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!!)

A blue sky day

 There are rituals around this time of the year that call to me.

This particular one - the village card delivery walk - has so many precious memories linked with it and they filled my head and heart as I walked with Moss while we dropped off cards. I think that this is the first year that I have been on my own - most of my pack are working or away so it was up to myself and Moss to fly the flag today.

We both wrapped up, well I wrapped us both warmly. I ignored the snarky side eye and exaggerated sighs from the dog as I lashed her into her harness to make sure her green fleecy 'jimjams' stayed snug. She is not a regular wearer of dog attire but with the temperatures as low as they are at the moment and with our route being a fair bit of trudging through icy fields and lanes - I ignored the irritated eye rolls and buckled a fidgety dog into her outdoor gear.

There was something familiar and comforting in following the route we'd used since we first moved into the village. I stopped and breathed in the icy air - great lungful's of the bitterly sharp stuff making myself cough and my eyes water - took a moment to recover. Moss did give me a bit of a concerned look then sped off skittering and slipping on the ice with such a silly grin on her face leaving me gasping and wheezing and laughing.

The sky is a brilliant blue - one that fills my heart with such joy.

We're back now, most of the cards delivered, one or two still to write, but with a snoring dog and a steaming mug of tea there is a gentle feeling of satisfaction that this year and with this little ritual completed that small moments like these are worth treasuring.

I have not gone, I am still about, I just needed space to breathe. Sometimes simple things in life just seem to sparkle and I had felt to have lost that spark - I am hoping it has returned.

Snow work

 'A snow day' was decreed by the boss and after cancelling today's volunteers - I have been working from home today. I am on with a photo-project for an exhibition in the event room at work. Over the course of a year I have taken at least a gazillion photographs and as part of an upcoming event some of the images are to be used as part of the display. 

Have you ever tried to narrow down said gazillion images to a select few? I eventually managed to choose 125 - sectioning them into seasons - then took them into work for a further pruning.  Well, that didn't happen either! 

So this morning I spent a fair bit of time turning all 125 images into montages, hopefully capturing the essence of the garden, the seasons, the weather and the fun (and hard work). I now have 20 montages which is a much more manageable amount to display. 

They will hang alongside empty seed packets, vintage and children's tools as well as sketch plans for a new ornamental flower bed to celebrate the Platinum Jubilee. I think - if I can make it work - I will create a kokedama or two and add a couple of seasonal wreaths (a festive one for the winter section and an 'eastery' one for the spring zone) all of which will hang off branches attached to the walls. Well I can't say I have a boring job now can I!?😁🌱🔨

Right, I'll finish my lunch then get on with some garden designing - will be lovely doing good old fashioned paper and pencil type work! 

Enjoy the rest of your week xxx

Snow

Thank you for your lovely comments for the sneak preview of the spring inspired arrangement I'd started on Friday morning, a little later the mum of the bride, a new volunteer and I, plus mugs of coffee, sat down with tiny bits of foliage and snowdrops to create the prettiest possible arrangements for each table. 

I showed the ladies how to assemble the mini displays using catkin branch 'nests' I'd made a day or two ago, tucking in ivy fronds, pussy willow and snowdrops then using moss to finish off the look. It was a rather enjoyable couple of hours and it seems that they loved doing it too. I have been promised photos of the event with the arrangements in place.

As the afternoon progressed, the stormy weather turned a little more wild so we decided that it would be better if we left work before it became too difficult to drive on the motorway.  I, along with every other driver on the road, bumped and bounced our way home as the winds gusted across the lanes. Happily I got home safely and curled up with a mug of tea and a dilly dog in front of the fire and listened to the storm railing around the house.

Saturday (today) was strangely calm with clear skies despite dire warnings by the weather forecasters of snow and heavy rain. So, once at work, with one eye on the sky I tackled a few jobs with my young volunteer. (He is always up for an interesting debate or discussion and our conversations can range from politics to ancestry, hair colour to flesh eating bacteria - told you they were varied!!)

Suddenly it darkened and in moments we went from dull winter's colours to completely monochrome as masses of huge sloppy flakes fell. It was very pretty and for quite some time the snow did not stick and none of us at work were concerned. Then we noticed that a substantial layer of snow had gathered and the flakes were now small and hard - the air had chilled and the snow was here to stay. So once again, after making sure all our volunteers and visitors had gone home, we closed early and left. 

This trip was a bit daunting as the motorway was covered in snow and most of the drivers were crawling carefully - except for those who weren't and tore down the other lanes flat out... their choice. But, like yesterday, I got home and now am curled up with a tea (well it's my third seeing you asked...) in front of the fire.

Storm Eunice - although some places in the uk really suffered, here locally we were more 'inconvenienced' than in danger - I do feel for those who unfortunately lost power or had trees fall damaging their property and hope that they are safe and warm.  We have been very lucky.

Moments and snapshots

The radio is on filling the room with sound, while Moss sleeps on the carpet in front of the woodburner. She looks so relaxed and the tip of her tongue is sticking out .... 

The air is gently fragranced by a wonderfully vintage rose scented candle. The flickering light makes the walls appear to waft and shift as they change colour by the glow of the flame. 

Himself's gift of roses and lilies still look beautiful and are a daily reminder how lucky I am.

•,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,••,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,••,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,•

This morning I had the pleasure of creating a large spring inspired floral display for an upcoming private event at work. Although not complete - I will be adding snowdrops and ivy tomorrow - I was quietly pleased how it turned out.

