Breakfast in winter
Up in the far north of Scotland the days are short just now. At Croftgarden you can take your breakfast by moonlight. Here in North Wales the days are short, but not quite so very short. Our kitchen faces East and on a sunny morning, even in winter, the light pours in. Somehow a wild rose manages to grow on top of the stone wall outside the kitchen window. It is losing its remaining leaves fast but the hips still shine when the sun comes up over the hill across the valley. Yesterday a blackbird stood on the wall amongst the briars for a long time, inspecting the hips. He flew away without taking any, swooping off up into the yew tree. I like my breakfasts solitary and slow. When the children were young I used to get up half an hour before they did specifically to have breakfast by myself before the mayhem of school lunches and sports kits and suddenly remembered homework got underway. Ian and I enjoy a cup of tea in bed togeth...