welsh hills again

I always used to hate November: greyness, wetness, short days and dank, dark nights.  It felt to me as if the world turned inward and the light left the sky and as the days darkened my energy dropped and so did my mood.  When did my feelings change?  I am not sure.  My mother died in November and my father two years later in December.  I think that these losses combined with my own growing sense of how fast time runs away with you have shifted me towards wanting to make the very most of each day.  I can't afford to discount three or four months of the year.  How many more years are there?  I have no idea but I should make my days count. And lo and behold! It is possible to change the patterns of a lifetime!  It is possible to find things to love in November and to be energised and excited, just as much as in Spring.  Over the last few years I have found lots of ways to feel good in November and for me that seems to require some particula...

I haven't blogged since March!  That's terrible.  No excuse and every excuse:  packing and moving and getting out of the rental house and into the new one.  I probably could and should have blogged but I didn't so here I am now.  We are here.  We are in.   The sitting room is calm and peaceful with our books on the shelves and our cushions on the chairs. The view across the field is almost as lovely as the one up to the hills. The amount of the glass still surprises me after so many years of our seventeenth century farmhouse, built for shelter, not for light.  I love the cladding too against the white render.  It feels like a house which belongs here even though it is yet to have a garden. I have got to know the sheltered sunny places to take a cup of tea and dream about the garden we will create. There are still things to do and in a couple of weeks the green roof will arrive for outside the guest bedroom and over the front porch. ...