Not quite as planned

Today has been an odd day, one that any plans, simple or otherwise have taken a journey of their own and despite all good intentions - 'things' have happened.

An entire can of carpet glue exploding upstairs and spiralling furiously as it sprayed the stickiest 'web' everywhere until it expired

A water pipe being pierced by a nail by a previous unknown workman and on removing the nail some decades later - a present workman created an unwelcome water leak. He was horrified and very apologetic even though it was not him.

Decades old pipes, wires and a 1976 newspaper lying amidst so much filth and dust between the floorboards that it felt like an archaeological dig rather than a repair job

A lemon drizzle cake - usually the mildest and meekest of bakes - fought back and caused so many deviations that subsequently a lot more washing up was created.

All this before lunch............

And now, sitting on the floor, listening to the ice melt dripping, the neighbour drilling and the radio churning out over-cheerful yabba, I am mending Himself's hat. 

And it suddenly feels a whole lot better.

tip my hat

 A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

Having come home (albeit a little earlier than normal) from the day job, I'm doing my 'homework'. A portion of my day is computer related which I choose to do at home. Today I am planning and designing a treasure hunt for children based around the park, a 'bingo' card for littlies to tick off as they run around the gardens and an adult level anagram and word search. 

However, I keep being distracted.

I'm in the lounge which faces the lane through the village. Any movement makes my eyes flick over towards the window. So many bobble hats, beanies, trapper hats, berets, slouchies, hoods and caps trog by. After my eye was caught yet again by something colourful bouncing along as the wearer made their way down the footpath, I stopped trying to avoid looking out, leant back and gave myself permission to enjoy the visual feast.

Most folk seem to be ensconced in some variant of woolly type head gear, whether knitted professionally or by their gran, they all seemed to be tugged firmly down around the ears, resting just above or over their eyebrows. 

A few fleecy type hats have loped passed, usually more trendy in appearance with bright colours or patterns. The best so far has been a furry trapper type hat. The kind that have long 'ears' which can be fastened tightly below the chin with the hat part pulled down deeply, keeping the head and a goodly part of the face covered .... except this one was not.

The hat was jauntily perched above a cheeky chappy's face with the ear flaps sticking out horizontally, very reminiscent of Grogu's own ears, bouncing quite merrily in time as he walked.

About a half dozen of teenage lads then lanky-legged by in their school uniforms - no hats or scarves and certainly no coats. At what age do lads mature into hat wearing, coat donning, scarf wrapping, fee paying members of the public?

I 'double-hat'. 

I wear a thinnish skull cap type - usually crochet cotton courtesy of my sister in law, this acts as a heat trapping layer, topped off with a thicker knitted slouchy beanie. This allows me to removed the outer hat if I get too warm without actually exposing the horrendous bird's nest hat hair that lurks beneath. It does not matter one jot if I contain my feral hair as tightly as possible, I know that once it is hidden deep in a hat - it goes even more wild and makes me look like I have been dragged through a hedge backwards.

The view through the Victorian Folly towards the Italian Gardens and Chinese stone lantern

we are all things to all nations if nothing else here at the park...

Surround Sounds

  A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

I have a busy brain. It chats happily to itself and to me, organising, discussing, replaying, planning, making lists and anything else that it fancies to annoy me with. For a few years now, I have been gently practising the art of silencing the incessant chatter.

Some days it works and others - not so much. I have learnt and regularly practise ... to just listen. Listening to the sounds around and not letting my busy brain discuss them. Listening in silence.

The tearing of the wind as it rustles through trees.

The crackle and bursting of air bubbles when a river tumbles over the rocks.

Birds singing for territory, for mates, to impress.

The sound of boots slurping in mud, crunching on frosted snow, clipping on tarred pavements, scrunching on pebbly tracks.

The drag and whush of the retreating tide on a rocky beach.

The crisp sound as a page is turned in a new book.

The clink of a paint brush as you swirl it in water to clean it.

The quiet breathing and sometimes the deep snoring of a fast asleep cat.

That deep chest thudding roar of rain swollen rivers as they crash down a ravine.

......and just a gentle enquiry - how many of you heard the sound as you read the words?

Laying down the first tracks

 A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

The crusty crunch of our boots on the now frozen snow was the loudest sound first thing this morning as we kissed our goodbyes. It was still dark and the thermometer in my car said it was -7°c .... it certainly felt like it.

the track last week before more snow 

was unceremoniously dumped in large quantities

At work, I turned into the small access lane along side the park. It is a rough and unforgiving little track in the best of weathers so I knew today was going to be a rather bumpy ride. And it was. As I reached the far end, I noticed that were no other tyre marks - I was the first to arrive but not only that - the first to drive up the lane and onto the carpark since the more recent heavy snow .... I slowed down, carefully pulling into the small space we share with the Council lads and gently reverse parked hoping I would be able to drive back out.

