Skip to main content

Relaxing Into the Darker Days

 I have an urge to do some knitting. I think I mentioned this not so long ago when I thought I wanted to knit a baggy jumper. However, it turns out that what I REALLY want to do is just sit and knit and not have to think about following a pattern. It is the ACT of knitting rather than a finished product I am hankering after. Therefore, then, I shall buy some lovely thick wool and knit a lovely thick woolly blanket because who doesn’t love a new blanket as Winter approaches? I might knit it in squares to sew together, or in long stripes to sew together or as a whole piece on a circular needle although it might grow a tad heavy for my poor old lady arms to deal with…

…who am I kidding?? I have STRONG arms because I am a gardener and cockapoo wrangler! But it might become unwieldy - yes, that’s a better word. Unwieldy. Anyway, the important thing is to find some delicious wool to work with, so when I am snuggled under the blanket I’ll look at it and sigh, and say, ‘What a lovely thing is this blanket of mine.’ 

I’ve been gathering various seed and flower heads from the garden with which to make some seasonal decorations - poppy heads, dried hydrangea flowers, honesty and teasels. Soon I shall have hop bines to add to the mix. Plenty of holly up the garden, too, and some evergreens. I’m thinking garlands and wreaths. There are winter pansies and sweet williams in the greenhouse all ready and eager to take over the courtyard pots for a bit of late season colour and cheer.

Also on my list is to come up with a design for the (ssshhhhh…) Damson Cottage Christmas card 2024. Just waiting for inspiration to strike, which it will, hopefully before 1st December. 

Can you believe it is almost 1st October? Blimey, the Summer shot by, didn’t it? Anyway, I’m now in full on study mode. Lots of reading to do and connections to make. Today, I’ve been working on some exercises from a book called ‘Reflective Practice - Writing and Professional Development’ by Gillie Bolton. It’s already proving to be a bit of an eye-opener. I’m reading a book called ‘Listen!’ by Dr Kathryn Mannix which is all about learning how to have meaningful conversations in difficult situations, and another book called ‘Sacred Oils’ by Felicity Warner, which is like aromatherapy but on a deeper, more spiritual and ancient level. I’m also ploughing through a lot of fiction, too, especially the books of Kate Morton. If you like a well-written 600 page family saga with twists and turns and excellent characterisations, these are the books for you. I’ve read four, just started number five and there are three more yet to go. 

The bathroom revamp project is pretty much sorted. We’ve gone for a pink and white theme. The sample of green for the cabinets that I thought I liked looked positively dark grey when I sat it in the bathroom. And we all know how I feel about grey, don’t we? I had visions of visitors saying, ‘Ooh, dark grey bathroom cabinets. How very modern and chic of you,’ and me muttering in reply through clenched teeth, ‘It’s not grey it’s green.’ It’d be like the bathroom tiles débâcle all over again.

‘Lovely light grey tiles in your bathroom, Denise!’ 

‘No! They are sky blue. That’s what it said on the packaging. SKY BLUE!’

‘They look grey to me…’

Sheesh…

So, glossy white cabinets and pink Aquaboard it is. Light, bright, warm and friendly. And NOT grey. I shall add green via the medium of plant life and maybe a new bathmat and towels. 

It’s been two weeks since my episode of minor surgery. The wound is now no bigger than a pinhead scab. The surrounding skin is a little pink but because I am very pale-skinned like an anaemic bride of Dracula, I am expecting this will take a few months to fade. I incurred a massive scratch on my forearm from the hawthorn hedge back in February and you can still see the faint line of it even now. All is good and well though. Lesson learned. 

Finally, I should like to introduce this gorgeous chap…


This is Danté, Heather and Oli’s new rescue cat. Isn’t he handsome? He reminds me a bit of Flora. He is around ten years old and came from a house where the old gentleman who owned him has, sadly, just died. It was all a bit serendipitous, really. A very quick adoption event. But he has settled in quickly, now he realises he has two new and devoted servants to pander to his every wish and whim. Some cats certainly do land on their feet. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Frosted Dawn Enigma

The decorators are in at the moment. Stairs and landing. Given my previous history of 'Hoo Ha Occurring on Stairs ' - reference the Trapped Under the Sofa Incident and the Foot Wedged Between Bookcase and Stair Rise Debacle - I thought it wise to pay for professionals to decorate the stairs and landing rather than get myself in a mix with ladder and plank combinations and achieve the Magic Three of staircase accidents. The decorators are a father and son combo who go by the  names of Craig and David. This automatically causes me entertainment. 'Came in on a Monday, prepped, filled and undercoated, back on Thursday, first top coating, by Friday finishing touches...' Okay, not as frisky or well-scanned as the original song, but you get where I'm coming from. Anyway, before they started the job Craig asked what colour I wanted for the walls. 'Same colour as the downstairs walls, please,' said I. 'Dulux Frosted Dawn.' And then white for all the woodw

Day 1 - Decisions Are Made Beyond the Author's Control.

‘Well,’ I say, looking at the expectant faces gathered around the huge table in the Great Dining Hall of Much Malarkey Manor, ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen this year, but it is!’ There is a sharp intake of breath as everyone wonders of what I speak. I’ve been muttering about all sorts recently, and I’m not talking liquorice here either.   ‘The Much Malarkey Manor Annual and Traditional Christmas Story!’ I say, and wait for the expulsed air of relief to settle before I continue. ‘I thought we had done it all. I thought we had covered every Christmas story there was. I’ve been wracking my brains for a full two months now, trying to come up with something we haven’t done before and then it hit me! We haven’t done a version of one of the Great Christmas Films of Yore!’ ‘Your what?’ says Mrs Slocombe, who is more interested in the selection of pastries I have brought to this breakfast meeting, because that is what one does, isn’t it? Eat pastries at breakfast mee

Sun Puddles

A few weeks ago, I met up with a dear friend for a meditation and healing afternoon, both of us being light workers on the spirit pathway. It did me good to re-engage in a bit of focused energy channelling (because I have let my practice slip somewhat) and during the afternoon the words ‘sun puddles’ popped into my head.  Now, I know this wasn’t my human brain thinking these words because I have never heard the phrase before; when I arrived home, I looked it up and said to myself, ‘Aaah, you mean sun spots!’ This is a sun puddle... ...there! That thing that Flora is lying on. No, not the sofa - the warm patch of sunshine on the sofa. Here are Flora and Bambino sharing a sun puddle... This proves that no matter how much they scrap with each other and try to denude each other of fur all over my rugs, they secretly share a mutual and fond admiration. I think. And here is Bambino on a sun puddle that has come to rest on my legs... It’s his casual, ‘I’m so cool’ pose. Metaphorically cool, o