Another first

 The new normal (so far)

In the early morning gloom, the post breakfast nap (if you are a dog) and the garden patrol (if you are the cat) are well underway.

Yesterday there was a bit of a break through, Willow is beginning to relax - not slowing down ho ho - not slowing down at all! Life is for living at 100 miles an hour but we are definitely finding a new normal.

We managed to sneak in three decent walks yesterday in between the squalls, the wind and hail. The late afternoon walk was timed to meet up with Himself as he returned from work - it is something we used to do when we had Moss and it was his suggestion to continue it with Willow.

Storm Chandra had more or less passed over by the time we left the house, the sky was a strange palette of washed out blues and greys with dashes of gold and light. The houses on the ridge above the village were bathed in this soft battered glow - almost as if they were celebrating 'weathering the storm' and had survived.

As we climbed out of the valley on to the ridge we too were coated in this pale light but we were also discovered by the buffeting winds - and they were cold.

The sun as it drops below the last remains of the clouds

Following a track which is locally known as Ol' Joe's lane, there was some shelter from the stone walls and spindly hedge. The lane briefly opens out to Peter's Meadow then back in to a drovers track where a couple of donkeys occasionally appear in one of the fields. They popped their rather shaggy faces up to see who was walking by but quickly lost interest and disappeared again.

At a steady 'Willow speed' it was not long before we arrived at a small neighbouring village of jumbling houses against a hillside. Over the years I have walked through, I have watched the traditional cottages and houses change hands, get modernised, lose gardens to parking, have trendy doors added, seasonal plastic wreaths and become more expensive to buy. 

Finally, dropping down on to Roslee Road (from the time when wild dog roses grew on the hill side) and into the local nature reserve. We were a little early for Himself and it seemed churlish not to go for a wander around the reserve.

It is not often that the mill pond is entirely devoid of birds but it was today. None on the water and none at the disabled parking waiting to mug unsuspecting visitors for their sandwiches!

There has been sightings of an otter in the pond which is only a few paces from the river which used to feed it when it was a working mill pond but again nothing spotted today. Suddenly we had just enough time to get to our destination and not five minutes later Himself arrived and we bundled ourselves into the van - another first for Willow and she took to it like seasoned (if a little scared) trooper.

So many firsts for this little timid dog - so many more to come. So far she is doing brilliantly.

PS - just discovered that Willow is a snorer! She's asleep in her safe space and snoring like a steam train😆

It's raining cats and dogs☔

It is dark and wild outside. Trees dance and contort in the wind and sheets of rain dash against the windows. Himself has already left for work and the cat who chose to slip outside very quickly returned, spiky and wet then stalked off to bed to sleep off her brief but horrendous outdoor experience.

I am sitting downstairs listening to the wind howl round the chimney and scream past the kitchen.  I, like the cat, have also been out. Willow and I galloped down to the garden and back in record speed. Me because the weather was foul, her because her breakfast was calling her rather loudly!

I am not keen on central ceiling bright lights, so we have side lights, stringed lights or standard lamps in all the rooms. Sitting in the dining room I am gently bathed in a soft yellow glow of stringed café lights above my head and the repeated reflected pattern on the wet window while the garden lashes back and forth outside rather pleases me. 

The last few mornings - even before Willow - I have woken before the alarm, unusual for me as I am not a lark but more of a night owl. However I think I might try and harness this recent 'superpower' as I want to make the absolute most of my new freedom and having a dog who thinks any time is a good time to do 'things' just might help!

Later: Having just come back from a quick dog loop - I am beginning to think that having a dog, in the northern hemisphere, in winter ... is certain type of masochism ........

An increasingly soggy dog with her rather damp owner not far behind

This gentle waffly post about nothing in particular is more about getting me into blogging regularly again than I actually have anything to say!

Hope you are staying safe and out of Storm Chandra, I saw several branches down and a damaged roof in the village.

What do you do with a dog on a day like this? Bearing in mind I can not even blink without Willow going 'GREAT! - you moved - what adventure shall we do next huff huff huff' 😆

What a bum shot

 Thank you for such lovely welcoming words for 'Willow' who seems to have, despite all the upheaval, started to settle and know '𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥' things like ... where the treat cupboard is and where her lead is stored.

