Snowswimming

 We finally got snow. Proper snow. Snow enough to make snowmen, throw snowballs and scrunch with satisfaction through bouncy, snowy grass. And so, there was snowswimming! I went on the first morning when the snow was still quite light, but still!

The silence of snow

 I am yearning, groaning, longing for the silence of snow! It's the end of our half-term break and I am, for the first time ever, relieved. We have had incessant storms all week, making the very idea of leaving the house abhorrent. Every day had been full of noisy, noisy weather: boom banging of the house all night long for days with Storms Ciara and Dennis, then lashings of torrents of rain on every window and roof tile. Hibernation continues here at the Meadowplace!

I think though that we have no chance of snow this year at all now. There has been sleet and hail, hard, hammering hail, but no gentle, enveloping, silent snow. I t would be lovely to have a blanket of white to make all things new, for a while! I was amazed to find snowdrops in the garden earlier in the week. It seemed inconceivable that anything would have survived the storms, but there they were. Brave and resilient despite being so small.

I've been thinking about Elijah on his runaway mountain. Hiding in his cave from all the pounding elements, and waiting for the still, small voice of God. It has been good today to read Ang's prayer response about Jesus stilling the storms; and to read of the importance and beauty of stormy days over at Gretchen Joanna's.

We'll just have to keep going with the brave and resilient for another while.

Third, fourth and Merry Christmas!

 We're having a relatively balmy Christmas this week, as opposed to just a while ago when these pictures were taken! How we loved our first heavy snowfall in this house. Earth really did stand hard as iron after a two day freeze, and the snowman stood as high as the boys for quite some time after.

 A prayer from one of my reflections last week said, "Pour down, oh heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness." I smiled as I listened, and replaced rain with snow- let the skies snow down righteousness. This struck me as beautifully apt, standing only because I know that God sees me clothed in Jesus, as bright and shining as my muddy garden clothed in pure snow.

This morning I was reading the end of Romans 16, marvelling at a terrestrial night when the celestial mystery of Jesus could break through. Merry Christmas, bloggistes, and a mysterious one too x



Finally views and snowy ones at that

 After three weeks of severe weather warnings and making sure each week that we have at least one tin each of soup and beans in the cupboard, we finally got some snow! It's been two years since our last magic carpet, and it's not much of a one at that- at least along this coastal stretch of a mostly inland lough!

 We were up and excited by 7.30 when it was a bit lighter than it looks here. Disappointed that none of our three schools had made the closures list, but I did get home at lunchtime- more to do with the severe lack of pupils than road conditions.

 I'm becoming fascinated by the tree outside the kitchen window. I sit and watch it before the light dies and wonder when it will manifest Spring. Not for a good while yet, I imagine, but it's a good thought. I don't usually struggle with January but this year's slight gloom will hopefully lift as the month turns. I was surprised when I logged on here to see that none of the blog posts in my head had ever made it to the blog, but that reflects most of my plans for the month really!

The reason why I can sit and observe my outside-the-kitchen-tree is that we gave in to the cold after New Year and moved our table from under the spectacular(ly freezing) window wall in to the warmth of the kitchen. Today was the first day I have been in the living room all week. Mostly now I move from table to kitchen job and back again. Usually with tea in hand. I do wander next door to the book room a bit more, I suppose, now that all the unpacked boxes of Stuff have been hidden in the spare room instead. Maybe that room will make a blog post soon. Probably in February....

Views from around the Lough

 Last Thursday morning we were having breakfast when Jo shouted that it was snowing. One second later everything was nearly white and we watched in great excitement as the snow flowed slowly down the glass roof above our heads. It didn't last, and temperatures have hovered around 7 degrees ever since; disappointing given that we are now off school and ready for some snow fun!

 This afternoon we got around to a walk at 3pm, conscious that we had an hour of daylight left! We headed to the shore of Belfast Lough at the bottom of our hill where the beach and the park have been stalwart run-off-steam essentials for all our family life!

 The tide was far far out, and we tramped over the lough bed to the water's edge. Mattman missed the last two days of his term because he was poorly and we were trying to aerate him.

 On top of the rock just beyond the water's edge is a seal. There is very often a seal on that rock. Fancy demands that it to be the same one, but I'm not sure. It was very comfortably balanced.

 Mattman rescued a starfish. I'm fairly sure that it was beyond rescuing but he took great care that it reached deeper water.