Later I was cheerfully informed that everyone who'd tried to drive in a day earlier had to be dug free ....   It was good to catch up with some of the volunteers and the staff.  My 'work family' are actually special to me - but don't let them know that, it would go to their heads! 

Glad to be home though, I've had enough of this intrepid-driving/working-in-the-snow-lark - give me warm sunshine any day.

simple joy

 A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

Snow flurries dance past the windows, whirling and rolling before landing on the already frosty white ground. I'm glad to be inside. During the winter months I am home more - as primarily employed as a horticulturalist, I am busy beyond belief during the 'growing season' and although I diversify during the winter months into arty, craft or wreath making workshops,  I have the utter pleasure of have days off during the week to 'play'.

I recently discovered something new to me - 'perpetual journaling'* - which entails sketching or painting an item from nature once weekly in a book and repeating until that book is full which if done correctly can last for years.  Be still my beating heart.

I started mine in November (when I first made this wonderous discovery) and look forward to painting and adding my work each week. I love that each time I add to my book - you can see a visual change in the seasons.  It also makes me look at my subject of the week so closely - making me notice the tiniest of holes in a leaf, the thinnest of spines on a stem, the curliest of fronds, the crispest of dried foliage and it feeds both my gardening and arting heart.  

I love that when I am out walking I could just chance upon the perfect subject for scrutiny then sketching. All this joy and pleasure from something so simple.

 A snow topped teasel from the walled garden

*if you are on instagram - have a look, there are some absolutely beautiful journals out there.
#perpetualjournal
#lgperpetualjournal

And thank you for your lovely comments, they are much appreciated and it is lovely that I am 'meeting' some new-to-me faces - welcome to my little corner of the world 💚x

Madam does not approve🐾

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

Working from home today. 

The snow has triggered where I work into a health and safety hyper-alert. It does not take much for paths to be slippery or access to become difficult and seeing a fair number of folk who use the community building and gardens on a daily basis are mostly older, it seems better to err on the side of caution.

So, instead of doing garden planning, checking on our seeds/tools/potting soil, making shopping lists and welcoming back the volunteers, I am at home having just endured essential mandatory training.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be at home when the weather is like this, I can wrap up and chat to the cat whilst I am working (not that she approves of this kind of frivolous comradery - she is more the 'you-work-and-I-watch - through closed eyelids - type of cat......)

Any hoo - I am now fully certificated on anything to do with fire prevention and safety in the workplace.  The cat was not particularly impressed when I let out a ooooof of relief on the final assessment.... however, I am just glad to have finished it. 

The eyebrows of annoyance say so much more that words could ever do!

Ginger cats

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

Like much of the UK, when I flung the curtains open this morning, I was welcomed by a brightly white view. Snow.

Himself and the cat seemed firmly burrowed in the duvet, so I pottered downstairs and while I waited for the kettle to boil, took photos with my mobile. Quick snaps as proof in case the rain came and spoilt everything, washing the brilliant white away and replacing it with the usual dismal and drab northern winter.

Sipping our tea and coffee, watching the snow flurry this way and that through the window,  suddenly message after message from the family pings up - photos of their snow, their happy snow chatter, so I sent them ours and it felt lovely that despite the boys being in their own homes - we were 'all together' watching the weather and comparing depth and snow fall type.

Himself wanted to get out and experience the snow so we wrapped up warmly and set off. The cottages in the village appeared to hunker down in the mounds of snow, clustering around the lane running through it. There was a thin wind curling around the trees and funnelling through the stone walls and slicking across my face making my cheeks feel brittle, however I could not feel my toes...

After about three miles, Himself and I returned, shed our many layers, put the kettle on - time for a mug of tea and  still warm 'ginger-cat' biscuits.

Before winter really arrives

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

There is a crunchy crispy note to our footsteps as we walk up the side of Dewbarrow Ridge.  Puddles are lidded with a layer of ice and the air although cold, feels and smells earthy and fresh.  It is really good to be out. Snow and icy conditions have been forecast to start this evening - winter is on her way - so we are out on the hills making the most of the lull before the storm.

Although there were several cars stashed here and there along the lane, it appears we are the only ones up in the woods. 

Some walks, I come home tired but happy, others I need to recover before I can appreciate them, but today's.... today's five miles have left me feeling elated!

***********************

Birds either spotted or heard:

Buzzard, Rooks, Nuthatch, Yaffel (Green Woodpecker), Greater Spotted Woodpecker, Crows and the most beautiful of Barn Owls.

'Keewik keewik'

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

***************

Carrying a small tub laden with toast crumbs, dried sultanas, cold bacon fat and cake, as well as a full kettle of not quite boiled water, I carefully picked my way through the garden to the bird feeder. The Robin was giving running commentary and a cluster of Blackbirds were loitering by the pond watching me with bead bright eyes. 