Today is my first day of being a free and feral dog owner and it is Willow's first day of having to put up with me - her free and feral walking partner - poor girl. So I thought we'd start as we mean to go on and by 9am after as many chores I could stomach, we set off with plenty of poop bags and a treat or two for her and a flask of tea for me. She could barely sit still as I gathered our supplies. 

On our route we met so many new and scary things - as an ex-town-dog she probably never met 𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔼ℙ  or ℂ𝕆𝕎𝕊 before but apparently the absolute worst are ℂℍ𝕀ℂ𝕂𝔼ℕ𝕊 (who knew?!) however, that is all good, I would rather she had a healthy respect for them than see them as something to chase. Besides I told her that sheep and cows EAT dogs, and as for chickens ... well you don't want to know what chickens do to naughty little dogs..... stuff of nightmares 😆

Nearly five miles later, 28 dogs and their walkers, three terrifying foot bridges, two unfathomable stiles and countless gates later, there is a small and exhausted red and white collie asleep in her crate*.

Backstory:

Willow was wanted (originally) by a family with two biggish children who begged for a dog. A pretty farm collie puppy was subsequently bought and brought home to a small terraced house with no outside space to speak of. People who know collies know that they have energy to burn, brains to keep busy and nerves to temper......

Then an unplanned pregnancy meant a new baby who took up more time than anticipated as she was born with a number of health issues. So Willow was sadly relegated to the back of the queue. This culminated into a desperately needy and clingy dog who had short 'comfort break' walks to the nearest patch of green and then marched back as quickly as possible.  

*When she was being a 'bit much' she was shut in a large crate to calm her down and that has now become her safe space. We have put up Moss's crate with the door open, a soft fleecy mat and some toys so she has her own place to go to when she wants time out and so far so good. 

As far as I can pick up she was never cruelly treated, may be shouted at if she got a bit too 'in your face'. She was fed, she was clean and house trained however she is incredibly timid and this will be her biggest challenge. Feeling brave in her own little skin.

But we are working towards that.

The cat however has discovered that with a timely cross stare that Willow will retreat to her crate for safety! 

And if you are wondering why so many dog 'bum shots' ...  it is all I get to see when we are out on a walk - she can not wait to see or sniff or stare at what is round the next corner.

Lasts and firsts

 So.

Today a thing happened.

Well, firstly it was my last day at work and I left feeling loved and genuinely touched by the many wonderful people who came to say goodbye.

Then......

Meet Willow, 18 months old. My walking boots are never going to look back!

What next?

 A bit of a waffly wool-gathering post today.

The weather is not that nice as I look out, so I shall use the day to crack on with stitching some little felty animals for all the garden and bee keeping volunteers at work. Each one - I hope - representing their characters or their favourite pet or hobby. I have already gifted one and it went down well which was a relief 😊

A little woofly brown dog in a favourite coloured sweater

Tomorrow is my last day at work and I have been inundated with visitors all week coming to say good bye and drop off some unexpected and wonderful cards and gifts. 

Little Lion for a pint sized but lion hearted volunteer

I have a couple of pebbles to paint too - also for volunteers and staff - I must get cracking as soon as I have finished waffling here.

Planning a return to all my previous crafting habits has been a delight and I am trying not to throw myself back into them all - failing at that at the moment! So there is a knitted beanie on the dpns, 11 little felted animals at various stages of being made, marmalade being planned, two pebbles looking at me ready to start - one will be a jack russel the other a bumble bee. 

And - there is my own garden, sadly neglected due to previous work commitments - I found that after a week working either in private gardens or in the walled garden, the last thing I wanted to do was garden, even for myself.

Something I am really looking forward to - being able to walk more but not up and down within a walled garden. Down to the glasshouse to get tools, up to the workshop, down to the hives, up to the cafe, down to the mindful space, up to the compost bays - I could do up to five miles a day three times a week..... I walked myself through several pairs of work boots.....

Be outside but not digging or pruning or weeding or sowing or planting or organising or clearing up but being outside and just breathing.

Don't get me wrong - I shall miss an awful lot from work but I am ready to do something different and that starts tomorrow afternoon....... are you intrigued? 

Watch this space as they say.

Strong armed walking

Recently, between work days, I have borrowed a dog and he's dragged me around the local village pathways.  

