her feet and made excuses (me)).

Any hoo, although I had a few to open, this one was the first out of the envelope, so this one has the honour! (thank you Gillian!)

Now, I better sort this year's cards out.....

Joining in with Julie's Advent Calendar 2017