No, this isn’t a post about the movie, which I don’t actually like that much btw, it’s a post about the weather. I woke this morning and looked out at the back garden which was still bathed in moonlight. “hmmm, frosty then” I thought to myself, and trundled off to the bathroom. Please bear in mind it was about ten to six and I’d had about five hours sleep (although when I finally got to sleep, it was five good hours).
So I’m in the bathroom, and I look up at the window (it’s a huge velux jobby) and I think, “hmmm, that looks a little more like snow than frost”. I think little more of it until I’m in the shower and am convinced that it does look more like snow than frost (as frost makes this wonderful pattern on the glass). I finally get dressed and decide to stick my head to the window on the stairs and think “hmmm, the road looks awfully white all of a sudden, perhaps it has snowed”.
Going out to start the car to let it do the hard work of defrosting and my rather perplexed instincts in the shower were correct, we’ve had snow again. It’s not much, it’s a fine dusting of the hard round type, you know, the one that looks like someone’s dropped a huge bag of polystyrene balls all over the place. Oh well, it’s not like it was a month ago. Still, everything looked very pretty, even though it was pretty dark out.
This is yet one more reason why I love living in our little village.
Is it so wrong to be wishing for the cold weather? There is of course method in my madness, we have got a proper fire place, that actually works. Only it’s a bit silly to have a fire when it’s not particularly cold outside.
The dog is curled up next to me on the sofa, breathing heavily. She’s got bits of the local chalky mud stuck to her from our walk earlier, and she smells nutty. I love her to bits, she’s such a pick me up tonic. Well that’s when she’s not pulling me over and causing my hand to get cut to pieces. That sucked.
As you can tell I’m a little on edge. Waiting to hear back about something and as with most things, leaving things to other people makes me a little nervy. Why oh why can’t they just pick up the phone and call me.
Ah great, the Hamster is awake now and making lots of noise. Life with animals… it’s great! wouldn’t trade it for all the tea china!
Well a change certainly came. I am now one of the many unemployed, but oddly enough I’m not too stressed about it. Not too sure why, but I’m happier as a result. Slept better, even if I woke up at 6ish and haven’t been able to get back to sleep.
So now I’m at home avec puppy… who’s being silly. She’s in her terrible twos, well in dog years she’s almost seven, but even so, she’s a petulant little madam that thinks she can get away with murder (and invariably does).
Anyway, off to the Dr’s this morning, to change my asthma medication, as a bout of chest infections has wiped me out a bit.
More later…
Yet more autumnal days. This morning it was the dark and light grey sky and the sprinkling of different coloured leaves on my car that reminded me that summer is most definately over. I guess that’s the thing with Spring and Autumn, they maybe inbetween seasons but they’re probably the most defined.
You can be guaranteed that cold blustery weather will give way to the spring, when the temprature climbs slightly and everything starts growing. With Autumn, you know that the days will get shorter, the weather will get cooler and things will stop growing. Summer and Winter are a bit of a mis-nomer. It doesn’t get blisteringly hot in the Summer and it sure as hell doesn’t snow in Winter.
I can almost forgive the weather. It’s the atmosphere that changes as far as I can tell. As I walked the dog last night, I could smell the different smoke coming out of the chimneys in the village, notes of wood, of parafin and of burnt paper mingled together to bring an altogether earthy smell.
All this talk of smoke reminds me that I need to email the chimney sweep to get the birds nest(s) out of the chimney stack so we too can enjoy a nice fire this year.
Well Autumn is upon us… I’m reminded by a recipees book I just got in Waitrose. Anyway some things to evoke the senses:
Cold fresh mornings;
Leaves that float to the ground like a boat rocking from side to side;
Cold clear evenings with watery light;
Wood smoke that makes you think of places you’d rather be;
Warm winter casseroles and pies with lashings of creamy mashed potato;
Short days and long drawn out nights.
Those are some of the things I love about Autumn. I won’t ruin it by listing things I don’t like about Autumn.
So I had to go into London yesterday… which was interesting. Firstly I almost missed the train thanks to stupid traffic lights and stupid parking meters with no indicaiton of payment fees. Bit annoyed at that.
Still, it was strange being back in my old stomping grounds. Stopping for a drink in Leon on the Strand then going over to Bank to mee the wonderfull JJ for lunch. It’s amazing how much of a tonic a good friend can offer. I miss my daily conversations with JJ. She made me realise everything I’ve been stressing over wasn’t exactly my fault and that other people should be held accountable for their behavior. Soothing if nothing else.
Got back and my back ached, my legs ached, my feet ached and my head ached. I woke up this morning feeling rather icky. Still a walk with pupzilla (all be it a short one) was very restorative. I felt a lot better following it.
Being in the country changes you. Your mind set is different and things that were important before are no longer so. You realise that quality of life is more important than other things. The balance changes and it soothes you. Well it soothes me. I’m not a city person. I go back and I see tourists, I see people as potential terrorists and I see people who are work obsessed.
The terrorist thing was interesting. I got on the Central line at Bank and sat opposite someone and my hackles went up. They never went like that before. I never looked at someone and thought “are you going to blow this train up, or are you thinking about doing it?” I just got on with it. Now I feel a little safer being out of London and not a constant target for someone who wants to do something silly.
As I said… being in the country changes a person.
My dog is a whore. We took her out to Bourton on the Water and the Cotswold Wildlife Park today. She was the biggest attraction at both places. With children, parents and foreign tourists stopping to pat her on the head. I’ll give her credit that she was very very well behaved.
Two observations, our dog is not male, why do people immediately assume every dog they see is male. Wouldn’t it be easier to refer to her as “it” until they know the sex. It’s far less offensive. I wouldn’t go around assuming your child is one sex or another, kindly don’t do the same to our dog. Two, why does everyone ask how old she is then say she’ll be a big dog? Gah!!
So, if I had a pound for every time someone asked me how old he is… I’d have about £100 I think. Next time I’m going to tell them “He’s a 10 year old pygmy Golden Retriever, bred as an experiment, but they decided against further breeding programmes so there are only six in the world. He’s been this colour all his life. Oh and the breeding programme included no visible male organs…” Sometimes you just want to slap your forehead.
Oh and she has my full and unwavering permission to “see off” another person who has the gall to call her a bloody “Labradoodle” she’s a Golden Retriever. A beautiful Golden Retriever at that. I did tell her out loud, so the moron who had the gall to insult her, that she was a Golden Retriever and don’t listen to anyone who tells her otherwise!
Well technically I was sitting inside, only it was inside of my conservatory, with the doors wide open. It is the only place I feel safe enough to sit in a bikini. So that is where I sat. With the sun, and the sound of the birds, with planes scratching the sky overhead and the farmer in his tractor on the back field. Bliss.
I also had a book, it was a bloody exceptional book. You should go and find a copy (I’m not sure that it’s out yet). It’s called the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. Utterly genius book.
I’m sitting in the living room, being a lazy cow. Well not quite lazy, was working on some copy for a friend of mine. Anyway, the patio doors are open and the conservatory doors are open and I can see a wedge of beautiful blue sky. Not only that but I can hear the wind blowing through the many trees around us. The sound is cathartic, relaxing and all kinds of things I cannot find the words to describe.
It’s good here. Village life suits me. It’s relaxing. The only way it could get better is if I were sitting here with a nice glass of something cold (other than the obligatory squash I’ve got), or if we actually had a patio to sit in.
The dog is off to school next week. Puppy school. I think she knows it as she’s being a little bit more compliant than usual. She’s also worked out, if she pees outside, she gets a treat. Probably not a bad thing really.
