getting there

The same view from our front door this morning. The top picture taken at 7.50am with the moon in a barely lit sky and then by 8.10am a much brighter view. It's amazing what a difference 20 minutes makes in terms of daylight at this time of year. We are slowly getting there.

january hymn

What is probably not that obvious from these pictures is the icy wind- it would flay the skin off you and it certainly made our eyes water as we faced into it on the return walk home. There's been a brushing of snow across our bit of the world, just enough to justify lighting the fires early and perhaps making the odd mug of hot chocolate to warm us up. Our evenings have been spent reading, playing Ludo (a Christmas gift to William which has been so popular and, as it requires absolutely no skill, one even I can occasionally win at) and when all children are tucked up in bed we've been watching The Killing. We are now on Series 3 so some strict rationing has been put in place but sometimes that doesn't work and we accidentally overdose. So with winter winds howling outside, Sarah Lund running into Denmark's dark scary places (each time, will she ever learn that's where the baddies are) and our toes toasting by the stove, this January is passing along nicely.

the sea, the sea

image from pinterest

This weekend we went to the sea. The crashing foaming leaping sea with its endless celestial push and pull. We walked for a couple of miles alongside it as it roared. It pulled on the shingle with a clacking cracking sound, possibly the best sound in the world - stones being ground into sand. The wind was wild, the spray hit our faces and our words were snatched from our mouths and thrown to the churning saltwater. My blood, which is blended with brine, was happy. So happy. We turned for home and then it snowed. We walked in the snow, the sky leaden. The song of the sea could not be ignored and it flung smoothed pebbles up over the railings to our feet just to remind us who is in charge.

new beginnings

image via pinterest

A new month and a new year. Outside a new moon shimmers in a starry sky and the fox barks somewhere in the wood. Inside we are warm and sleepy, the end of the day and the return to school and work takes its toll. The new year brings the excitement of the unknown - all those months to fill up doing and living and being. I am looking forward to 2015. I think possibly because the last two years were rubbish. But this one feels different, even though it's only a few days old. This one has the scent and purity of fresh paperwhites barely unfurled but still beautiful. This one will be a good one.

happy new year

image from plumo

New Year's Eve. Love it or loath it? I'm in the latter camp, I'm afraid. I don't like crowds, I'm not good at parties, I hate forced jollity and that whole countdown thing leaves me cold. Don't get me wrong I won't be sitting at home in the dark wishing it would go away. No, I'm going to light every single candle in the house, cook something lovely for us, enjoy a special bottle of wine and then wish it would go away. Happy New Year!

bliss

Post Christmas bliss - homemade sloe gin, Stilton & crackers, sister-in-law's chutney and enamel hot chocolate/coffee pot (a favourite gift) and the peace to enjoy it all...

wishing

image from pinterest

So here we are the night before Christmas Eve. All is as calm as it can be in a house with three young boys. Presents are wrapped, the cake is iced (this in itself is a miracle), the turkey and ham arrive tomorrow, friends will come for brunch and we will spend Christmas Eve at home with the air fizzing with excitement and expectation. Bedtime will come soon enough and we will hang the stockings and read A Child's Christmas in Wales and 'Twas the Night before Christmas together on sofa and then finally, finally their sleepy heads will rest on their pillows and the rest is magic... Wishing you a Merry Christmas...