Thursday, 4 February 2010


Moving house is a bit like having a hair cut. As soon as you have absolutely decided on it, you start to really appreciate what you've already got. Today, while most sensible people were hiding from the freezing mist-drizzle-sleet (yes, all of those at the same time) inside, Nathaniel and I decided to go out for a walk in the meadows behind our house. It was actually his idea - he brought me the carrier just as the sleet started to splatter the windows.

But as the obedient parent that I am, I put us all in coats and snowsuits and gloves and hats and scarves and took us all outside. And I'm very pleased that I did. It was lovely. The sleet accomodatingly stopped and left us in a thick cotton-woolly fog. There was no-one else around and we had the fields to ourselves. Even the sheep were absent. We enjoyed squelching through mud (Nathaniel has read the Bear Hunt book about 3 times a day for the last week, so he is well acquainted with mud), and watching the crows silently flap out of the gloom and catching the drips from the bare branches. Everything was muffled except for the occasional cry of "boa(t), boa(t)!" and "bir(d), bir(d)" (Nathaniel hasn't quite mastered the final consonant of words yet). We had such a nice time.

I wanted to take photos of how pretty it was, but I think even Ian's swish camera would have been hard-pressed to capture the wierd dusk-like qualities of the stillness. My phone didn't really do a very good job:

Then we came home and made rooibos (Nathaniel's favourite drink at the minute) and toast and bramble jam. Much fun!

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