Satisfying

It is satisfying to have such a well stocked chest of dressing up supplies that a forgotten about 'come as a fairy tale character' day can be easily accommodated. He wanted to be a pirate, so a pirate he was. I don't mean to brag but a prince, knight, elf, Robin Hood, wizard etc etc would have posed no problem either.

The only shop bought item was, fairly obviously I think, the pirate hat. Everything else had been made or commandeered for the purpose. The grey waistcoat was actually Finley's 'Great Escape' costume. Made for him from a cardi by a good friend when he was just 4 and it was his favourite film.



And it is very satisfying when you spot that a bag, made for a very good friend for Christmas, has become her 'bag'.

That's warm all over glowing satisfaction, that is.

Six Times Around The Sun

All children are born unique, and for some children their uniqueness is subtle, but others are obviously and magnificently different.

Jack has always been utterly unique and in a world of his own, and although when he was younger that often took a little extra working out, he is now just such a joy to be around.

Not that he really notices



a whopping 6 fairy baskets on his birthday tree



We took him, and a couple of his friends, to the Milky Way. A huge corrugated iron building with a soft play area, a death slide, a farming museum, dodgems, and a number of other bizarre attractions which seemed to be all manned by one guy called either Greg or Captain Cosmic, depending on which attraction he was currently spearheading.

The boys thought he was great

This was a particularly important bit of creating I finished in time for his birthday. I had nearly finished before his Birth-Day, but not quite!

 I planned and cut and sewed this during the days leading up to my due date six years ago. I hid myself in the dining room with a portable gas heater in the dead of winter, and I was still sat at my sewing machine, determined to finish, when the real rushes of labour brought the whole enterprise to a frustratingly premature halt.

 And that was the last time I had worked on it, until a week ago.

It had been intended as a cot bumper but six year old boys have little use for a cot bumper. Instead I put looped bias tape at intervals along the top and strung it from a piece of doweling.

It is now hanging from the side of his bed, but once I have painted it will hang on the wall beside his pillow.

I can't wait to paint!

In Spate

A most earnest search for puddles...

... for the important business of splashing in.

 But the real Mummy reason for the expedition in the cold and wet was this.

I know that flood and rivers in spate are dangerous and destructive, and with the devastation caused by flooding both abroad, and so very close to home, I am anything but complacent.

But I can't help it, I just love LOVE a river in spate.

Just for comparison, you can see the two trees in the left of this picture, in the far right corner of the picture below, which was taken during the summer. 

Mmm, or maybe I just love rivers, as the picture above is equally appealing!

I have driven miles out of my way to see a river that has burst its banks, and have driven down flooded roads to get to the best place to see a flooded valley.

I feel scared and exhilarated by them. In awe of their raw power, and fascinated by the swirling and bubbling surface that just hints at the power and turmoil beneath. I like to show the boys the river when its like this. I want them to understand how awesomely powerful every river is, but especially a river swollen with heavy rain and melted snow. I want them to respect it and feel the fear and adrenaline you need to keep you safe near something so elementally ferocious.

There goes the footpath!



The flood had receded by the time I made it down there. There was evidence of the silt deposits and flattened foliage all along the valley.

 All too soon the footpath leaves the river bank and climbs up out of the valley. I felt very reluctant to leave, and longed to be able to follow the river further up to where the valley widens and the normal course of the river has been all but lost. I managed to catch this from higher up the hill through the tangle of beach hedge and holly trees. You can just see the snaking path of the river, and how far it has encroached into the farm land around.

Brilliant.

Embracing the Tower

Something strange has been happening in my life over the last few weeks and months, and it is only now, as it gathers momentum and strength, that it has become truly obvious.

