After the last few weeks spent either being ill or very cold (I think we're turning into Canada!) I decided there was no better time to make some changes around the place. I am one of those people ;-) Having spent a good deal of time in the bedroom recently, I decided that we really should get the end-wall painted to match the others. So, on Sunday evening we set out painting. We went from bright-red to buttercream in 2 coats, I am chuffed, and the difference it makes to the light in there is incredible. The red wasn't our choice, but after changing the other 3 walls in the room from white to cream, we left the red one as we were just too tired to do any more.

We also had to remove two shelves either side of the bed, one of which just refused to be moved - a few expletives and phonecalls to a knowledgeable parent-in-law later and it was off (with the Fiancé grinning from ear-to-ear).

The end result is thus - apologies for the rather rubbish picture, but the light has, of late, been rather poor (lovely rain/sleet/hail we've been having recently!)


[bedroom wall minus bright, garish redness and now a rather serene 'buttercream']

I am preparing for a visit from the inlaws, at the weekend, which should be exciting. But leaves me a whole week to worry about everything from not having things ready in time to forgetting to change the bath mat. I am, however, so completely excited about xmas that it is unreal. I eagerly await the 1st, when I plan on getting up early and sitting downstairs in my dressing gown and double-layered bedsocks (to keep my poor cold feet warm!) to enjoy a cup of xmas tea in total darkness. Then turning on the TV to listen to the overabundance of xmas music that will be plaguing us for the next month and a half, but that makes me feel very seasonal.

The FIL-to-be's stripy cammo coloured scarf has been finished. I did a silly thing and ended up casting on one too many stitches (ok, 30 too many - I ended up with 70!) but it will be good to wrap his neck and head in when he trolls up and down the countryside as he frequently likes to do. I have now started on the MIL-to-be's scarf, done in a deep purplish Sirdar aran in a 7x3 rib, which is really simple and understated (and only 30sts - hallelujah!). It grows really quickly, and already I have done over a foot of it (I started yesterday) which leaves me with great hopes that it will be done in time for xmas!

Now I am off to bed, to sleep, in our newly harmonised bedroom and dream of knitted sheep (I think I'm heading for a Wallace and Gromit moment here, where's Shawn? hehe)

My heart rises when it snows. The thought of snowmen, deep white fields of cool icy crystals, a brand-new canvas to look at. It changes the landscape so completely that it could be anywhere. I doubt we'll get the 25cm reported in some counties, but I can't wait to see those flakes falling, whenever they decide to fall. I will be all warm and tucked up, totes socks firmly on my little feet, camera in hand ready to catch the first few flakes falling.


[snow tracks left by the resident fallow deer, a common sight early on cold mornings at the old house]

I was a snow-baby, way back in 1986 when I was born, the country was under a deep blanket of ice which lasted all the way through January, through February, and through March. Ever since then, I can't see enough snow fall, or feel enough snowflakes on my face. Last year, whilst renting our quarrymens cottage, we were subject to many deluges, some over 1 foot deep. It was marvellous, I spent many long hours out there frolicking with our dog, who fount it rather novel that it was edible! So, if you're in England over the coming days, make yourself comfy, find a good book, pacify the dog/kids, and enjoy the gorgeous white blanket that will be enveloping us.


[virgin snow captured early in the morning, at the old house]

I am not the overly-emotional sappy type, I keep my feelings pretty under-wraps, but I think some things just need to be said. This is a really big thankyou, to my Fiancé for his love and for his support. Without him, life would be a lot harder than it is. Over the last few weeks, he has worked his socks off, looked after me when I've been ill, helped around the house, spoiled me rotten and been there for me when I've really needed a hug. He is always there to talk to, when I just need a friend, and he is there as my companion and soulmate too. We don't always get on, and with my fiery fiesty temperament we do sometimes bicker, but however much we've yelled at each other, we always kiss and make-up in the end. Through my dark days, through my troubles he has always come through, and doesn't give it a second thought.

