Saturdays are met with great anticipation. We try to make the most of them because I work on Sundays and so Saturdays are the only day that my husband and I get to spend together. There are certain little rituals we try very hard to adhere to, like finding our favourite tea-room and having a coffee. And doing something worthwhile. This weekend we went to our local tea-room (where the ladies know us, and only serve lovely homemade treats) then onto the National Trust house and spent a very enjoyable few hours walking, taking in the cool but bright weather and taking lots, and lots of photos.

Despite the frosty start, the frozen puddles and the thoroughly-iced garden, the walk around the estate was beautiful, deserted and bracing.

We saw beautiful skies and snowdrops, and kept our eyes skyward as we listened to birdsong, watched the whisps of clouds and saw our breath steam.

Walking further on we came to the woodland surrounding the estate and its gardens. This woodland is old and has been here for countless centuries. I couldn't help but touch the serrated bark of this old tree. Its girth was so large that it would've taken four or more people to encircle it completely. I settled for touching the bark, and watching a nuthatch wedge a nut into the bark and then hammer it until the nut was opened.

Yew trees and yew hedges remind me of the grand houses in Dorset and Somerset that we visited. Montacute house in particular is riddled with these 'green corridors'. In October they are covered with their fleshy red cones, but in February they are dotted with these little male flowers.

Though the garden wasn't completely bare, it was rather green. Few flowers to photograph, so I took my camera into the conservatory where I could better see all forms of tropical plants. Flowering cyclamens and hyacinths were in abundance, hundreds all around the room.

We found out that our begonia is actually one of the enormous 'elephant-ear' types, as they had one too! It was a healthy 5-feet and growing. I have grand plans for our own!

Once we had walked the entire length of the garden, we turned and came home. This was one of the last, perfect pictures that I took. It is the reflection in a pool as calm as ice.

We hopped back into my car and headed home (that's my husband taking the photos~ I was driving!).

We saw fields of yellow rape flowering, in February, which is very much the wrong time. They are usually May to July flowering.

With the quiet English country roads to ourselves we enjoyed chatting on the way home. The day was beautiful.

And coming back from work yesterday, what smells met me as I got in the door? Mmmm, my husband had prepared a meal, of the most sumptuous sort, for this hardworkin' gal.