A stitch in time...

It has, my dears, been a most interesting time of late in many ways. Firstly, my two seamstress friends and I have enjoyed another of our sewing days, much to our collective delight. A day spent in stitching that resulted in another completed garment in a most becoming soft olive green. It has to be said that I am most proud of the achievement, for I have long remembered the comments of my sewing teacher at school and, it has to be said, dear souls, they were not glowing endorsements. 'Tis but for the patience and excellent teaching skills of my dear friend and colleague that I have achieved so much and for this I am most grateful. Thoughts have now turned to the next garment I can produce in return for my excellent tutor and thus much discussion has ensued over yarn weight, colour and pattern. Oh, the very joy in contemplating the next woollen and indeed, material garments really is quite palpable. 

I have also had the fascinating opportunity to undertake people watching at its finest, the interaction and interplay of characters and their personalities, in detail. Human beings really are fascinating and the minutiae of life really is quite something to behold and is something that will always interest me, having worked in this field for some years, in my early career.  There is, my dears, something to be said for being able to leave it all behind and shut one's door at the end of each day, dealing as one does with people on a daily basis. Some of life's simple pleasures are those of gaining one's sanctuary at the end of one's day and having one's close family and dear friends with which to throw off the professional mantle and be carefree. Oh, the joy of peace, quiet and sanctuary, with the sure fire love of one's near and dear one's,  however difficult the day job may seem. All part of life's rich tapestry, do you not agree. 

On a more exciting note, I have been the delighted recipient of a small parcel of a length of fabric that really is rather lovely. I am so excited at the prospect of producing another garment made with such a gorgeous fabric but, my dears, shall take the wise counsel of my learned seamstress friend before I finalise my pattern choice - one does not wish to attempt anything beyond one's fledgling experience, before advice and guidance is duly considered. Less haste, dear souls, less haste.

Spring snow

Well, my dears, dear old Blighty is at the mercy of its weather with a blast from the east dropping temperatures once more. Snow flurries have abound since Saturday morning, with a wind chill reported at -8. Needless to say dear souls, the trusty log burner has been keeping our little home toasty and warm. Doth seem fair strange that on Friday evening, the walk to my carriage from my professional toil was undertaken in a long sleeved inner garment, minus one's coat and the weekend has seen the return of a hat, scarf and gloves if any length of time were to be spent out doors. Where would we British be without our favourite topic of conversation.

This morn, we woke to that ethereal light and calm that belies a fresh coating of snow. There to behold set out before our eyes was some three inches of fine powdery snow. Thankfully our small country lane appeared readily traversable, thus ensuring our Sunday routine unchanged. We have spent a quiet day pottering about and this afternoon I did venture forth, clad in my winter garments and a fine sturdy pair of Wellington boots, to take the air. My dears it was most refreshing, with the snow prettily falling around me as I trod most happily through the lanes with ne'er another soul to see. 'Twas calm and quiet affording one the opportunity to drink in the beauty of the scenery, admire the wildlife, and watch the sheep as they did gather about their food troughs. Such resilient creatures, clad so warmly in their fleeces. Such sound endorsements for the use of pure wool, my dears, one cannot stress.

Much to our delight we were visited this afternoon by a delightful creature, tempted by the large, bright orange rose hips of the rose upon the terrace. One had commented to the male guardian that a little furry creature had whisked across the back hedge line, and we rose from the chairs in which we sat all the better to espy it when, there, not six feet from patio doors, sat a squirrel, balancing upon the  rose trellis and munching upon a large orange rose hip. My dears, he was most unfazed by our gaze, and sat there until he had completed his snack, his large furry tail lay up on his back. Once his repast was completed, he clambered down and dove in to the snow head first, his furry tail aloft, not once but twice, to retrieve  a morsel of some sort and then dashed off into the orchard, leaping from tree to tree. What a spectacular sight he did make. Later, we were visited by Cedric once more to ensure no morsel was left undiscovered before he retired for the night. We have ensured the feeders are well replenished before we battened down the hatches for the night, for the birds and wildlife we are fortunate to receive on our small estate give us great joy.

