14 January 2014

after the frost



In Norwich at the weekend, we mooched around the market and saw some splendid  - and expensive - forced rhubarb.  Despite the temptation to buy some, practicality got the better of me and  I left it glowing pinkly on the stall among the caulis and greens.

Down at the allotment the next day after our first winter frost we found this pushing up from beneath the mighty feed of autumn compost - the first fragile leaves of our own rhubarb. 

There's a rhubarb forcer around somewhere, and it's about time it was put to work. 

12 January 2014

on post cards and coincidences



I had a couple of outings with a friend this week and among our rambling conversations, the sort commonplace among people who have known each other for a very long time, was a discussion on the need to continue to write postcards to each other so that our random thoughts would not be lost in the ether. She also said at another point in our conversation that as the weather was going to get colder she was planning to buy a pair of snow boots. The very idea of her wearing snow boots, whatever they might be, is funnier than you might ever know, but one of her reasons for this is that without sensible footwear her gait will begin to resemble that of Hercule Poirot. Think about it. It really is so true. It is exactly how people walk on ice.

Then half an hour ago or so there was an email:

"I do like a coincidence. Just standing by my mirror in the kitchen last night after I got back and just pulled this out from behind some other postcards... The date, the Poirot reference ..... Xxx. "

It may be a new year, but some things don't change as much as we might like to think. I'd still like a check dress like Molly's; and I'll still be writing post cards. Do add it to the list of resolutions.

02 January 2014

beginning to lighten the load


The good thing about having a rather broad guiding statement for the year is that it can cover all kinds of weather. Even after staying up until the hours, a late invitation to spend New Year's Day with friends  at the seaside seemed like a good start to lightening the load, We spent the day in a warm shed, wiping the condensation off the windows to watch the muddy waters and a young boy walking the dogs, listening to the wind buffeting the building, sharing a meal. Seems like a very good start to me.

Wishing you many happy days too.