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Hello and welcome home. The kettle is boiling and I’ve stacked up some delicious pastries for our coffee morning. Why not go on through to the living room and take a look at the Christmas tree.
After another weekend of sickness bugs and the flu doing its round in our home, I’m really looking forward to the final week of school. Not only will my work be winding down but this is my last week of uni studies too before the Christmas break.
How has your term been? Have you found an increase in sickness in your home around this time of year?
Those who follow me on Facebook will know that our family suffered a great loss three weeks ago, which I feel now contributes to the low mood in our household and the slow healing process. It has been difficult and sometimes involves heart-breaking chats about death with my youngest sprog who is still spiralling from the loss of his best friend – the four-legged kind.
Filling that cavernous hole left by our beloved dog, Henry, we’ve decided to fill our Christmas with little events that will pick up our spirits. Planning a special family dinner and prepping for our traditional bake-off on Christmas Eve seems to have helped and the promise of a new plan for the new year has the family focused towards the future.
What has caught us all by surprise are the cats – they’ve taken over the house! From sleeping in our bedroom to vocalising their every need, they’ve decided that us hoomans need to serve them and enjoy their presence in a way cats can only force you to endure. When they think we aren’t looking, they congregate on the landing and sit there like Stonehenge monoliths, silently engaging in cat conversations that end abruptly when they notice a hooman walking by. This circle of secret silence unnerves me and I do feel the balance of power slipping away from the two-legged members of the family! So, if you see little paws reaching for your knee, run!
On that note, I’d best let you escape our mad house before the cats rope you into cleaning their cat box of feeding them every few hours. Enjoy the festive season and do keep in touch.
Thanks for stopping by.
Tripping down the stairs,
Knowing you’re there
Little footsteps in my shadow
No matter where I go
I love you.
I miss you Henry, my shadow.
Henry Carlisle De Sousa
01/06/15 – 24/11/18
The greatest love of my life
As last week’s walk was fun, I thought we could take a different route today and visit the farm about two fields over from the house. Don’t worry about your wellies (Wellington boots) as it has dried out since this morning. I suggest a light coat since our indian summer has definitely warmed the fields and valley. Let’s go visit the avenue of ancient trees.
As the days get shorter and night draws us under its sparkly blanket, an overwhelming urge to hibernate takes over the soul. Warm mugs of sugary beverages are welcomed and wholesome food becomes a part of the norm.
My family tends to shy away from extra curricular activities that take us into the shadowy hours, preferring to hurry home and snuggle in front of the television or beside the fire with a good book.
I would like to take you on a tour of our little world, presenting the highs and lows of living out in the countryside with deer striding past your door in the middle of the night and the melancholy sounds of the foxes in symphony as you try to sleep with the forest just outside the bedroom window.
Let’s start with a early morning dog walk through the meadow…
A silky nightdress covers the meadow, distorting the soft light of dawn. The further you walk under its silken sheen, the easier it becomes to make out the dips and folds of the shape of the land beneath. A cold nip in the air keeps things crisp and the crunchy frost spiking up the grassy slopes bends and succumbs to my heavy boots leaving a marked path over its body.
The moon still smiles down at the earth, refusing to disappear, showing off her beauty to those happy enough to keep her company until the sun gathers enough energy to unveil the beauty of the meadow.
A view of the farm and hills in the distance show remnants of the hot summer in the golden ears blowing in the wind, calling out to my dog to run through them. Green spots of new life lay hidden beneath the gold, waiting for the longer cooler temperatures to breathe life into the autumn display.
At the top of the hill, sweet chestnuts and acorns send squirrels into a frenzy of preparation. You can hear them scuttling over branches and drying leaves, frantically storing their supplies for the winter to come.
As Henry (my dog) snuffles in the undergrowth hoping to catch these interlopers masquerading as nut technicians, I stop to collect my own supply. The anticipated taste of sweet roasted chestnuts undermines the annoyance of their spiky coats keeping them safe and warm from prying fingers. That’s why wellington boots are a great addition to any wardrobe when tackling the outdoors – not just for the terrain but for assisting in prizing open those formidable green spiky shells holding treasures within.
The Meadow offers a magnificent view of the sky and surrounding areas. Sometimes, it has a cathartic effect of soothing frayed nerves after a long day or releasing inhibitions when trapped in ones own mind.
After strolling back down the hill and turning right onto the path that cuts through the middle of the Meadow, Henry knows it is nearly time to go home. He takes advantage of his remaining minutes of freedom by lolloping through the green, turning and twisting his body at a steady run so that he covers more ground.
All too soon, it’s time to go home and begin the day.
I hope you enjoyed taking a walk through the meadow with Henry and me.
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