The bird snacks were emptied into two trays and the water used to help dissolve the thin layer of ice in the water bowls in the garden. 

The sky was the thinnest of clear blue with ragged white contraflow criss-crossing the expanse. In the distance a barrage of shooting - a 'side effect' of living in a village on the edge of privately owned moorland......

Suddenly the female Tawny Owl whistled a plaintive 'keewik keewik' triggering the garden birds to send up warning calls and flutter nervously through the trees. 

I retreated back to the house, more layers needed as my fingers and feet felt lumpen and cold. I returned with my camera and snapped a few photos of frost covered leaves with daggers of ice acting as temporary armour.

Vinca leaves encrusted with sharp stilettos of ice

I recorded the garden birds - Robin, Blackbirds (male and female), Dunnock, Jackdaw, Mistle Thrush, House Sparrow, Great and Coal Tit who were all still grumbling defensively about the now silent Tawny Owl.

a watercolour of a hen Blackbird from my #perpetualjournal - 

ignore the dates, I wrote them incorrectly, I have since amended them.

Dawn

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 - let's see how it goes.

***************

Throwing the curtains open reveals a dark almost blank canvas with just the bedside light reflecting in the glass. A solitary street lamp struggles to shine through the unruly hedge at the bottom of the garden. Then a moment or two later an icy blue slice appears beneath the steel cold grey, emerging from the nothing depth of the night sky.  It was Himself's first day back at work after the festive break and my last day off before I return. So I take the luxurious liberty of returning to bed with a mug of tea, the cat and a book. 

Looking up after a while, I watch the the icy blue sliver slide into a faint lemon yellow, the grey was now a pale sea reaching up and through the retreating tide of the night sky. Colours soften as the daylight returns while trees begin to reappear from the early dawn gloom. The occasional bird flits across my view, flapping in the still air - a start contrast to the last few of days of wet and wild weather.

Photo from a day or two ago looking through the village

Rain runs a thread through it

 Friday
After days of grey dank with the sky having no colour and mist filling all the spaces, we met up with Youngest and his lovely girl for a walk. We slipped and slid our way across muddy fields, deeply pock marked by sheep feet. I listened and failed to hear any bird song - not even subdued twittering although I watched a couple of flocks of starlings fly overhead in tight clusters. The afternoon stealthily darkened so we cut our walk short and returned. Carefully picking our way back, we finally reached firmer footing. With the mist thickening and the light failing, I was grateful to return to Youngest's home and wrap my fingers around a mug of tea. I know we will walk the route again, but hopefully when the weather is better, the sun is shining and the paths are dry.

*********************

Sunday

Himself and I headed off to the Dales to make the most of the mist finally lifting. We set off in fine fettle, looking forward to getting out and although it felt rather fresh with a frisky breeze (well it was December) it was rather nice to have no commitments and know that the day was ours.

It seemed also to belong to many other walkers as the pathways and parking places were the fullest we'd seen for some weeks. We strode out, listening for bird song, watching for wild life and breathing damp cold air.

The pathway - well trod and muddy in places wound and wove itself alongside the River Wharfe, dipping down to the water's edge, following a farm track away then returning to the riverine margins.

We stopped, sitting on a damp ledge with our boots on a sandy 'beach' and watched three mallards steadily make their way towards us as they battled against the river flow and noticeably increasing winds. They were rewarded as we tossed a few crumbled shortbread crumbs before we continued our walk.  The wind now carried rain droplets and on the other side of the river we watched sheets of rain make their way up the valley. Coats were pulled tighter and hats more firmly yanked down over ears and eyebrows. The inclement weather was winning the battle so we turned away from the river, joined a small quiet road and worked our way back to start. Once in the van, heating on, kettle whistling away cheerfully we watched rain creating runnels down the windscreen. 

***********************

Tuesday

New Year's Eve - and with weather warnings being issued with stern voices we all set off to meet up to celebrate the demise of 2024 - which has been a notable year if only for the tide of life being a double edged sword throwing us mixed fortunes amid small glimmers. With both our boys and their lovely girls, we ate (too much) drank (tea, coffee, tonic water and beer - but not simultaneously!) played board games that both flummoxed and frustrated us with equal measure causing amusement and howls of laughter. We watched fireworks on the television and through the rain streaked windows, listened to music, joked and shared stories, cuddled cats and hugged each other.

Wednesday

Rain, so much rain overnight, rivers flooded and fields drowned. After hugging everyone we returned home - today is the first day of the new year, time to reset and think about returning to normal. Here's hoping that you all find 2025 in a better place.

2025 - please be gentle and kind and far far nicer than your predecessor - thank you.