And sure enough, one hour later it was dark. We strolled around the Norman settlement of Carrickfergus, and discussed the differences between William the Conqueror and William of Orange. The former's legacy had the castle built; the latter's had a statue built and a country divided. The castle has also been one of our very useful places to visit with boys. It's funny to think of that now that they are both nearly the same height as me and close to knowing more!

Advent is ending and Christmas is upon us. Prince Charming was in Carrick to do some Christmas shopping. I am blogging to avoid some Christmas baking. Here it comes!

Views from my Windows

Here we are, Jane - winter dusk in Strawberry Land. Mattman thought the sky was purple. I thought it was pink. You say tomato...

No view of our friendly American today, because she is flying home as I type. Too short a stay, Sandra! On the subject of language, Sandra learnt the word we use for erasers, and we laughed and laughed. Homework will never be quite the same again. There's my kitchen reflected in the back garden once more.

And here are the television and the fire reflected in the front. I fell asleep in front of both this afternoon. While darkness fell and seasons changed.

Jo's teacher says that snow is forecast for this very day next week. Like Kipper, we strawberries are very positive about snow. Not sure that we're quite prepared for it yet though! Operation Readiness begins tomorrow...



A Feast in Lent

We live in East Antrim. This means that we seem to avoid the worst excesses of harsh winter weather. We are close to the sea, and our snow melts quickly; we are not too high, so we have not been cut off; we have thankfully hitherto been spared all power cuts; everything we need is within plodding distance.

We've just been watching the News and it's a bleak world out there for our farmers, and our elderly (my parents remain housebound on the top of their hill), and our businesses. So I hesitate to tell you what I am thinking increasingly this week, on my journey to Easter.

What doesn't quite manage to loosen its grip is a glimmer of joy, unashamed and unabashed, that has been growing here. It's the experience of letting go within the momentum of a great and sure hope. It's all the Feasts that we've been thinking about this year. Feasting like gluttons, devouring. Gobbling up all these good things that we can learn now in Lent and beyond.

I can't remember the last time I have enjoyed anything as much as the puzzle piecing of McPhee. I love it. I absolutely adore it with a passion. It's wholly tasteless, and will mean nothing to anyone who looks at it, unless they're us, but it fills me with chuckling delight. I thought about that yesterday in church. All that joy at seeing Jesus arrive in Jerusalem; joy that would sour. I thought how it would be to welcome Jesus everyday into here, and not have it sour. To feast wholly on Him, and fast from all that would interrupt the gluttony. To enjoy and savour and live, live, live!

Making tracks

We're having the most lovely nearly snowed in weekend. I think Jo was genuinely disappointed that we didn't lose power. He spent the whole of Friday evening putting candles in candlesticks in every room. And yes. We did have a very firm fire safety talk!

I spent last night putting Prince Charming's Christmas present to good use, making tracks around McPhee. You really can't beat Attic 24 for tutorials. I must put some coffee money in her kitty soon. 

I'm mostly using the Wise Craft link for joining with granny rows. Though it looks very different from the joining that Queen Niqi and Heather Boss do, so I should investigate the latter.

 

It has very quickly taken on a blanket feel. I only have the three out of the four inner rectangle rows joined, but it sits cosily and heavily on the lap, and is the perfect accompaniment to a nearly snowed in weekend!

 

You could all be seeing it in the flesh yarn sooner than you might have imagined, should this stormy weather not subside...

 



Views from my Land

I think this may be cheating, Jane? But the view from my window is EXACTLY the same as it was last week, so this might be more the view from my window, with close-ups of my very dusty window sills! Still grey surburbia with white vacancy where the sky should be. Too fed-up with that even to show you the white vacancy where the sky should be...

Another close-up- the strawberry bed whence cometh fraise lachrymose. I would have had a very lovely explanation of fraise lachrymose for all you lovely Grow your Blog folk who signed up, did lovely posts and giveaways and then visited all the other participants. I, however, live in a constant muddle and didn't quite achieve any of the above! Hence another close-up. I had fully intended to de-muddle the back garden before this week's shot, but the Weeble house is still strewn all over everywhere so here's some exciting strawberry hope instead!

