December 2, 2013
That suffering from a cold + December drizzle + bi-directional headwind + frozen toes = a less than pleasant experience on the bike this morning (they can’t ALL be wonderful I suppose). If Saturday’s ride was a restorative, today’s was more of a ‘it will be lovely when it stops’ affair – and, indeed, when I did stop and got in and retrieved my jumper which I had left warming on the Rayburn it was lovely. There’s nothing like going out and getting frozen for making the house feel warm – and it’s cheaper than turning on the heating.*
* ‘Have you been writing in to the Guardian?’ the other half asked this weekend as he came across this
November 18, 2013
The forecast this morning was full of doom and gloom and frost and snow and ice and lions and tigers and bears (oh my). Otherwise known as ‘winter’.
But not quite yet, and today it was still all mellow fruitfulness as autumn lingered like the morning mist.
Time to get the ice tyres on the bike soon …
November 13, 2013
At some point last week I imperceptibly made the move from working on the other half’s super duper two-screen computer, to squinching everything back onto my suddenly very small laptop screen. The reason being that the super duper computer is in the other half’s study while my laptop can be moved into the kitchen and hence close proximity to the Rayburn. Meanwhile, even when it’s not raining, the attractiveness of going outside – or even into the sitting room before an advance party has been sent to light the stove – is steadily diminishing. In short, the circumference of my daily round is contracting to its winter dimensions and while it’s quite pleasant now to lean my back against the Rayburn and watch the wind blow every leaf in Bigtownshire past our kitchen window, I know that come February it will feel as if I have been sitting in the kitchen for my entire life.
So I’m fortunate that I do still have to pedal off to fetch the paper every morning. Not just yesterday – when the sun had just risen over the hill as I set off, and bathed everything in a gorgeous slanting light – but even on days like today when it was a slog into the wind under a grey sky. Sometimes it’s a bit of a wrench to drag myself out, but I never regret it once I’m gone. Even the wretchedly wet rides, while not pleasant in themselves, are becoming something of a necessity (and almost bearable if I’ve had the foresight to pile a warm dry change of clothes on the Rayburn for my return). If I didn’t get out all day, somewhere, anywhere, I’d soon be climbing the walls.
The other half, wrestling impatiently with the Guardian this morning, muttered something about getting an iPad instead. I reacted with horror. Sure I could go out for a daily hour-long bike ride whether I was getting the paper or not, but really, what are the chances of that happening all winter long? I thought when we moved here that an 11-mile round trip to fetch a paper was a bit of a chore and a daft endeavour. Little did I realise how dependent on it I would become…
January 16, 2012
Those snowdrops must be regretting their imprudence because the frost is back with a bang; we’re not complaining though because it’s dry and sparkly and sunny as well as bitterly cold. Well, maybe we’re complaining a little bit…
I don't think much of this episode of Sherlock
Either way, it’s just the sort of weather for snuggling up on the sofa with a warm cat but our days of doing that are over: the neighbour has returned to reclaim his cat, and there’s an enormous (though marginally smaller since the diet kicked in) furry cat-shaped hole in our life. We get visiting rights but it just isn’t the same…
January 9, 2012
After the last two winters we’ve had, the start to 2012 has been astoundingly mild – confirmed by the snowdrops coming up almost a month earlier than they did last year (how do they know?). A somewhat less welcome milestone was passed yesterday, when I managed to inhale my first insect while cycling of 2012. Surely, you’d think, in January you would be safe? Not, I hasten to add, that I’m complaining.
And today? Today it’s been mild and sunny and not blowing a gale and that’s three things we don’t expect to coincide until at least May. It won’t last, but I’ve been enjoying it while I can. And keeping my mouth firmly shut while I’m out on the bike.
December 4, 2011
We’ve just had our first snow
So why are you still flowering in December?
I think my garden is just thoroughly confused.
Which is appropriate enough, I suppose!
February 19, 2011
Talking to my neighbour the other day: ‘I’m so behind with the garden that when I saw it was raining I decided to just grit my teeth and get out anyway. And then I felt how cold the wind was and promptly ungritted them and went back in.’
Today I’m trying to decide whether to follow her former example or the latter…
January 4, 2011
… turns out they’re not hardy to -18°C, or whatever it was we missed.
The broccoli’s not looking too clever either, although I think it will survive
In fact, the frost even felled the water butt. The ice bowed out the base and turned it into a giant Weeble, without the ‘won’t fall down’ bit.
In fact the whole garden is looking pretty blah. I think the ground might have thawed enough to put a fork in, and I’ve digging still to do but today? Somehow I just didn’t fancy it.
How’s your garden looking?
December 3, 2010
We’ve officially reached that time of the year when the main purpose of going for a walk is to make the house feel warm when we get back in…
… that and fetching more wood for the fire.
Ross asks how the stove is performing now it’s really properly cold. Well, while still blooming marvellous, obviously, we’ve yet to find ourselves sitting around in t-shirts, or cowering behind the sofa (except when there are monster parsnips about, but that’s another matter). Partly it might be to do with the fact that we’ve yet to track down a really reliable source of seasoned hardwood where the wood that is delivered actually turns out to be seasoned hardwood and not on closer examination a mixed lot of seasoned hardwood, stuff that was lying around on the ground in the Duke of Buccleuch’s forests and not-really-very-seasoned-at-all hardwood. And partly it’s because once the stove gets going it has such a powerful draw that the draught in from the cooler parts of the house would probably turn a wind turbine. Suddenly the Victorians’ obsessions with high backed wing chairs and footstools makes a lot more sense. But at least we know we’re not going to die of carbon monoxide poisoning.
I read on one of the green housebuilding forums that once you start trying to heat your house with it, gathering wood goes from being a hobby to an obsession. We’re not quite there yet, partly because we’re still running the oil-fired heating in the morning, but I can see how that might happen. Already a woodland only looks like so much firewood to me. And if a tree falls in a forest and there’s nobody around to hear it? The real question is, do you think we could get to it before anyone else does first …
November 27, 2010
Today was not a day for doing any digging…
The snow can go one of two ways from here. Either it all just melts away and we forget all about it, or it hangs around until we’re sick of it. Either way, now’s the time to actually enjoy it.