Everything is crumbling a little. All the technology I am so used to, and rely on so heavily, is breaking around me, and it seems the more we fix it, the faster it collapses. For the last few weeks, and not for the first time of late, I have been without a car. It broke, we fixed it, it broke more, we borrowed a car, that broke, we gave it back, we fixed ours, now it has really truly broken, and all we can do is fix it up for sale as it is. Many many other things have also broken, or started only partially working.
 For all of December we had no washing machine, dishwasher, intermittent transport, and huge damp problems in this characterful old building. We now have a washing machine again, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for that little modern luxury!

This all sounds stressful and horrible doesn't it? I won't pretend that it hasn't caused some problems, and Mr is finding the constant need for repairs is putting a real strain on him and eating up all his free time, but I am ok.

It feels like the tarot card 'the tower'. Like the breaking down of old thoughts and ways, and the pulling apart of all that was. It feels like the dynamite going off under the sky scraper. I am anxious as to how this will all turn out and I hope we can make it through this disassembling without going under. I should be far far more stressed, but I think I understand that it is necessary, and that once the sky scraper is gone, and we clear away the rubble, there will be an empty space in which to build whatever we want.

Christmas was

A lot of time spent lighting, tending and gathering around this.

The heart of the home. We finally managed to get a log delivery through the snow on Christmas eve!

A good covering of snow.

Oh how the white snow makes the house look even greyer!

So much snow. When Simon decided to try to dig the car out and make it to Torrington he asked our neighbours if they needed anything. As he was going from house to house the ones he had asked came out with spades and snow shovels and dug our car out.

A little wolf.



Some home made gifts



Some saved from the tip and brought back to life gifts

Some 'maternal glowy feeling at being right and knowing my little boys so very well' gifts.

A few (too few) wanders in the snow to marvel at the dirty looking sheep.

A smidgen of sledging between coughing fits.

And a lunar eclipse.

 Trust me, behind those clouds is the point of full eclipse!

And so so much more. Family food cooked by everyone. Expeditions through the snow to let loved ones know how important they are. The strengthening of ties through both friendship and community. So so much hand work and home made love, more of which I will share as I untangle myself from the holidays and get back into normal life.

And now to this new year. Now to grow with the light, and go boldly into the depths of winter with the promise of spring.

The Advent Fair - before Christmas

Wonderful home made food,

wreath making and face painting,

happy painted children,

handmade clothes and gifts,

music and dancing,

mulled wine and grape juice,

mince pies and cream,

lots of money raised,

good will spread,

all over warm and fuzzy feeling.

Just Being

I went for a walk in the woods on Sunday. Not an uncommon occurrence I grant you, but this was different. I was ALONE.

It was late when my husband decided to drive a 40 mile round trip to my Grandparents house for some bits of Plexiglas my Grandpa had saved for him, and later still by the time he realised that the children really were coming along for the ride and he could do nothing to stop them.

The mountains of things requiring my attention were there. The paperwork, the laundry, the supper, the sewing...all there waiting for me. And I was tired, so tired, from several broken nights with unsettled children with bugs.

So I decided to go for a walk. Actually I just decided to go to the woods, and accept the walking as a by product.

It was beautiful. More than beautiful. It had been a clear cold late Autumn day and it slowly turned into a misty still Autumn twilight.

I walked, and stopped, and listened. I saw how the holy berries looked as though someone had painted them in scarlet gloss, like the staging for a Christmas photo shoot, but not for my benefit. I saw how the mist rose above the meanderings of the river, giving the whole valley an eerie and otherworldly quality, but that was only my interpretation. And it occurred to me there, in the silence and stillness that I am unaccustomed to in my boy filled world, that I love the wood, but the wood cares not one little bit for my affections.

It just is.

If a tree falls in the forest it matters not whether there is any one there to hear it. It's noises are not for us.

And small fish in big ponds and large fish in small ponds feel no more or less important and give no thought to the size of their pond and the relative dimensions of their own fish body.

They just are.

It is only us humans who attribute layer upon layer of meaning to everything, and it felt wonderful in the dusk and mist to just be, just for the briefest of moments, before heading back to meaning.