The really annoying thing is that, between last Thursday and this Thursday we have had lovely, lovely snow. It actually came and went three times in as many days. But still didn't manage to last until today. Except up on the hill where my parents live. We spent some time trying to dig them out this morning, for bank appointments and sanity concerns!  So no snow in the low suburbs side garden, though Angela will note that at least I made sure that the correct date was showing! (That is the correct date?)

Autumnal snow

I love Nanny McPhee. I love both movies. I very much love the end of the first film with all the snow in August. Enchanting. It's not so much snow in August as snowed under in September here this week.

This is why instead of showing you fabulous pictures of our shiny new uniforms, heavily hanging apples, plentiful onions and stalwart cyclmen, I am in fact bowed in admiration for women who can work full-time, get children's homework done and maintain a functioning house. And as for single mothers who manage this all by themselves...

I said I would do a full week of substitute teaching in the very local school whose hours are so in tune with the boys' times it's fabulous. Especially now that poor Jo has to stay until 3pm as well. It was supposed to be easy!

So, dear friends and patient readers (not that these are mutually exclusive groups) to use another snowy analogy: I have miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep! Here's hoping you don't xx

Greatitudes 471 - 497

Pussy Willow a month on. Generous friends with cosy house in Bushmills. Beaches, sand dunes, rusted old rail roads, tunnels, rock pools, FUN. Husbands, wine, gas fires, quiet nights. Friends, children of friends, coffee and colouring and cakes. Family feasts. Progress and unexpected stars hiding in balls of wool. Angela, bondaweb and Ikea. Adventurous families who will drive with you into the higher hills for THE PRIZE!

Grumpy giveaway

Even the Wombles are mocking us now. Tonight's chapter was The Snow Womble: It was a really beautiful morning, with the sun just up and the snow almost blindingly white except where it was in the shadows, where it turned to deep blue.

I had been saving this book for our snow.  I was ready for an un-white Christmas, and could happily console Jo. It always snows in January, I was thinking confidently. Ha!

So before winter is no longer with us, and given the profusion of hot cross buns and tulips in my local multi-huge national supermarket, I shall just have to offer you this now. I can no longer bear to look at the tantalising snowflake on the cover.

I must be clear. I am aforewarned by Angela's recent post. This book was given to me a whole snowy season ago, but it remains unread- it may be set in France but Mosse's deep caves are far too scary for me! So comment at your peril- one intrepid reader will be chosen next week. Bon courage- you might want to share some little anecdote of your snow with the poor snowless of the ironically frozen North!

Greatitudes 451- 470

Oh dear, 'twould seem 'twas November last when last I moved through blessings bestowed towards the one thousand goal. This is not good. And really I have a cosy home, a breath-taking family, interesting friends, much to do and the health with which to do it.

And also. Over the last month, suddenly and slightly overwhelmingly, I have been asked to sub. In two schools over five weeks now, and I have even been able to choose how many days I want to do and which ones. I have turned days down, and still been rung again. This is more than I can comprehend, and to be honest it is certainly more than slightly stressful, but nonetheless, I have discovered that not only can I still speak French/understand Shakespeare/know a paragraph from a parenthesis, but also teach it, and I do not dissolve into water at just any blast of teenage hot air. Oh no, it takes more than one blast of that. I get wobbly after five...

So. There we go! I am deeply grateful to Angela for all encouraging advice on the life of the substitute teacher. I am deeply, deeply grateful for the procession of local friends who enthusiastically offer school runs and for the willingness of grandmothers to spend a whole hour toasting pancakes and resolving conflict. I am tearfully grateful for a Prince Charming who will leap into action as the phone rings and pick up the slack, and will appear unexpectedly at the leisure centre straight after the latest phone call just when the thought of organising logistics as well as sitting through a swimming lesson is just too much!

Back at the strawberry ranch I am grateful for the excitement of a new slow cooker toy with which admittedly I have played only once, for tulips from HB and a very cheery cherry cake, for a super night at Book Club last week that resulted in a great idea for next time (see next time), and a homework that called for strawberries.

Finally, do you still have snow? I am determined to be thankful that we haven't had to clear our paths, grit our drives, rush outside with sledges and tubs for snowfort bricks. I am trying hard to remember that my parents can get around safely, that roads are not treacherous, and that it is gorgeous to bask in warm sun in February. However, I am also very grateful that Jo has "In the snow" as one of his reading books this week. Living vicariously is better than living entirely without!