Enjoying Winter

Hello again, and a Happy ✩ New ✩ Year to you! 

I hope you had a great Christmas - it does seem like quite a while ago now, doesn't it? We had a lovely one here - just the four of us, P, D, J and I. We missed B but she is having wonderful adventures on the other side of the world, so we enjoyed Skyping her instead. It takes me a while to adjust to the routine of everyday life after all the sparkle of Christmas, so I keep twinkly fairy lights up all year in the dining room and kitchen. You really can't have enough fairy lights in my opinion. It's been good to catch up with a bit of crochet in the evenings accompanied by candles (of course) and a cup of rose tea.

I'm making another mandala mat for the table in the soft cotton colours I liked so much last spring,

 and here's a wintry one I made in December. I have no pattern to share, as I make them up as I go, frogging back here and there to make them how I want them, and each is different as a result.





Back in November I did a fused glass workshop one evening, which I told you about here. I'd had a go at this a few years ago, making myself a pendant and promised myself I'd one day do more. Cutting tiny pieces of glass and laying them out like a jigsaw puzzle was such fun. My fused glass pieces came back from being fired recently and I'm thrilled with the results. Here's the sun-catcher that was inspired by heathery hills and blue skies.

And here's the hare coaster that I made using powdered glass. As a result of doing this workshop, I've finally realised one of my long-held ambitions and have started a stained glass course. I love the wonderful colours and light-changing qualities of glass and am so enjoying my weekly dose of glass-related creativity.

  A week or two ago there was snow for a good deal of the country, and we were greeted one morning by this not-very-spectacular sprinkling of icing sugar. It looked more like frost than snow, and despite the inconvenience it causes I must admit I do yearn for a bit of proper snow. It's been 4 years since our last snowfall here.

Once the festivities are behind us I start to look for flowers, and love the sight of them in the garden, on windowsills and in shops. Our hellebores aren't out yet, but this one called to me in the supermarket last week. I'm not usually a huge fan of white flowers, but the purity and simplicity of this flower was irresistible.

The little violas on our outdoor windowsill have been blooming away all winter, and in my parents' garden last week there was bright yellow winter jasmine and richly-hued skimmia, as well as heavenly scented viburnum. I'm crazy for its pastel-pinkness and talcum power fragrance.

The outdoors is calling more and more and yesterday was my favourite weather of all, crisp, wintry sunshine and sparkling frost, so we set off for a walk at Stourhead, a place we have been to many times, and which formed part of our children's lives when they were little. As the National Trust's nearest large property, it was a great place to take them to burn off steam, so much so that it got to the point where the suggestion of a visit was greeted with wails of "Nooo, not Stourhead again!" Luckily, that response is long gone and J, who was home for a visit from university, accompanied us yesterday. Annoyingly by the time we arrived the sunshine had disappeared, but it was nevertheless a perfect day for a walk.

On such a freezing day it was sheer delight to discover that these hot pink rhododendrons were already in flower. They looked almost tropical against the frosted lawns.

The first of the snowdrops had emerged too,

as well as some very early primroses.

All around us the palette was one of white, green and brown, but on closer inspection the delicate details of moss, bark and leaves were very beautiful, despite their subdued colours.

Classical Greek and Roman-style temples abound around the lake, making beautiful reflections.

Inside the temples there are impressive statues, but we didn't stay there for long, much preferring to be outside.

My favourite building at Stourhead is the sweet, tiny Gothic cottage.

In the winter a log fire is always lit inside, and you can buy a hot drink or a snack there. It was bliss to stand for a moment or two to warm ourselves in front of the flames.

There are man-made features all around the lake, including this 'ruin', and a grotto.

Deep in the grotto Poseidon was looking suitably imperious, if a little chilly. 

This view was taken yesterday, and on the right 3 years ago on a warm early October day. How the colours change with the seasons.

The upper lake was frozen over and looked beautiful, edged with faded bullrushes. J enjoyed skimming stones across the ice, creating a weird sci-fi sound effect (there are lots of videos of this effect on the internet, but I don't know if it has a name).

After our walk around the lake we stopped to warm up with refreshments in the cafe - hot chocolates and flapjacks, which were very welcome. We drove home as the sun was setting, looking forward to more of these sorts of days in the coming year.

After all that wintry scenery I shall leave you with this lovely little iris which opened on our kitchen windowsill last night. 

Its deep, dark blue flowers are best photographed from above, I discovered.

Hope you're keeping warm and enjoying winter too. 

See you soon x

Wintry Walking

Hello! Me again, back after my break, although in truth I haven't been anywhere at all. I've been pootling along here at The House with the Blue Door, busy as usual and noticing how life here has changed since I started blogging. Now that there are just three of us at home, and very often just the two of us, I find that I have more unexpected free time, and I've been using it to look after myself. Eating healthier food, getting lots of exercise, going to bed earlier, having time away from screens, that sort of thing, and I'm feeling better, and lighter, for it which makes me happy.

One particular joy is that I've started to have violin lessons again after a 4-year gap, and it's lovely to be playing again. P has been learning guitar, ukelele and now banjo over the last year, and we are now at a stage when we can play together, which is the best fun.

I've also found time to be creative, knitting myself a charcoal grey scarf in double seed stitch (you can't have too many scarves in my opinion),



making jewellery from semi-precious stones (citrine, amber and garnet),



and trying a new craft - a fused glass workshop which I absolutely LOVED. Here are the coaster and sun-catcher that I made: a running hare and heathery moorland. They will be fired in a kiln and I will have the finished items back soon. Can't wait.

As well as all this I've got myself organised a bit earlier than usual and have managed to make both the Christmas cake and pudding ALREADY. This is a first for me, and I am enjoying a slightly smug feeling as a result. If I write Christmas cards soon too I will be amazed at myself.

Over the last couple of weeks the weather here has turned very chilly indeed and we have had some wonderful frosts. I took a few snatched photos in the garden before work last week when the sun had just risen and Jack Frost had worked his magic over night. How I hated tearing myself away to go off to work and return just as dark was falling! The sunshine and sharp, tingly air called to me to walk for miles, rather than spending the day indoors in centrally-heated classrooms.

After a busy day of Christmas shopping yesterday, my wish came true this morning when P and I set our alarm early, ate a quick breakfast and, suitably wrapped in warm coats, hats, gloves and scarves, set off into the bright cold air. After clear skies last night there had been another sharp frost, and the world around us had turned white, as we headed up the hill.

 

Our shadows looked like those of creatures with tiny bodies and long legs.

Once we were at the bottom of the hill this gorgeous spotty pig came up to us hoping for food, and grunting loudly the whole time.

Although the sun was quite warm, the places where it had not reached stayed in their own little frozen worlds of white.

A bright, translucent amber leaf hung on, a reminder of autumn,

and these congealed brambles on an old sleeper looked as if they'd been artfully brushed with ice.

The path follows an old railway line, which we have walked many times and which ran along beside us as we strolled.

Trees cast long shadows across the furrows of undulating fields.

And here and there a splash of brilliant red as rose-hips glowed against the blue sky.

I love the edges of fields where the trees start, and this hedgerow looked especially beautiful decorated with rime.

 

The brook babbled away to itself, keeping us company as we walked and seed-heads grew everywhere, looking very sculptural against their surroundings.

With no leaves to obscure them the lichens on trees come into their own at this time of year, twisty and mysterious like tiny grey seaweeds

and emerald stars.

When we got home we'd walked about 4 miles and only been gone a couple of hours. Being active in the bracing air and soaking up vitamin D was the best way to spend this Sunday morning in my favourite of all weathers.

Hope your weekend has been a good one too x