getting better

This morning was bright, clear and cold. A slight frosting lay on the garden wall. Inside we are slowly recovering from 'flu. The fires are lit and the house is cosy. Last week the postman delivered some cookbooks but I was too unwell to do more than read through them, wishing to be well enough to want to eat, never-mind actually cook. Luckily that has lifted and so with the barest fluffings of snow outside I made cinnamon buns from The Five O'Clock Apron and with their buttery, cinnamon-y raisin filling, they have gone down a treat. A little post-illness indulgence, if you will.

weekending

While Hugo downloads an app to help tune the guitar William, Mide and I do some advanced robotics at the table...

...and that cold, foggy weather means that some almond scones by the fire are just what's needed.

snowfall

Last night snow flakes started to fall and all their talk going to bed was would there be enough snow to make a snowman and would there be enough snow to get off school... 

Sunrise this morning. A dusting but not much more. William came down the stairs at 6.20am to check the time and check the snow. By 8.30am both he and Mide are out in the garden, throwing snowballs and whooping in the freezing air. Not much later they are back in. There isn't enough snow to stop school and off they go.

Sunlight in the dining-room. It is quiet. I roast a butternut squash with garlic and chilli to make salad for lunch and then print some linocut snowdrops, the only noise is the radio mumbling in the background and the crackle of wood in the stove. Then I make flapjacks with oats and golden syrup and butter for the boys when they come in from school. A snow day. A quiet day. Nothing out of the ordinary, but all the better for that.

shadows

The low January sun filtered through the sitting room curtains, with shadows.

wintry days

Slow wintry days. Walks up the hill, reading by candlelight, close to the fire and sunset at five o'clock. The turning of the earth and the stillness after endless rain. This is January.

new

painting by Stanley Bielen

The house smells of woodsmoke and there are the last few needles of fir tree on the floor around the stove. We have packed away the decorations and swept up the mess. Christmas was spent entirely and completely with people we love and we are so glad for that. And now a new month, a new year and hopefully spring is not too far away.