I say borrowed, his mum had a small but significant tumble down some stairs and wrenched her elbow and shoulder so isn't up to hanging on to him as he snuffles about.  He is a 'big lad' - a rather portly border collie with an irascible nature and eye wateringly foul breath, however for some inexplicable reason - he not only tolerates Himself and I, but will drag his shrieking owner over to say a wooferly hello.

She obviously adores her dog and it amuses us greatly to see him rolling his eyes as she screeches at him to come in from the garden or to stop pulling her around the corner on one of their multiple (but very short) daily walks. You can hear her ear piercing voice trailing off in to the distance as he determinedly waddles off to read his favourite pee-mails or sniff out any new scents.

He has tried to drag me around as he does her and to a certain degree I have managed to put up some resistance so that I look less out of control (work in progress, work in progress). 

We did try going up a rather steep and at the time very muddy pathway out of the village on to the tops thinking that he could pull me up .... that didn't happen. We stopped for a puff every few steps and I swear I could hear him gasp that he needed to look at the view (me too Jed, me too).

I am off today and am contemplating seeing if my furry fat friend would like to go out - it is raining and I know that he is not keen on wet weather - will be interesting to see if he agrees 😆

Not a particularly spectacular photo - but he does not pose, he does not stop (unless a really stinky scent or a steep up hill then we are both gasping for breath!)

Edited to add: he was desperate for his walk, just got back and I swear my lead holding arm has stretched by 10 cm!!

Gentle sitrep

The day job is about to end - five days left (but who's counting...) Talk about a sea change. 

A voluntary choice to resign several years early which has both terrified and elated me at the same time. And at this precise moment I am at the 'leaping off the cliff with a positive attitude' stage - however, ask me again tomorrow....... next week ..... in 20 minutes time and I'll probably give you a different answer. 

But at the moment - positive. 

Something that has given me pleasure (and still does) is painting and recently I have done a fair few #tinycatpebbles, gentle commissions and gifts. I fully intend on picking up the paintbrush a whole lot more in the coming months - watch this space as they say.

Thank you to old friends and new for taking the time to pop in to say hello and welcome back, thank you - that meant more than you will ever know xx

Are you about to embark on something new?
Is there something that you're planning to start or pick up again?
Are you, as I am, quietly watching the rain outside whilst I take a break from what I should be completing?

Word for the year

 April 2025 (my last post) was some time ago - a lot has happened yet nothing has happened. A life time of stories yet just a blink of an eye leading to the same point - today.

However, this year is a restart and as such needs a word that will live up to 'my expectations' (so it's got to be a good one) I've played around looking at words like 'quirky', 'whimsical', 'Magical' and they all feel - a bit young for me. 

I rather liked this ....

“You are never to old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” ~C.S. Lewis

However, you may have noticed it is more than one word!  I like optimism - it has a strength, a gentle strength and as a word it is rather optimistic! So, let me introduce to you my word of the year 🩵

Do you have a word of the year?
Did you find it helped?

And, if despite my absence you are still out there - please say hello  - I have missed this space.

Nothing much

Tuesday.

Work is a little too busy for my liking at the moment, but it is the way with working outdoors. Gardens have awoken and are shaking off their wintery slumber. Shoots and seedlings, weeds and herbaceous perennials are appearing at a prolific rate and I am running just to catch up. 

Am I the only one that struggles with the changing of the clocks? Actually no, I know the cat gets befuddled too. It can take up to a week for me to adjust to the present time, which annoys me as I've lived here long enough to have got used it - but no. I do think that it is a very odd thing to do - altering the time twice a year. It has a bit of a nod to King Cnut and the tides........

We've had some gently good and soul affirming walks recently. Nothing new or outstanding however the power of repeating a lovely trail when just being there is enough.

The van is getting a bit of a make-over. Himself has been inspired and the present layout - although workable, could be better. I am quietly getting excited at the thought of 'playing out' especially now the days are longer and although still chilly, they are beautiful and the light glorious.

Wednesday.

Just got home after a morning's workshop teaching. Eight lovely ladies who delighted in the mindfulness of making of wreaths adorned with mini nests and eggs, feathers, ribbons. Teeny tiny ladybirds and strands of ivy.  Leading up to any of these workshops, I get myself wound up but by the end and everyone leaves happy and I wonder why I worry!

