Frost at the allotment

I wandered down to the allotments on my way back from the school run this morning. Well, it was more of a march really to try and keep warm. They were pale and frostily beautiful. It was just me and a few hungry birds.

The water troughs were frozen solid. A small boy would probably have tried standing on them to see if they would bear his weight. As I didn't have one handy I made do with giving the ice a good shove. Solid. 

There's not much on the plot to harvest. A few leeks and roots. I'll dig some out after the thaw, which is due tomorrow I think. 

It's hard to imagine how different it will all be in six months' time. This is the season of rest, but soon it will be time to get the shoebox full of seeds down from the shelf. The wheelbarrows are all lined up waiting to ferry loads of manure down to the plots. For the time being though I'm enjoying the break and happily working my way through last season's harvest from the freezer. Gooseberry crumble, borlotti bean hotpot, roasted beetroot and a Nigel Slater damson cheesecake. I do so love this time of year.

Unrealistic expectations

Chilly isn't it. Unless of course you're somewhere divinely sunny and warm and many miles from here. I'm not complaining, winter is supposed to be cold, although it has been a bit of a shock after weeks of balmy temperatures. I saw a bank of primroses blooming today.

The biggest boy was in a cross country race over towards Bath this morning, so after we'd cheered him on we all went for a wander. It seemed a shame to drive all that way and not visit. If the photos look familiar it's because I took some similar ones not that long ago, last time we were there. But honestly, it's impossible not to snap away in Bath, there are gorgeous little details round every corner.

I have to say it's nice to be home though. I've got the heating on, which is a bit of a luxury, we try not to use it too much, and I'm wondering if I can avoid going out tomorrow. There will be the obligatory football in the morning, but maybe I can stay in in the afternoon. The middle boy is a bit under the weather, so I might get away with it. We shall see. I have a pile of books that is getting bigger every week and a hundred and one other things to be getting on with, it might be nice just for once to stay in.

I always like to see cosy fireside pictures on people's blogs, but somehow it never seems to happen around here. I am still on that eternal quest to find more time. I added three books to the reading pile today, honestly, my expectations are wildly unrealistic. Unless of course I win a billion pounds in one of these lotteries I keep reading about, and then I'll be all set. Any wildly unrealistic expectations or ideas with you? Please tell me I'm not the only one.

Yarn along

Joining in with Ginny at Small Things.

I finally finshed the littlest boy's blanket, and it's been on his bed since Christmas Eve. He loves it, and it's just in time for the colder weather that is finally here. I actually saw a dusting of frost this morning. I'm sat here with a hot water bottle, a candle and a big mug of hot peppermint tea. It occurs to me I should make fingerless mitts next, they are what I'm missing. Although I've already cast on a scarf. Another one. I do so love to knit things that don't have to be fitted. I've made several jumpers over the years, but not a single one of them really fit me very well. I still want to make another one though. I'm thinking maybe a loose cardigan. What could possibly go wrong with a loose cardigan?

I don't have a fiction book on the go at the moment. I'm trying to read some of the non-fiction stuff I have about writing. Yesterday I spent some time looking at a book about Twitter. A friend of mine told me that I should have all of the social media things. I hate to say it, but Twitter rather depressed me. I felt like I was running like a maniac on an out-of-control treadmill with things being fired at me. There might have been something interesting in my feed at 10am, but by the time I looked at 3pm it had all been swept away into oblivion by a hundred new things.

Maybe I'll get used to it and work out what it can do for me on the writing front, and for my other half for his freelancing work, but at the moment I'm not liking it much. Peering at a screen while a dozen thoughts a minute fly by doesn't feel like a good use of a life to me. I like to cogitate. To read one or two great articles and think about them for a while. I like things to stay with me, and there isn't space in my head for the sheer volume of facts and opinions on Twitter. But as I say, it's all new at the moment, no doubt I'll get the hang of it. I have an open mind. Although there isn't much space left in it, I'm nearing my max fill level.

Digby or Digbina

Tetbury in the rain. I'd happily live in any one of these houses. I pointed my camera at pretty front doors and peered through windows and I can report they are absolutely dreamy inside. Quirky, low ceilinged, small roomed in parts, but all delightful. I was even happier when I found the local allotments.There was one with my name on it.