He is a domestic god when it comes to tidying things (I clean, he tidies) and doing the washing up. He helps whenever he's around, and although he's been really worked off his feet with all the overtime, he still managed to help me make a gorgeous meal last night, and then went to wash up without being asked. He made the kitchen look all sparkly afterwards, too :-)

It is amazing how profound an effect the smallest things can have on someone. But for me, he is everything I want in a man and more besides. Love is this new, wonderful thing when it first hits you, but that love evolves over time. It changes so much, it grows, it doesn't die. It may not be so fiery, but it is always there. To me, that is the real sustaining love. The stuff that keeps people together, keeps people going through thick and thin. Yesterday really highlighted this for me. Given a hypothetical situation, of having to choose between his other love; computing and me, he said he'd give up everything for me. I hope, given the same situation, I'd do the same for him :-)

So, to my Fiancé, you know who you are, this is for you. This is a big hug, and a big thankyou, for keeping me going through good and bad. I love you all the more for it. One day, when we're old and wrinkly, I can still see us holding hands in our home, just the same as now.

There was a beautiful house in the middle of the countryside. It was a large stone-built house, as it was once the old quarrymens cottages. There was a peaceful sleepy atmosphere to the place. Inside was a large old inglenook fireplace, beautiful wooden floors, and Victorian sash-windows. Surrounding the place was land belonging to the house, a whole 4 acres, which housed rabbits, pheasants, fallow deer, long-tailed tits, wild cats, and foxes, to name but a few. It was magical at dawn and dusk, when the semi-silhouetted background of the trees shone through with the first, or last, rays of light. From the kitchen window as far as the eye could see, fields growing tall with their crops, and the occasional four-hooved visitor if the weather was bad. We had Tara, a gorgeous little rabbit who we saw go from tiny baby rabbit, to mother, in the space of 6 months. She used to come out quite openly, and accept the small vegetable scraps we left out for her, although she was never tame. Mr Fez (a pheasant), our resident 'big bird' also came regularly, to peck the seeds fallen from the bird feeders. It was spectacular.


[Tara, the wild house-rabbit, at a young age]


[Our view over the land that surrounded the house, in April 2005, at sunset]

But under this façade, lay another side to this beautiful idyll of ours. The house was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but it was always cold. In the depths of winter, the heating was never enough to keep us warm, we were frequently without warm water, and had to endure cold baths. It was cold in other ways, too. The house was old, but had some bad blood in its past. The current owner, whom we were renting the house from, was given the house in a bloody divorce settlement, from a man whose mother had died in the house. I never felt any bad presences, spirits or ghosts, but the house did always have a bad 'feeling' to it. It was a drain on us both emotionally and financially, and by the time May swung around, we were ready to be out of that place for good.

I do miss the animals, the little rabbits bounding about, the virgin snow at 6am as deep as your knees, all just for me. But I don't miss sleeping in jumpers and coats, having cold baths, and waking to find the laundry room flooded. Nor the feeling of incredible sadness, that permeated us constantly whilst we lived there. It was a beautiful place, but sadly neglected by its owners. We were just interlopers at that place, and we'll never forget it - after all it was the first house we lived in together 'alone' - but it makes us all the more pleased that we have the home we have now. Not only is it ours, but it is warm, snug, and full of love. Our neighbour who lived in this house as a child, said that this house was always full of love. It can be felt all around and it is splendid.

After my recent bout of the most vile flu, I am feeling much better. Even to the point of baking a cake at 7.30 this morning! Which, if you know me, is just unheard of. Yesterday I went out into town when I really should've stayed at home - I could be heard coughing and spluttering around the city like a trooper. Which left me in a foul mood, and The Fiancé feeling the ill-effects of his long days at the office. We went home pretty quickly. Today, though I was up with the sun and wide-awake. After baking the cake and having a most relaxing cuppa, it was off to the supermarket to do the boring weekly shop, when it hit me that we hadn't yet got our turkey for the big day! So, after trolling around the dayglo-aisles we drove back via our local farm-shop and enquired. After much umming and aaahhh-ing we decided upon a free-range, well-loved, 12lb bird (all food should be free range). Which should see 3 adults (and a dog, if she's lucky) for at least 2 days. I love to make soup with the turkey afterwards, which always tastes so wonderful. I get to collect it (if it will fit in my teeny car) on the 23rd! That is now another weight of my mind, in readiness for the 'big day'. Heh, now I just have to make sure that it'll fit in our oven (which it should... just).

