Tuesday, 23 February 2010


I'm sat in the living room this evening. It's been a busy day at work, a quick (but lovely and wholesome) tea, and then out again to spend an hour in a portacabin with three beautiful women. So I was ready to come home and just sit for a while. There's been lots going on in the kitchen, and I've been sitting here listening to the bustling and singing. It's snowing outside, and the street looks strangely erie in the streetlights. I love this room for its big picture windows, the way you can just sit and watch people wandering past.

And onto inside. I've got my knitting on my knee - just the thing for a night like this. And beyond that, the other sofa, with a red rope light running along the floor. We don't do ceiling lights in this house - atmospheric lighting all the way. There's the laptop on the floor, and my cast-off cowboy boots where I left them in the middle of the room. At the end of the sofa is Neddy, who is very old, and no longer rocks, but occupies a regal spot in the living room. In front of him, temporarily, is an old trunk, which I can't bring myself to fill with anything other than treasure, and which will therefore sit empty for many years to come. And then, the other window, with the other streetlight, and more snow.

I've hand written two letters in the past couple of days, and both have turned out to be snapshots of where I'm sitting, what's going on in my days. When I started this blog, it was going to be a record of what was going on in the garden. Then it slowly reformed into what's going on in the garden, plus experiments in frugal living, making soap and the like. Then it became a place to hang photos of things I'd made. And this week it just seems to be snapshots of where I am. I love the way it's taken on a life of its own, which is, of course, all about where I am in my life. And I love the way I don't have to define it, say it's one thing or another, or explain to anyone why it is what it is right now. There's too much explaining goes on in ordinary life as it is.

Time for hot chocolate, I think, and a bit more knitting.


  1. Knitting, hot chocolate and snow, what could be better?