The longest night

As I’ve been juggling Christmas orders with bouts of being-in-bed, I’ve made my pre-Christmas Patreon post public for anyone who would like to read small, commonplace goings (and a snapshot of my beloved old teddy bears). Link below.

SOLSTICE

The snail emerges

So, here we are already in November and I’ve been away from here for some time. But, like a seemingly deceased snail that slowly pokes its head out of its shell unexpectedly, it’s time to surface again. There are so many things I have to do, that I get overwhelmed and then tired and then guilty for not having more energy, more organisational skills, something more interesting to say. And then I wonder, would anyone notice if I disappeared from here? But, like the aforementioned snail, I creep on, feeling the weight of my shell and resisting the urge to hide away forever in it’s safe, dark coil. 

I’ve been catching up with the many things that were neglected when my book took precedence over everything. I’ve painted and felted, drawn and designed, rested and read and had the odd bit of socialising.   

There is a mythical part of my future where I am caught up with everything - all my shop stock listed, all my Patreon pledges up to date, all my ideas down on paper and having something original to say every day for the wheel of social media that never stops turning. But for now, I will be content that I have raised my snail head, said hello to my dear old blog and slowly slither on.

 

For regular weekly postings and a more confidential 'behind the scenes' look at my quiet, cottage life, you can become a 'Seed' subscriber to my Patreon page, for a small monthly contribution of £3 per month or go up a level and save towards one of my needle felted pieces. It's a nice, safe place with friends and helps me pay the bills.

Surfacing for lunch

One of the few good things to come out of the ghastly pandemic is that I have two new lovely Shropshire friends. They booked a few of my Zoom workshops during lockdown; we kept in touch, eventually met up and now it seems as if I’ve known them forever. And life is a little less lonely. 

I have other lovely and much loved friends but they are scattered across the country and so, unless you count the unlamented Joe (which I don’t), I’ve spent the last nine and a half years here at the cottage in near isolation and while I’m very comfortable in my own company, it has been difficult at times.

The other day I was picked up by Friend One and driven towards the Welsh border.  There were lots of ‘oohs’ and ‘has’ as I enjoyed the passing scenery, until we finally reached Friend Two’s gorgeous house. 

We had lunch under a canopy in the garden, as it was a blisteringly hot day. My offering was some rather ominous looking local cheese ‘The Ironbridge’ - part of a cheese box from Moyden’s Cheese, which arrived unexpectedly on my doorstep as a kind present from one of my other distant friends. (It’s actually delicious, despite it’s appearance). 

I was also able to see three of my needle felted ‘heads’ on display, out of direct light and under glass, looking very at home in their stylish surroundings. 

It was such a delight to feel more like a normal person and less like a hermit, with friends to talk to and visit. I came home feeling happier than I have done for a long time and with a squashed but scrumptious cupcake. 

I’ve had a long break from here, due to the pressure of my book deadline. Life is returning to a slightly easier pace now that it’s all finished. I couldn’t have finished it without the support of my Patrons, who have enabled me to pay the bills while I’ve been tied up with book work and in return, I’ve been able to post regularly there, with sneak peeks of my book work and cottage life, and I am now busying myself with fulfilling pledges of needle felt work and paintings. 

As a little summer present, and because I’ve been so absent, I have made one of my July posts open for free and public reading. 

It’s a Wrap

 

Marmalade and a mouse

 

Well, I wasn’t expecting this! A few days ago, this sweetly painted parcel arrived - even the address was beautifully hand scribed and must have taken so much time and care. I’m still in the dark about who it came from, as there was no return address and I suspect the gift giver wanted to remain anonymous. 

I think there may be a clue with the foxgloves and bees, but I may be wrong. Anyhow, it contained two lovely pots of Frank Cooper’s marmalade, including the dark, chunky bitter gold that is the vintage type. The kind of card I love, with a Paddington quote, and an adorable hand knitted mouse, who is now known as ‘Coops’ for obvious reasons. He does look as if he is protecting my jars with a ‘none shall pass’ stance.

So I am hoping that the generous gifter reads this, perhaps having read my previous post about buying a jar on an extravagant whim. And I hope they know how very touched, pleased and smiley their present made me. Coops is now installed in the bedroom, I am going to cut out the painted box front and display it somewhere and I know just what to do with the marmalade...

For my Patreon subscribers, (£3 monthly and upwards) my latest post is a photo packed jamboree called ‘The Way of the Horse’, exploring pastures new, having tiny adventures and discovering lovely Shropshire views. With Marjorie.

Sounds all around

It has been too bitterly cold to venture out for some time, but there comes a point when you really have to remind yourself of what legs are for. I have been feeling a bit creaky and my dodgy ankle was aching, but today I was in much need of some fresh air. There is a brisk East wind sweeping the country, which cuts right through you - a ‘lazy wind’ as I believe it is called in the North. So it was a bleak morning and to make my exercise a little more exciting, I challenged myself to find three bits of bright colour or beauty while I was out. Which was quite hard as everywhere seemed drab and chilled. 