As for xmas presents I am still stumped, I haven't had the same chances that I've had before to just go into town, seeing as we live that bit further away than we did. So I will have to brave the drive and go into town one day soon to get the majority of the presents before the xmas rush (which I completely avoid wherever possible!)

Knowing how unwell I've been for the last week, Mum has always been at the end of the phone willing to perk me up. At my worst she was calling regularly to make sure that I was ok, that I was keeping myself warm ("Yes, mum") and drinking plenty of water ("Yes, mum") hehe. Although she was worried about me, just knowing that someone was at the end of the phone whenever I needed to grunt into it was a great help.

This morning a rather loud parcel 'plopped' through my letterbox, containing two things. A book for me, as she knew that I'd just finished the last book she sent me, and a bar of rather sumptuous Lindt dark chocolate (hardcore 70% stuff) which I know has been found to help with sore throats and coughs - although she included it for the pure pleasure factor ;-)



So, this is for my Mum, to say thanks for your love, phonecalls and letters when I was feeling really dire.

And also a big thankyou to Amber who called daily to check up on me, and to provide me with the gossip and goings on to keep my mind off the flu!

Of those who gave their lives to help keep this country free. Who fearlessly fought to save lives, to save us, and protect us as a nation. I don't like war, to be honest I hate it, but I won't forget those who have taken part and died to do what they have done for us. To their families, my sincerest sympathies, I hope you managed to carry on. For their bravery, their courage, their beliefs I admire them, and for their willingness I thank them.

And on this day, 10 years ago, my grandmother also left us. I shall remember her too, for her zeal, her love and her humour. I miss her very much and hope she's well wherever she may be. I will not forget, I'll keep my fond memories wrapped up in my heart, and love you forever more.

November hasn't ever been my month, really. It was the month, 10 years ago, when my grandmother died whilst my mother and I were suffering very badly ourselves with the flu. A few years later a dear friend of ours also passed away. It is a month that always seems cold and forboding. This year, it seems is no different. I am sat here, slightly shivering, feeling like death. I also look like death, but seeing as I have been feeling deathly for the last few days, I don't overly care about my appearance. I have had a nasty dose of the flu, my 3rd dose within a year! Quite frankly, I still feel awful. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel, as for the first time in what seems like forever, I am sat up and managing to walk around, eating small things here and there, and writing this to you! I also had to venture out (The Fiancé is so busy with work we only get to see each other for maybe an hour a day - not including sleep - so he doesn't have chance to go shopping etc) today to our local shop-with-chemist to get something to put up my nose, something to stop the temperature that I've had now for the last 4 days, and something foody that doesn't need any thought. I got back into the car, and sat there, boiling to death, slurping water and taking co-codamol like they were Smarties praying that I would feel well enough to drive home. I did, thankfully, and I am here now, just about to go back to bed so that I don't over-exert my already-weary body any more!

So this will be quick, just a little 'hello' to you all, I hope you're well and I shall be back with gusto when this 'bug' has finished with me ;-)

Meet my friend, Lotus (not quite her name, rather her 'design'). She is a good few years older than most, but she is a dear sweet thing who never misses a stitch. She was made in 1921, in Scotland (where nearly all British Singers were made). I can only imagine where she has been and what she has seen in her life. She escaped the fate of alot of old hand-crank Singers, the dreaded electric motor. She was found in a charity shop earlier this year, and was rescued before anyone else could nab her. At some point in her lifetime she had been kept in a cold damp place, thus getting a little bit of rust and her wooden case has come slightly unstuck. But she works like a dream, there is something to be said for the gentle tick-tock and click-clack of a manual machine. She only does one stitch, in variable sizes, she has a rather wonderful way of winding bobbins, and is mechanically a work of art. Some ingenious soul, many years ago, added a really useful pin-holder, which is just that - really useful! I wonder how many dresses, pairs of curtains and other wonderous things she has made in her lifetime of over 80 years. She takes pride of place in my creative haven, is dusted with love, and is used often. What more could befit a lady of her age and beauty?