A 'nest' of catkins, damp moss, straw and birch twigs surround the open mouth of the jar and if you stand near and close your eyes you can smell the woodland floor.

Small paper hearts hang from the twigs and tomorrow I will be finishing off the individual table decorations - vintage miss-matched china jugs, cups and sauces will be filled with snowdrops, catkins, rosemary and eucalyptus sprigs, twigs and moss.

They are destined for an afternoon tea hen do - I hope the weather plays nicely..... Storm Eunice you are not invited.

•,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,••,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,••,¸,.•´♥`•.,¸,•

 

The wild winds coldly blow* 💨☔🌧❄

 After what felt like the longest week in the world I finally reached Saturday and dragged myself through it - in the end I had to admit defeat and left work by lunch time. Yea gods I was tired! The rest of the weekend was mostly happening behind my eyelids, finally by Sunday afternoon I felt 'human' enough to be persuaded to go for a walk by Himself and Moss. The weather, to be honest, had been quite cantankerous and alternatively threw down hail or rain, sleet and in some cases snow but by the afternoon there were promising flashes of sky and moments of delicious sunlight.

So we wrapped up well, jumped in the van (I made sure we had tea and milk and a box of shortbread biscuits on the off chance we might need them .... well you never know!) Himself had decided on a short canal based walk in a small town a few miles away however after about ten minutes of driving the weather turned foul again so with hail hammering down on the windscreen and the heating on full, we drove on towards the Dales to places we know are susceptible to flooding to see how they were coping. 

As we crested the hill we could see the flooded wet meadows and to our left more heavy sky seemed to be bowling in rapidly. The wind picked up speed and the van was buffeted about as we dropped down into the valley.

Roads, rivers and fields became one watery entity as the hail hammered down with a loud metallic clatter above our heads.

We have seen it worse and so far it seemed it was just the fields under water, however some houses were close to the lapping flood.

Sheep were happily on higher ground sheltering against stone walls as they stoically chewed the cud. We'd driven this way last weekend and a couple of fields were dotted with ewes and new lambs - today they were all away hidden in warm barns.

Then just as suddenly as the showers appeared, the sky was blue and the sun shone weakly- we were not deceived by this apparent change of heart as we could see the trees still whipping back and forth and the distant clouds racing in.

By the time we'd reached the small village of Linton, we parked near the falls, there finally seemed to be a decent break in the weather so we chanced a short walk. Down to the Linton Falls themselves - which were turbulent and noisy, over the bridge which rumbles somewhat disconcertingly when it is this full!

Along the river going upstream puddle hopping and hoping not to slip on the muddy path.  We soon reached the lower part of Grassington, crossed the bridge and began the return walk on the other side of the river - we could see the next barrage of clouds coming up and we did not want to get caught.

We only just got back to the van in time - as we were stepping out of our boots and waterproofs - the hail began. It howled and lashed it down with about 20 minutes of vile weather. I am so glad we were not caught out in that! Remember that milk, tea and shortbread biscuits I mentioned earlier? Well they made an appearance and they were most welcome!

Despite the unforgiving weather - the frisky fresh air certainly blew away any cobwebs and the short blustery walk was like a boost to the system. However, I was very glad to be safe and warm and hugging a mug of tea back at the van as we watched and listened to the storm around us.

*Spellbound - Emily Brontë

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

Wintery walk

Our festive break seemed to slip by without hesitation then suddenly we landed on the last day. It was only fitting that we took ourselves for a walk - the first and last one of our holiday. 

Weather and commitments meant that we had lots of lovely 'dog-loops' around the village starting and ending from home but we'd not managed to get our boots on and sling a rucksack on our backs and head off into the hills.

Tuesday was the day and we headed into the Dales. And found snow!

The air was bitingly cold and the light breeze just sliced through so we very quickly added more layers and kept moving to keep warm. 

We found a small naturally formed ledge which basked in full sun and protected us from the breeze so we stopped and had lunch as we watched our breath swirl around. Tea, sandwiches and biscuits were consumed while Moss either 'sunbathed' or sniffled around the snow.

Our trail followed the narrowing valley where we crossed the stream on an icy covered footbridge, the path suddenly rose sharply upward. As we climbed, the snow became thicker and the path icier and slippery in places.

After the steep pull we landed on an 'alp' arriving at a derelict farm house and barns. It is one we have visited before and affectionally call the 'Barn Owl Farm Barns' as the last time we were there, there was a family of Barn Owls nesting in one of the barns.

There is still tangible evidence that it was not so long ago that the farm was a family home, filled with people living and working in a beautiful but isolated area.

I wandered around carefully, the floor boards although all there - had a certain soft feel to them and I was not taking any chances. I took several photos before returning outside to find Himself and Moss playing in the snow. We continued along the farm track and I took a photograph of the farm at the end of their lane - on a beautiful summer's day, I could imagine how wonderful it would be to live there however it would not take much to get cut off and feel very isolated.

Our walk took us up and back over to the other side of the valley and we walked along the ridge back down towards the van. 

The late afternoon sun, as it slipped down, turned the snow from a brilliant twinkling white to shades of brittle cold gold and blue. It was beautiful but really cold and we knew we had to keep moving and get back down into the valley before it was too dark.

Back at the van and seven and half miles later, rosy cheeked and 'frozy toed' we felt gently happy. Being out on a crisp wintery day with glorious blue skies and soft golden sunshine had done us a world of good.