A New Cosy Corner

Florence loves to browse my books as she sits on the conservatory window sill and toasts her toes on the radiator.      She particularly likes the old handwritten ones, enjoying that feeling of connection, through the ink, to the hand which wrote the words so many years ago.

Cosy Corner, the place where I sit to read/write blog posts, do most of my craft work, read my books.     Until last year Cosy Corner was in the kitchen, next to the Rayburn.


Things have changed,  the Rayburn has gone and there is a log burner in the conservatory and this corner has become my favourite.   


Of course that means that the animals have all decided that it is their favourite, too.   If I leave my seat you can be sure that when I return, one of the cats will have taken it, even though they have very cosy beds of their own.





This week hasn't all been about reading or crocheting.      We had a few glimmers of brilliant sunshine the other morning, I was easily tempted out to do a longer walk than normal.   A walk which I haven't done since last autumn - through the village, around some fields, then up to the old gravel pits.

Trouble was, my feet decided to lead me up to the Wild Wood instead.   

This is one of several paths which lead out of the far side of the village.    Over the bridge, follow the muddy path through the barley field and then you can turn left or right.




My intention had been to turn right, but when I reached that point I found myself turning the other way instead.  The Wild Woods then!

We cut along the edge of a field,  crossed this little bridge.     One path leads to the Wild Wood, a remnant of the woodland which covered the land 10,000 years ago.   You can see it in the distance.

Wild Wood

As Toby and I approached, I could hear a woodpecker hard at work hammering on some trees, searching for his breakfast, busy as a workman with a jackhammer.      We didn't venture far inside because

of this.    Old bottles and jars, mangled metal.   In little heaps.    I assume that the trust which owns the woodland has started a programme of making the place clean and safe.    I couldn't risk having Toby cut his pads, so we stuck to the fields margins instead, made do with peering through the hedges and over the boundary ditch.   

Little glimpses of big fairy doors, glorious green moss, brilliant orange lichen.    A place of great beauty.   






I hope you are all enjoying a wonderful weekend.
x

My Sunday

The field margins were muddy again today.   No matter, we are used to that and, unlike the dog, at least I had my Wellington boots on.

I dislike walking on slippery clay mud but around this area that is what you get, one lives with it, or walks the lanes instead.     

There were the usual imprints of boots and I amused myself by trying to identify who may have already walked their dog along the track - it is a very small community!     I could also see the usual  deer tracks.

Then my heart skipped a beat - badger tracks!  This is the first time I have seen any along here, though we definitely know they are around.    A few years ago part of the tarmac lane, just outside our house, collapsed due to badger activity.

A walk with the dog is one thing, a muddy walk with the dog is quite another.   An hour of walking is followed by ten minutes spent getting the mud off the dog and then rubbing him dry with a towel which I had left on the boot room radiator specially for him!

A cup of tea revived me.    The dog had a dog biscuit, followed by a long and contented snooze, lucky boy.

I, meanwhile, set to work with pots and pans.   I made a big vat of vegetable soup, a spicy butterbean and tomato casserole, and an Olde English Cider Cake.   That is it, apart from feeding my ever-hungry grandchildren who called in for an hour.     Oh, and I worked through the ironing while listening to the omnibus edition of The Archer's on radio 4.

The rest of the day is my own, unless the grandchildren come calling again.

How do you spend your Sunday?