Oh my. We are never happy are we. Too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too dry. But I have to admit this last week or so has been Baltic. Been right brass monkey weather. The bonus against cold v wet is that at least you can layer up. Ok there are days when I looked like a Michelin man. But warmth over style rules when it’s freezing. But. A bit of frost. A bit of snow. Great for photos right?
This is the lane at the back of the cottage. The road to granny and grandads. Like the roundabout that’s not a roundabout Intalk about in Spain they aren’t my granny and grandad. But if you’ve read any of my blogs you’ll know that. Taken early one morning with a coffee in one hand and my iPhone in another. A morning chat with Farmer Paul on the bridge on his way to start the day with his cattle. To be fair I had gone into the lane as there was a water leak running down the hill. Don’t even get me started on trying to report the leak. Online report only. Wanted so many of my details before I could report. I nearly gave up the will to live
I usually creep over the old bridge. Not that I’d disturb the neighbours but you never know what’s on the river. That morning I could have kicked myself. Four. Yes four white egrets flew up as I passed. Try taking a photo quickly with coffee in one hand and the other hand in your coat pocket. Epic fail. But trust me. It was a sight.
There were some spectacular icicles hanging down from the viaduct. The ones hanging down our front door from an overflowing tank in the loft weren’t quite as spectacular but I nearly impaled myself on them as I opened the door. Thankfully quickly sorted. The leak. Not me.
It makes everything look so pretty. Not that I’m biased. I love the village and it is a bit picture perfect. But I love that it’s also still a working village. Cattle. Sheep. Hay. Straw and for my godchildren ( not the farming ones) ~ the DFL’s ~ the tractors and agricultural machinery.
I had the urge to recreate that scene from The Holiday where Cameron Díaz runs across the field back to the house. Two things stopped me. There wasn’t really enough snow. And the running. Oh. And Ian was still fast asleep back at the cottage. This field is Alders. Not the department store. But I suspect named after the line of alder trees along the river bank which are no longer. After the flood the line of trees on the bank were removed to allow the field to act as an overflow for the river.
Our decision to be at the cottage last week was to plant the tulip pots. I didn’t plan on the weather. I knew it was cold. I knew I was waiting for a cold spell. But I didn’t bargain on having to remove the top 4 inches of compost as it was frozen solid. I wanted to remove half of the compost anyway but not with a pick axe and a screwdriver.
But. I did it. Compost removed. New compost bought. But. Another but. The compost from the local gardening centre was frozen. I had no option. As well as warm my feet by the wood burner two bags of peat free compost were being de frosted,
And yes. I did it. Well. 12 of the 15 pots. The last two defeated me with more frost and snow.
These aren’t all the colours. As usual I started with the plan. And the weather and the cold got to me. So it will be a dolly mixture again this year. Plus. Three pots will be done in January.
Back to the views. The days and the light changes so quickly and as well as the frosty grey days the morning light can be magical. As long as you are up early enough. Wrapped up. And with a hot drink in your hand.
The same view on a different day. The day before the snow and frost pic. Look at that sky. No filter. iPhone 12 Pro. Right time. Right place.
Ifuvuvuvuvu
I haven’t cut anything back in the garden this autumn/winter. I’d like to say it has been planned. But in reality it’s either been too wet for this fair weather gardener or I just haven’t had the time. But it certainly makes for a pretty sight in the frost and the birds have been loving the seed heads. And one single frosted rose looked fabulous.
We both had to go back to London mid visit. The plan was to go by train and stay for two nights and head back for the weekend to attend a friends 60th. Best laid plans and all that. We had to be in London. So we had to drive. Being back we also had our usual walk through the park which was also looking good.
No sticking to the paths for us. I couldn’t walk on blocks of ice. No doubt I’d be flat on my back. But back to Somerset it was and a hideous journey with the A303 closed near Stonehenge and a diversion over Salisbury Plain. Great views. Slippery roads.
Just back in time for the carol service at St Leonard’s church Pitcombe. It’s been a while since I’ve been. Many years ago. Decades actually the parish priest called me a festival worshipper. Christmas. Easter. Harvest festival. Patronal festival. He didn’t say it as a bad thing. But he was right. I was there to sing the hymns & the carols. Oh. And for the mince pies and mulled wine.
I can’t remember seeing the stained glass looking so bright. Possibly as I was ambling along in the dark looking up for a change.
And no. I didn’t get the last three pots done. They had frosted again and I had lost the will to live. But I saw my godson who asked what I was doing later in the afternoon. Oh. I thought. He’s coming down with his girlfriend. No. Don’t be silly. I have my uses as does Ian. Any chance you can stand in the road. I’m bringing the sheep through from church ground and I need you both to stop them going up pitcombe Rock. How 20 years makes a difference. One day I’m feeding him his bottle. The next I’m watching him lead the sheep through the village.
That’s Somerset done until 2023. Strikes. Trains. Planes and weather permitting we head away for the Christmas and new year festivities. Some more tulip planting ~ I must take them out of the fridge before Ian realises that’s where they have been stored for the last month. I won’t need a pick axe to plant there. We have had the long awaited rain. And no. The rain in Spain doesn’t stay mainly on the plain.
There will be supper with friends. An overnight in Malaga to see the Christmas lights. A visit to the Botanical gardens to see the illuminations. Some gardening. Oh. And you know there will be the usual ramblings.
If not I’ll be planting those last three pots.
Gardens. Travel. Life. 