Then I heard a quiet swishing and glanced sideways just in time to see an Ash key whirl to the ground. Looking down, I saw how it resembled a tawny owl in full flight. Had I not caught the fragile sound of it’s falling, I may have passed on without noticing.

As I continued my small ramble, I heard the fragile tinkling of running water. No magic spring, but an ordinary drain creating its own music as the icy field water trickled through the muddy echo chamber. 

Returning homewards, I found myself listening intently for my third ‘moment’. I was no longer on a quest for visual colour, but for the sounds of the winter landscape. And there it was, above my head; the dessicated whispering of long dead leaves, punctuated by the call of a crow. 

My cheeks scoured by the East wind, I reached home and a welcome hot lunch. I did not find the bright colours I had been seeking, but I have found a new interest in the sounds around me, which paint their own aural picture. 

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to post here, but by way of apology, I have  made my latest post on my Patreon page public, with updates on my recent bedroom makeover - if you follow my Instagram account or are a Patreon, you will know that I’m spending a lot of time working in bed, where I can keep warm. There’s teddy bears and little needle felted geese and everything. 

WINTER RETREAT (Link)

A scenic U-turn

Yesterday we had the luck of the sun again - October has been largely kind, weather wise. I had a workshop kit to post out; I normally do this using the online postage service and then hand my parcel over to the collecting post person at the top of the lane. But  today, I decided to cycle over to the village post office, where I haven’t been since early this year. It was all going well and I had a jovial exchange with an elderly walker who commented on my going at ‘sixty miles an hour’, to which I replied that yes, I was going so fast! (I wasn’t). And then just as I got to the turn off for the village, I came up against this;

There was a man with a mobile phone wandering about, but no workers, so I enquired if it would be possible for me to push my bike through, as the diversion was quite a large one. He investigated what I could see was a fairly deep cut trench (the electric mains wires were being replaced) and advised against it, as there was barely any road to work on. I had to agree with him. So I turned homewards. Said hello to the elderly walker again. Pushed Marjorie up the hill.

Investigated some gnarly bits of hedgerow.

And took a scenic shot, before returning home feeling thwarted but virtuous. And later that day I got my order sent off the usual way, stopping to chat to our farmer who (cheerfully blocking the traffic with his enormous tractor) offered to give the outside of the cottage hedge a trim as he always does. He’s a good sort. 

I have been busy juggling various things and have been amazed that my new Patreon page has gained twelve lovely subscribers since I launched it last week. It’s been good to have a safe place, where I can post freely and chat more easily with people. With the benefit of subscriptions, I’m able to take the time to craft longer, photo rich posts, and update more regularly here. I’ve also added three extra tiers, which allow people to save towards a small piece of my work over six months. 

This week, my subscribers shared my quiet weekend, in ‘A Letter from Saturday Night’. 

And have been on a long, autumnal ramble with me, with lots of photos, as I took Marjorie out for a very long spin, finding (at long last) some woodland to explore in ‘Seeing the Woods and the Trees’. 

If you’d like to join me in my wanderings, you can find my Patreon page here. I’d love to see you! (And Marjorie would be pleased too). 

A new path winding

This is the field which is situated right under my bedroom window. When I first moved here, eight years ago, it was populated with a small herd of milking cows, who often slept directly under my window so that on summer nights, when I had the window open, I could hear the moist huffle of their warm  breath and low grunting as they shifted their bodies to a more comfortable position. It was a friendly, reassuring accompaniment as I fell asleep.

Times change and the farmer‘s son took over the herd. The cows were  fitted with tracking collars and milked by a ‘robot’ - an amazing machine which is essentially a big computer with moving parts. Gradually the cows came out for less time each year and for the last three summers, there have been none at all. They spend their lives under cover and the field is harvested several times a year for silage, with which to feed them. I miss them, but also understand that times move on. 

My life too has undergone some radical changes since moving here, as many of you know. I am on a new and uncertain journey, with  no idea of where I will end up. The young farmer has cut a new path in the field recently, for field access. It winds gently and has a sinuous grace of its own. I rather like this new addition to my view and if I were of a mind to take it as a sign, I would see it as a good one. 

After much agonising, I have started a Patreon page. I have previously balked at paid-for content, preferring my blog to be ad-free and available to everyone, which I have done for over fifteen years. Now I am pulling all my resources together, as I am at real risk of losing the roof over my head and I have to make every hour count for something. So for a small monthly contribution,  I have set up a ‘plus’ version of this blog, where I will post every week. I realise it won’t be for everyone, however it will enable me to share a more private side of my life here; what the inside of this shabby cottage looks like, how I’m feeling and with the extra freedom, be able to get out more and share the surrounding countryside with you. As I settle down, I will be offering more tiers with extra benefits. 

Patreon support will enable me to continue with this blog, which is free for everyone, with more regular posts. With that in mind, I have left public my first Patreon post and hope that those of you who are inclined to and are able, will join me in my draughty, higgledy-piggledy, much loved home. 

‘Birds in the roof and toadstools inside’