Compliments

Well, dear souls, it has been a most interesting week with minus temperatures to start the week and double figures today. Still, 'tis all part of the joyous seasons we are privileged to experience in dear old Blighty and long may it reign. As I glance out upon the estate gardens, the delightful tête-à-tête daffodils have once more raised their glowing heads skyward and are bobbing in the wind as I write. After last week's heavy but brief snowfall I was afeared that we had lost them crushed as they were by the weight of their frozen burden, but no, much like the British themselves, they are sturdy, hardy creatures and have bounced back once more. Staunchly soldiering on whatever life throws at them. I am inordinately fond of these flowers for they lift the spirits so. Why, I do not know anyone that does not extract a smile when seeing them. As one writes, it never fails to amaze me how nature and the seasons mimic life for this could easily describe the trials and tribulations of life in general. How delightful and amusing a comparison.

I was most delighted to receive my first compliment for my dressmaking skills this morning whilst out undertaking the necessary restocking of one's provisions, for the larder, whilst not bare, required replenishing. It has to be said, dear reader, that one is not inordinately fond of this task and go about it with as much military precision as possible to ensure it is as brief a sojourn in to the local town as humanely possible. One does make the effort to be clean and tidy therefore 'twas most delightful to receive not one, but two, compliments on the particular garment I was wearing and enquiries as to the establishment from which it has been purchased. My dears, I was quite pink with delight for my seamstress friend is a most diligent tutor and I do believe this to be a compliment of the highest order and testament to her tutoring skills. The finish of the garment was much admired and one fair glowed with delight for my friend. Once home, I utilised the technological device to inform her for 'tis most important to afford the compliments whence they are due, do you not agree.

Beauty

Whilst it has been a stark few days of freezing temperatures, one has ensured the birds are well cared for with extra helpings of winter fuel and water readily available to help them through the coldest days. One has had the joy of all manner of birds feasting upon the food supplied, from pheasants in their glorious finery, to Robins, blackbirds and many more. It has been a delight to see so many at one time. As I drove my carriage homeward bound this very evening, there at the top of the lane, sat atop the hedgerow was a beautiful gleaming barn owl intent on its prey. My dears, the utter delight of espying one so close to home was quite scintillating. As I drew nearer, up it rose in flight so effortlessley, affording me a delighted glimpse of its feathery finery in full span as it caught the breeze and flew over the carriage, an ethereal being in the dusk. Why, it fair made my heart sing.

As the snow slowly thaws the rivers are flowing fast and are now at the top of their banks.  The hills surrounding us still wear a patchy white covering much like a frothy white petticoat peeping forth. It is all so very pretty but a telling reminder of the force of nature when she decides to afford us a glimpse of her might. As I ensure the estate entrance gates are open in preparation for the male guardians return, there is a nip in the air. I can only hope not enough to cause a frost for this could prove treacherous. This morning, after alighting from one's carriage I unwittingly found a patch of ice, falling flat upon my back in no time. Dear reader, thankfully I was unhurt and very much had my humour intact for the thought of my very wet derrière on show after a dip in the snow and ice afforded me much cheer as I made my way to my professional toil. Clearly, one bounces well, dear souls.

Travel safe, however long or short the journey, dear friends.

Good old British spirit......

Well, what a delightful surprise to have the male guardian return earlier than was anticipated. A brief message upon the electronic devise and out I dashed to meet him for he had managed to slowly wend his way home bar the last few miles, which he undertook on foot. Due to the snow, the last few hilly miles were too icy for his small carriage, thus necessitating leaving it further away in a large lay-by. As he set out to walk through the village that precedes ours, a most delightful gentleman in one of those most covetable of country carriages, a four by four, did stop to offer him a lift. This dear chap whisked the male guardian to the centre of  our nearest village in moments, with a cheery wave as he went on his way. Thus, as I walked to the crest of the hill with my neighbours and their children, off to make the most of the snowy countryside on the nearest steep hill with their sledges, I espied the male guardian sauntering t'ward me. Oh, what a delightful sight, my dears. I was most pleased to have him home safe and sound. 

