When all else fails - light a candle

It is the sort of day when the damp cold air clings to your face, wrapping itself around your clothing and following you in when you come in from a walk.

As I type this, I am making a fruit cake - full of nuts and sultanas, dates, dried plums and apple. Treacle sits heavily in the centre waiting to soften, melting with the butter and the kitchen is filled with the woody scents of cinnamon, ginger and clove.

We've just returned from the final card delivery round - an annual well worn tradition, started when the boys were very small and the route was designed so that they could have a break half way round for a rest. Then their legs grew, as did their stamina - the round would be completed in one go. The last couple of years it has just been Himself and me and we do the quick step, returning for a mug of tea.  Today we did the 'between the showers' dash and flew round the village dropping off cards as speedily as we could before we were rained on......and we were rained on. There were a few villagers out and about at the same time and we all did the very English thing of raising eyebrows muttering 'raining again' greeting.

Candles have been lit and tea is being brewed, the kitchen smells heavenly with the fragrance of a cooking fruit cake - all comforting and cosy acts as an active antidote to the dreich out side.  Hope you can find that little glimmer to make you smile today.

Thank you for all your wonderful and welcoming back comments on my last post xxxx

Finding my feet

We parked up, in a lumpy bumpy off a lane sort of space. One I'd used some years ago when I'd worked in the area.  A space off a lane giving me a space in my day and space in my head.

Lacing up boots and shouldering bags, we stepped out of the van into a landscape we love. Today it had low sulky skies with drifting bad tempered clouds in various shades of grey. In the far distance both up the valley and back towards where we'd driven from there was a gentle glimmer of sunlight.

Himself opened a lichen green wooden gate into a damp field and as he turned to close it a cyclist braked to a muddy halt and we let him through too, a muttered thank you and he was off in a splatter and squish of mud down towards the valley bottom. 

A solitary ewe watched as we walked down towards her, we expected her to wander off as we approached, but she was too blasé - walkers were ten a penny and she was not about to be put off her rather good vantage point.

It felt good. It felt good to be out on the hills, feeling the chill of the air on exposed skin and seeing winter softened long distance views. I have missed this.

The path meandered alongside the hills, we did not want to drop too far down only to have to trudge back up. Every step had a memory for me - the grassy mound where I'd made a 'snow mama' that first extremely snowy winter I'd worked here. The field with the donkeys who wore spotty purple and pink coats. The gate I would lean over and watch the rather elegantly nosed Blue Faced Leicester rams.  Seems a life time ago.

The path then found the back route into the small rural town and we trundled along narrow streets. I always felt that this part of the town had managed to stay in the past, almost too cramped for cars except the smallest varieties, a pot or two directly outside the front door which opened directly on to the lane. Privies, coal stores and outhouses either derelict or converted haphazardly as sheds.

We navigated our way along the tumbling lanes and cute cottages and out the other side stopping at a converted pound - a place used historically to hold wandering livestock - now a grassy picnic area with a couple of benches and a cracking view. Sitting carefully to avoid puddles of rain water on the bench we drank tea and reminisced about the many times and years we had brought first tiny boys, then toddlers, giddy youngsters and finally young teenagers to this spot - a good point to have a break before the next part of the walk.

Clouds swirled purposely across the heavy skies as we set off again up a stony track. As we climbed higher on to the hills the mist began to descend, drifting across the tops in a silvery curtain. Himself was in his element - his love for the weather had him grinning. Me not so much - I miss blue skies, I miss the sun - my head and my heart need light and I feel weighed down by the gloom. 

The path continued in a grassy steady upward direction, until we found a somewhat sheltered spot to finish our teas and nibble on snacks. I pulled my hood up and retreated as much as I could in my coat as the mist swirled thickly around us. We did not linger long. 

I always find the silence brought on my mist or fog rather eery - bird song thins away to nothing and all you can hear is the trudging of boots on the saturated path. The mist thickened so that we could only see just a few metres ahead and landmarks faintly drifted into view and slipped away almost as quickly. It is good we know our route, trusting the paths and our feet to lead us back to the van.

We finally reached the track that would return us to that a lumpy bumpy off a lane sort of space where we could put on the kettle, shrug off our damp coats and boots and wrap cold fingers around steaming mugs of tea before we head for home.

Himself was basking in a post walk glow, I have to be honest and admit that despite my misgiving and my need for sun and blue skies, I too enjoyed that walk although it is always retrospectively that I do.

I think writing helps reinforce that enjoyment. 

Mirrie Dancers

 Life is rather filled up with LIFE at the moment and we seem to have so few moments to do the things we love so when we can snatch shared experiences that actually make us gasp - then they are beyond precious.

And when one of your bucket list dreams actually comes to you

rather than you having to go a long way north to hopefully find - 

it is beyond believable 

This just filled my heart with so much almost overwhelming joy!

I found I was actually holding my breath.

I hope you managed to see this most magical

shimmering and uplifting spectacle

I will be keeping a bit of this light within me forever

 

Post Script : I still can't believe we spent nearly four hours beneath a sky of dancing colours. We stood in awe as we clutched mugs of tea while they swirled and flickered around with the stars.

All the photos were taken with my mobile so are a little fuzzy in places.

Going for world domination

Oh April - where have you gone? Admittedly you were mostly shrouded in cloud and often drenched in rain but were also bathed in sunlight and lifted by the most glorious blue skies.

Among many things keeping me occupied (work, life, gardening, living) I have been quietly painting - a tiny picture a day. I can't explain the simple joy they brought me.  A mini escape in watercolour.

Now, suddenly it is the last day of April and the last day of the challenge - #30minipaintings, so I thought I would, to commiserate/celebrate/acknowledge the last day of the month by sharing them here.