For those of you who aren't local, Tetbury is a little bit posh. The Prince of Wales lives just down the road, and there's a shop selling his organic products. Also loads of antiques shops and artisan cheeses and wax jackets and, oh, you know the sort of place I mean. I don't shop there, I'm too scruffy and inferior, but I do like looking at the houses. If I lived in a beautiful old home I shouldn't mind people taking photos. I would almost expect it I think. They're a piece of our heritage. One day someone will come out of the door at the exact moment I'm photographing a particularly good knocker and I shall be all shown up. I doubt it'll stop me though.

I reported the other day how sad it is that the littlest boy has lost his bigger brother to the joys of fishing. The other half must have been feeling a bit sorry for him as well, because in the car on the way to the canal he told him he could have a dog! I'm wary of using exclamation marks, but really, I think that warrants it, and italics as well. Other half backtracked a little and said it wouldn't be for two years, and then he would have to wait until his birthday, so it would be when he is ten (two and a half years away). Everyone went a little bit quiet in surprise. I think the littlest boy didn't dare say anything in case it was all retracted. But it's been said now and it can't be unsaid. The dog is out of the bag.

We had a quiet conversation earlier, just me and him, about what he might call his Very Own Doggy. I asked if we could call him Digby. I've always had a fancy for a dog called Digby. Digby Dog. I imagined he might be a sausage dog, but I've a feeling the littlest boy will need something a touch more robust. He asked what we should call it if it was a girl. I gave it a moment's thought and came up with Digbina. Honestly, my imagination is genius at times.

Wishing you all a dry Sunday. Although of course it won't be. CJ xx

The one that got away

Another fishing trip, but no luck yet, unless you count the one that got away. I stood manfully in the rain, clutching the net, just in case, and wondering what it was like on board the narrowboats. Woodsmoke was drifting from chimneys, and I could hear occasional laughter and the clatter of plates. The middle boy declared it an even better fishing expedition than the first one though, and that made it worthwhile.

The surrounding farmland was saturated, but that's to be expected, it's low lying land and the farmers are used to water lying on the surface at this time of year. The cows were splendidly stinky, I wish I could share the experience here, you will just have to imagine it. All in all it was a full range of sensory experiences. 

I had a nice outing with the two littler boys yesterday afternoon. The biggest was back at school, it was wet so we just went for a trip to a different library to our usual one. Something about it was just right. It wasn't a special place or anything, but sometimes everything just clicks and makes a moment. It was cosy in the library, there were new books, harmony between brothers, I found a new writer that I wanted to read. I think we were all aware that it was the last bit of the holidays. I had planned something a bit more special, but I decided against it because of the rain. In the end it was as good an afternoon as we would have had elsewhere. Time to be together calmly and happily. A memory to carry forward into the new week and the new term. It doesn't have to be fancy, sometimes it just works.

Drifting, fishing and bouncing

Lazily drifting through these post-Christmas days. We walked over the Clifton suspension bridge, built in 1864 to link Clifton to Leigh Woods over the Avon Gorge. It was closed for only the second time ever on 30th December when Storm Frank swept in. The sun was setting as we walked back and the lights were coming on in the beautiful houses on Sion Hill.

The middle boy has had a good couple of days. On New Year's Eve we found an excellent fishing shop that was open in the afternoon, so he invested his Christmas money, carefully gathered from generous friends, relatives and Father Christmas, and bought himself a fishing rod together with the various bits and bobs that go along with it. Yesterday we went to the canal and had a bit of a go. His first cast was excellent, the second one went about three feet out, and the third one flew through the air and landed on the far bank. Happily we found someone to throw it back. 

I have to say it was cold and damp, even with hot soup, but the middle boy was very happy, even though he didn't catch anything. He wants to go again immediately. I'm a bit sad for the littlest boy who has lost his chum for playing in the woods with. They have so much fun together on their imaginary adventures, but now the middle boy just wants to fish. Hopefully he'll still play sometimes too. The littlest boy found a small bouncy dog to play with for a while which partly made up for the fraternal abandonment. Of course, a small bouncy dog of his very own would be the best compensation...