Today, the weather has turned warmer and the snow is deflating faster than a soufflé from a hot oven. Early this morn, we walked up to the village for the periodicals, calling in on a dear elderly gentleman colleague of mine to ensure he was sufficiently stocked and warm. Once reassured, we felt happy to continue. It was a delightful walk, meeting many people along the way and it was so wonderful to see the indomitable British spirit was once more to the fore. We passed the time of day and spoke to any number of people along our way, in the village and back through the lanes to our home.

Later we ventured out once more in an attempt to bring our carriages home for the snow and ice had fast turned to slush and water. First to be rescued was my own small carriage, still covered in and surrounded by snow. As we attempted to dig it and push it out of the drift, several people stopped to help and lo, it was free. We drove a further few miles to the male guardians carriage which was also clad and surrounded by ice covered snow. Again, as we worked on freeing it, a most delightful young man stopped his own carriage to assist. My dears, he was so smartly dressed I did protest at his offer but to no avail for he was most insistent and once more a carriage was free. With a handshake and a smile for the thanks he was gone, on his way. We all but got home when the male guardians carriage found difficulty at a junction where snow had built up. For the third time, many willing hands made light work and we continued on our way. Most carefully we traversed our single track, steep lane and home we were, with some assistance from our dear neighbour to ensure both carriages were suitably on the drive of our small estate, for the snow there was well clad in a thick layer of unbroken solid ice.

Dear reader, whilst dear old Britain fair grinds to halt in the face of a few inches of  snow, what does not is the British spirit. At times like this, help is readily offered and at hand. The male guardian and I have both given and received it over these snowy few days and oh, dear souls, how it fair warms the heart and makes one proud to be British. 

Oh, dearie me.....

Well, it may be the first day of spring but one can never say never in dear old Blighty. Poor Scotland has been in the grips of a red alert winter weather front that has now settled over the south west, with much of the country experiencing snow, ice and blizzards. Many roads are closed and there are snow drifts building that one has not experienced for many a year. The male guardian took the carriage early this morn, bound for his professional toil, and lord knows when he will return. We are, dear reader, most experienced in the drill for bad weather and off he goes, packed for days away, with suitable supplies in the carriage including clothes, food and the necessary sleeping bag etc that is required when one travels such a distance to ones toil. Despite my own professional toil being much closer, when one lives in the countryside, with small, single track lanes to traverse, one must be prepared to take one's time and walk, if necessary. Whilst the journey in early this morning was slow, the journey home took a good hour and a half to achieve, dressed suitably in cold weather gear for the  beginning and end sections, including a warm hat pulled down low, a wind proof snood pulled up high so that only the eyes were exposed to the inclement weather, a good wind and waterproof coat with a hood to keep my woollen hat dry and warm, fur lined gloves, walking socks and both walking boots and Wellington boots for different conditions. My dears, one was snug as a bug as one made one's way home, walking the last mile or two across terrain that had not seen a car for quite some time today, going by the virgin snow, as one made one's way into the village and out the other side, down country lanes and home. It has to be said, however, that oh, it did look so bleakly beautiful. 

On reaching home, I was most delighted to find that the log burner was still alight, after being banked up and on a slow burn since last night. This morn, before leaving, one ensured it was well stoked for the day and lo, I arrived home to find enough hearty embers to once more have a beautiful fire going in minutes. Our little home is warm and snug, and one will ensure the home fires continue to burn throughout this wintery spell. The log basket is full to brimming, the pantry well stocked and the bird feeders topped up for the night. All one awaits, at some point, is the safe arrival of the male guardian but not, it seems, for sometime, me thinks.

With more snow and blizzard like conditions forecast overnight, one really must hunker down as best one can. Only the morning light will tell if one is able to reach one's carriage to venture forth to one's professional toil once more. In the meantime, we do so hope, my dears,  that those of you residing in dear old Blighty take heed of the warnings and stay safe and sound this night.