countryside · crafts & knitting · general stuff

January frosts & home comforts

The days between Christmas and New Years Day are an annual gift I give myself, a peaceful pause in the march of days when no โ€˜to-do listsโ€™ are allowed to intrude. Instead there is just a gentle drifting, a pottering and flitting between things that feel right at the time. We walk with Toby every day out in the quietly dormant countryside, and then itโ€™s back home to warm up by the fire and put cosy indoor clothes on. Afternoons and evenings are spent reading or watching films and knitting, of course.

However, now that the year has got going I’m finding it hard to pick up the pace, so we’re still in hibernation mode here and gradually easing back into routines. Toby is back at his two activity days and I plan to start pattern writing again next week, hopefully picking up where I left off before Christmas if I can gather together all of my notes and remember where I got to.

As always, walking in the countryside remains a big part of our week. The woods in January are cold and still and quiet, shrouded in drifting mists and carpeted with mud and damp leaves and the overhead branches make filigree frames around patches of leaden sky. Thereโ€™s no birdsong, just the cawing of crows and chattering of magpies, all of the smaller birds have flown off towards back gardens where food is more plentiful. Mice, shrews and hedgehogs are all tucked up and hibernating and the squirrels spend weeks slumbering high up in their cosy dreys before rousing from their torpor on warmer days and coming out to forage. 

Not that there have been many warmer days of late. Last week was bitterly cold here, with deep frosts so we were bundled up in extra layers and our walks were brisk affairs, rather than the leisurely strolls of summer. It was so beautiful out there though, every surface shimmering with a diamond dusting of tiny ice crystals.

Back home I curl myself around a cosy hot water bottle and nestle down under a warm blanket and knit socks. There is peace and quiet and comfort and I feel immensely grateful to be right here, right now.

I hope that there is cause for a little gratefulness in your January days too, J x

countryside · crafts & knitting · foxes in my garden · wildlife

December Days

The arrival of winter always brings a desire to slow down, to cosy up, to hibernate a little. Winter storms have rolled in bringing cold winds, lashing rain and grey skies but here inside it is quiet, and still, and warm, and there is comfort and peace in the simple pleasures of reading a book or knitting a pair of socks. I’m up early each day to catch the sunrise, or at least a lightening of the gloom, and the quiet moments in between Amy going off to work and Toby getting up are a favourite part of my day, as I enjoy my early morning cup of tea and the freedom to spend a little time on anything of my own choosing.

Out in the countryside all of the Autumn leaves are down, dashed from the trees in the recent early winter storms and now lying damply underfoot. There are always a few weeks at the end of Autumn when you really need to know the route out in the woods as the pathways are hidden under deep drifts of leaves, so it’s easy to loose your way. There is mud too, so much mud, and Toby and I slip about almost like skaters as we make our way along our familiar pathways.

The outgoing migrant birds have flocked and flown for warmer places far away. The birds that over-winter here are just arriving. All summer long there’s been no sight or sound of a blackbird in our garden, but all of a sudden there are six of them, all squabbling over ownership of the topmost branches of the plum tree.

The foxes are back in our garden too, after spending the summer months elsewhere. A sure sign that the weather has turned and that they need extra supplies to grow their thick winter coats and bulk up a little to better cope with the colder weather to come. For the first time we are winning the trust of a dog fox, he accompanies Katsue (the small vixen with the injured foot who started visiting in springtime) and every day gets a little bolder and comes a little further from the bushes. We’ve called him Kai and he is very handsome, hopefully I’ll get some more pictures of him once he’s more relaxed.

Well, I’m going to sign off here until the new year. We’re having a very quiet and simple Christmas, the tree will go up tomorrow and then there will be good food, quiet candlelight and lots of cosying – plus plenty of sock knitting.

Thank you so much for visiting here with me, it’s lovely to have your company and I deeply appreciate all of the kind comments and messages that you send my way. I hope that you have a peaceful few weeks, and that you’re able to spend time with those you love best. I wish you and yours a merry Christmas (if you are celebrating), and a very happy start to the New Year, J xxx

countryside · crafts & knitting · in the woods

A month for memories

October is a bitter-sweet month here in our household. We celebrate five family birthdays, two for both of my children who turn a year older, eight days apart at the beginning of the month, and three for family who are now just memories (my lovely Gangan and Gampy, and my father-in-law). It’s not then surprising that this month brings with it so many feelings of nostalgia and is brimming with memories from both my own childhood and those of my children, and I go about my days feeling grateful that I have such a deep well of happy memories to call to mind.

But then October is traditionally a month of reflection for many, with multiple festivals relating to remembrance spanning many different cultures. It is a liminal time between the bright, warm days of summer and winter’s cold and dark, a time for settling in, for gathering together what is needed to get through the harshest months of the year, for cosying up and for reminiscing. Here it’s a time for sweeping the chimney, stacking logs, batch cooking casseroles and soups and unpacking blankets and winter woollies from summer storage, and I busy myself with gathering together everything that comforts on cold, dark days.

Out in the countryside Autumn brings such melancholic beauty, with misty mornings and the colourful seasonal changes. It’s also an exciting time to be out in the woods and one of my favourites, due to the arrival of fungi underfoot. So it’s that time of year when I write my traditional toadstool blog post. Getting out into the woods and lying on my tummy in the wet moss in order to photograph their fantastical forms is one of my great autumnal pleasures. I am always delighted and surprised to see something that I’ve not seen before and even the types of toadstool and fungi that I do recognise are always different and amazing.

Coming back into the warmth and cosiness of home after getting chilled and damp in the woods is also a delicious pleasure. And curling up with my knitting as I start to warm up again is a comfort and delight. Pattern writing is happening in the quieter moments of my days and I hope to share some new patterns with you over the remaining months of this year, pictured above are some of the coats and cardigans I’m working on for the small 7 inch animals, and there are a couple of other clothing patterns in progress too. And in the evenings, when I’ve run out of brain power, simple and rhythmic sock knitting in autumnal colours is a soothing end to the day.

I’m reluctant to state it (just in case I jinx things) but we are beginning to feel on more of an even keel here. Toby is currently, for the most part, content and happier than he’s been for quite a while. I know that change is inevitable and always waiting around the corner but I hope this feeling of calm lasts, at least for a little while longer, as it’s brought such relief and comfort to me and is very much needed.

I hope that things are calm and comfortable where you are, thanks as always for visiting here with me, 

J x