Wool-gathering on a Tuesday

 The house at the moment is revelling in the warm scent of freshly made marmalade. The jars have been filled and the lids are beginning to click down with the most satisfactory snap. Although still a little too warm to cradle a jar in my fingers, I have already sampled some for my lunch and it was heavenly.

I am making the most of today, it will be the last Tuesday I will be at home as now the seasons are turning and the earth awakens, the gardens I tend during the warmer months are calling me back. It is always bitter sweet at this time of the year, I am just beginning to enjoy the longer daylight and the gently warming air when I return, at least I am out and in the weather - more or less whatever she throws at me!

At work we have been preparing for our bees to return from their 'holidays'. I am looking forward to their reappearance with both anticipation and trepidation. They left us in autumn under a cloud and it was a relief to have the walled garden back from their tyrannical rule. The bees, as the season progressed, became increasingly defensive then aggressive and we had to keep the visitors and volunteers alike well away. The background hum of busy bees which is usually comforting, now made us all very wary. The bees had been gentle during the previous three seasons then with the passing of the old queen and a new and tetchy replacement whipping up the hive to an angry mob - working near the enclosure was nigh on impossible especially for me as I am allergic to their stings.

Our beeks (bee keepers) have been on a fact finding tour and peace keeping mission to see how our girls are fairing in their winter holiday location and to try to ascertain their present mood. 

Contrite I hope.

Following our favourite footpaths

Sleeping in the van is like crawling into a cosy cocoon, dark and warm and deep. I seem to fall into the pillow and sink through the mattress and vanish. 

And sleep.

When I awoke on the Sunday Himself was already awake, the kettle on and he'd opened the window covering revealing the tide was in and the River Lune looked like a sinuous silvery snake languidly wandering across the Glasson marshes. The briny water twinkled in the early morning light - the palest of blues flickering on cobalt and teal bands. 

After a breakfast where our eyes filled our souls and our mouths filled our bellies, we stepped out of the van and walked a familiar and favourite walk. Down the lane into the village, around the pub and it's many friendly felines however we only stumbled across one who hurtled across the lane squeaking and yowling at us until we stopped for the demanded tickle. 

On to the marina to find a large herd of vintage motorbikes and their equally vintage pilots. Aged blokes in aged leathers, their faces creased by time and weather, gathered around eating bacon rolls and slurping coffee out of paper takeaway cups. Himself immersed himself in their oily scent and rattled under his breath the name of each bike with an added nod of approval or surprise depending on the vintage or model of the shiny black or green or red or blue two wheeled beast.

I eventually managed to pull him from the captivating metal gaggle, we crossed the road, around the old bowling green, down the steps on to the marshy foreshore away from the increasing numbers of dog walkers, bike riders, talkers and walkers and cyclists along the old railway track. 

Birds and marshes were our company now. Old boats, the scent of decomposing bladderwrack, the trill of sky larks, the rustle of the reeds and slurpy-sclutch of the silty path beneath our boots. 

That path moved upward and returned to the railway track, we crossed the bridge and turned right following a small rough lane with a reputation of drowning during high tide. All the houses along that route either high up at the back of the garden or with flood gates and walls to keep out the waves. Plenty of drift wood and litter confirming how high the water can reach.

A bit of zig zagging through muddy paths, country lanes and a brief moment of busy road before we leave all that behind and wander up the long tree lined drive of a converted mill now noisy and popular wedding venue. One that usually has folk in various stages of drunkenness and dress howling with laughter as they celebrate raucously in the gardens of the venue however this time - utter silence. We were confused - as were a number of other walkers who seemed, like us, a mixture of relief and confusion. It was once we'd returned home we discovered that despite it's apparent popularity that it closed due to bankruptcy.

We sat alongside the canal, watching coots, moorhens and listening to gulls, sky larks, curlews as we drank tea and felt the sun on our faces. 

Eventually we tore ourselves off the bench and walked along a gently rewilded canal, where swans silently glide alongside walkers. The sky and the water were the blue which almost breaks my heart.

The towpath took us back through farmland to the marina. Most of the motorbikes had now gone, we walked through the village back to the van, choosing the quieter backwater paths where, once we returned, the van door was flung open, the kettle put back on and we sat feeling the breeze, listening to the birds and watching the tide retreat.

Sunday - you have been a gift. Thank you.