Each little picture (well - 28 of the 30) is a record of a real event on the day or the day before they were painted - 28 little stories of my life. The other two were just quickly done late on in an evening when I'd not had time earlier to paint.

Cats, plants, gardens, adventures, family, tea and life - that sums up April. And to show how small they really are .....

A small and furry for comparison.

Post Script - I am on with another painting/drawing challenge - one I kick started at work at the beginning of the year to encourage folk to get creative - it gently grows with more people joining in - we're going for world domination through the medium of art!
 

The signs of a holiday romance

 

The scrunch and scrumble as the sea gently rushes over the tumble of shells and pebbles.

The forlorn cry of the lone curlew and the bubbling trill of the oystercatchers.

Plovers, dunlins, red and green shanks, lapwing running along the foreshore as the tide recedes.

Wistful heart breaking wild and desolate views that pull.

Reflections of clouds and the forever deep sky

Fiery sunsets which paint the view with an incredible display

Sipping tea, listening to the gulls plaintiff yeowls, 

watching lambs, observing the tide and ignoring time

Drifting curtains of rain, far out to sea, silently flitting along the horizon.

Twisting images of the canal lock gates reminding me lava lamps and contours on maps

The clank and whip sounds of the boats rigging and ropes

Our home from home

our buddy in adventure

Post Script: I hope your bank holiday weekend was as good as ours, we seemed to fit in a couple of wonderful days between the rain.  I suspect I have left a substantial slice of my heart there. 

Another brick in the wall*

I find that I look forward to the days I can 'art' for a couple of hours. As the weather warms up and I return to my seasonal garden work, my time to get the brushes and pens out has reduced. The escapism it provides is turning out to be cathartic so I am going to try to ensure I can still 'play'.

The small group which we have started at work seems to be enjoying 'arting' too. I am not the only one benefiting from the results. There is a wonderful small wave of pride as the books and work are shared - including one or two who I quite wrongly suspected would not even participate - how wrong I was!

Between us, we share the theme choice - so some are quite out of my comfort zone (as it is for others) and my results each week are rather variable. Below are some from the last few weeks.

World of Whimsy (I went down a rather dark route with this one rather than the cutesy style the others did)

Thunderstorms and Cloudy Skies

Communication - poison arrow frog 

I am also playing around with different ways - so at the moment one of my favourite things to do is 'art-small'. I found a rather tiny tin, cut papers to fit and paint mini pictures to fit the tin! Pocket painting💙

You can not believe the joy this brings me! I have made a bit of a traveling art studio in an old pencil case, small enough to fit in my haversack and plan to do a painting or two, when we are out walking. (Cue eye roll from Himself!🙄🤪) Fortunately they are surprisingly quick thanks to their teeny tiny size.

And, what have I been working on today? Well, this week's theme is 'Building' - happy heart jump! I love drawing wonky houses, tumbled stones, shingles, slate roofing - so - happy me!

It was at this point I discovered that the black pen I'd used was not water fast and as soon as I tried to apply a sepia colour wash - it smudged - oh well, c'est la vie!

Post Script: The title? Well, I was wondering what to call today's post when on the radio -  Pink Floyds' Another Brick in the Wall was requested by a listener - cheers mate! 

Vanishing into the edgelands

This last weekend was a simple treasure made all the better by a bit of gentle spring sunshine which managed to slip through the ever present grey cloud - the kind that warms your cheek and feels glorious on your back. I have missed that feeling.

We spent Saturday quietly feral up in the South Lakes - walking along the coast, through woodland, skirting around Leighton Moss and Leighton Hall, choosing pathways less trod. Admittedly with one eye on the sky at all times, we managed to miss getting too wet by staying in the woodland every time there was a passing shower.

On the Sunday we came back down below Lancaster to an area we love - an 'edgeland' where mainstream life seems to have passed it by. Himself and I feel comfortable in these often forgotten 'wastelands' where life is a struggle, jobs are few and far between yet the folk are real, hardy, dogged and somehow make the best of what they have with apparent haphazard joy and defiance. 

We both have jobs where we are surrounded by busy folk, mine takes a lot of from me - not just physically but emotionally. I work with a lot of damaged people, those who trying to claw their way out of poverty, depression, stress, breakdowns, loneliness. So these weekends away are healing.

And it gives both of us the space to breathe.

Post Script: thank you so much for your comments on my last post - I was having doubts about continuing blogging - not because I don't enjoy it, I do - I just seemed to have lost the spark. But, if you are quite happy to read my wafflings, I will continue to waffle 😊

I have read a couple of bloggers saying that it is now difficult to find new blogs to read.  I found Blogger has reduced the ability to go 'shopping' for someone new to read. So, I now go on to the 'followers' menu on a blog I already follow, open a random name (their own blog link is never available) and go and see who they read and find new blogs to follow there. 

Belated HaPpY BiRtHdAy!

 I have to admit that even with my newly harnessed 'powers' of reluctantly accepting winter as winter, am finding this dreary transition over to early spring a rather long and drawn out affair.  We seem to drift beneath lingering mediocre grey skies and incessant rain or bitter winds. And yes I know it is the bleak end of the year weatherly speaking - however a blue sky no matter how brittle cold the air is - is more cheerful than the 'nothing' which seems to idle from horizon to horizon. 

A couple of weekends ago we celebrated my Eldest son's birthday - and yes it rained - however we swarmed around the diningroom table and beneath strings of fairy lights and accompanied by candles, ate good food, played board games, laughed and talked and were entertained bossed around by cats. We also tickled goats and played in the garden during a brief but most welcome stay in the weather - now that is what I call a good weekend!

Post script: am I the only one who wants to blog but when I start the words feel trite or the stories not worth sharing? I have over the last couple of weeks, opened the page, thought about what to say (which sounds excellent in my head by the way) only to press delete.