Autumn Cottage Diarist

Girls Just Gotta have fun!

After a ladies lunch with my dear friend Fiona, I returned home to spend the afternoon with Liz, the friend with whom I will travel to Venice in October.

We both own dolls houses, so today we had a very happy few hours making "Fimo Food". Liz created some lovely confections – "flans" made in bottle tops, and I tried my hand at creating the foundation of a choux pastry/profiterole pyramid.

Don’t we look as if we are having fun? We were! (I wonder if the wine glasses accompanying us have anything to do with that?). We have now designated Friday afternoons as "girl time" when we will get together to play crafts, go antique shopping, generally pamper ourselves. Well, who else will do it for us? And girls just gotta have fun! (Though not too much – the chockkie bikkies and glasses of wine do no favours for the figure – something of which, Fiona – with a rather marvellous weight loss of – ahem – a LOT – is a great reminder. Girls might have fun – but a svelte figure (plus gorgeous, long blond hair) look rather like fun as well.)

Here is my effort – still awaiting acrylic "chocolate" and applied fabric roses. I made the serving tray our of a foil catfood tray.

Unable to resist it, here is today's cat picture - of Lissie, preparing herself for travel - i.e. rolling herself in bubble wrap plastic! She normally sleeps on top of it (it is normally used to separate cat from scanner) - but today, she decided a little variety was in order. ( I promise that I do not edit these photographs - she really does get herself into these contortions!).

When Winter Comes, Can Spring be Far Behind?

It feels as if it has hardly got light for weeks here. The days are a succession of endless grey vistas (it’s official) - though the lengthening days are very noticeable. It’s at this time of the year that Winter feels gloomy and endless – so over the weekend, I took a stroll around the garden to see just what was happening there. Such a heartening sight – nothing stays still in nature, all around me there were signs that Spring is murmuring just below ground and getting ready to burst out anew in a month or two.

Here are some of the signs of springtime that I discovered two days ago...

Shoots of daffodil bulbs, just pushing their tips through to the surface

Wet and gloriously glossy Bergenia leaves – otherwise known – very accurately, I think, as "Elephant’s ears" – won’t be long before their gorgeous pink flowers are blooming. Notice the reddish tinge that they take on in cold weather.

Bright green Epimedium leaves, also enjoying appearing at this time of the year.

Abundant heads of Hellebores really bursting forth – some of the earliest flowers in the garden (many were starting to bloom just before Christmas).

A beautiful, fat red bud containing, hopefully, a beautiful, fat red flower on the Rhododendron bush.

And finally – Mother’s Little Helper, up the "Woodpecker Tree". Officially confined to quarters until her check-up at the Vet, she wheedled her way into the garden and has promised to be Very Useful in the springtime. (I wonder how she is with a fork and spade?)

"Please Sit and Draw"

While continuing the mega-muck-out of my office today, I came across
a slip of paper. It is something I copied last year from one of my
favourite places - the Ruskin Gallery in Sheffield. Surrounded by some of the wonderful artefacts belonging to John Ruskin's  Guild of St George, there is a corner with paper, pens & seats supplied, and this exhortation on the wall to those who pass by......

"In our busy lives, we often miss the chance to look closely at the
world. We may be unaware that if we look at a tiny feather, we can trace
structures, patterns or the way colours catch the light. Artists try to
see clearly the world around us. Imagination and skills of hand then
transform this seeing into something new. The works artists make
encourage us to go back and look closely. Often we then begin to see
things differently. Please sit and draw."

This is a message to me, from the Universe, via a scrap of paper, to
pick up my pen again.

I love to read Karen Winters "Creative Journey" and Richards Bell's' "Wild Yorkshire" .They follow the suggestion to "please sit and draw" almost every day.

How about me? How about you?

Taming the Paper Tiger

I'm finally taking on the BIG filing project that has been lurking in my
office for longer than I care to remember. Alec could not find a piece
of paperwork last night - for which he is actually responsible, but for
which I had taken responsibility in an "oh, Gawd, at least SOMEONE had
better do it" frame of mind.

Except that my filing is recently nothing to be proud of. I know where
it all is ("that pile over there...") - but it is not sorted properly
and I can often take ages to find something. I took more than ages last
night - the said piece of paper has still not reared its head. (I think
it has actually gone to the paper graveyard of Alec's bedroom if the
truth be known!).

So today has been the day of a mammoth project. My bed has been covered
with about 60 temporary pockets as I sort every piece of paper in sight
- then I'll make up permanent files for the filing cabinet.

It's actually remarkably simple - each time I pick a piece of paper off the pile and it does not have an obvious home, I write a label and make up a new pocket. This way, a filing system is customised to the needs of what actually exists, rather than trying to fit items into pre-ordained
"headings".

Then it will be simple to write a list of the headings I have created and type up a page of labels for the filing cabinet pockets. I can either keep the temporary pockets labelled up ready for another mammoth session, or, Wonder of Wonders, I might even do my filing more
regularly, on a weekly basis. I used to do that, once upon a time - then a college course came along and all got left behind. (Excuses, excuses).

Lissie decided to get in on the act and "help" me to do some paperwork, by taking flying leaps and landing in the middle of it all. Thankfully, she soon became tired, as she is not feeling at her best today. She put herself to snooze in the waste paper basket. (ball of black & whilte fluff in bottom left hand corner).

Coming from a theatrical family, I suppose it was inevitable, but it even embarrasses me sometimes to see how much of a poser she has become. I was merely tickling her tummy this afternoon and at the same time pouring out sympathy upon her (she visited the vet to be spayed and micro-chipped yesterday). I should have known better.

It had the effect of freezing her in an ecstasy of contentment and exhibitionism - she indicated that she did not at all mind "her public" seeing her "operation" by displaying it with not a touch of modesty to all and sundry, including the camera, for which she seems to have developed a rather tawdry and vulgar fondness :-)

Hoping for more sympathy, if I know that little lady, and knowing her pulling power here, I imagine she is quite likely to get it!

Putting Away Christmas

12th night - Epiphany - has passed. In the Christian story, it is the time when the three Wise Men from the East found the infant Jesus and presented their gifts. In Italian folklore, it is the time when La Befana, the kindly witch, having flown over the rooftops on her broomstick, visits all the good children and leaves their gifts.

So yesterday, I put Christmas at Autumn Cottage away in boxes for another year. I leave price tags on all the new ornaments that I have purchased each Christmastide, adding the date when they were bought, before they are packed away. I have done this ever since the boys were born, and we now have both a collection and an archive of their history which I hope will pass down through the  generations to come after me.

I am sad to see the whole Christmas festival be packed away - the lights in the window, the garland over the fire, the ornaments on the tree, and my family around me have all seemed  extra special this year. This is due to the significance, emphasised by my Norwegian friend Britt-Arnhild, that I have given to really enjoying the whole "12 days of Christmas".

This year, Britt-Arnhild's own enthusiasm has made me more aware that this Festival extends much beyond the shopping for, and receiving of, gifts on Christmas Day alone. I have always been aware of the "12 days" in music and poem, but festivities in the past usually ended at New Year - I have not really fully enjoyed and celebrated all 12 days myself. This year I have done, and for the pleasure that this has brought, I give thanks to her. It has enhanced our lives through the start of this cold, dark and drizzly winter month.

In the Grey Midwinter

My first stroll of the year through the woods. Everything is still, it really does feel as if we are in the deep midwinter. The chill air singes my cheek, the twilight falls even though it is only 2.30 pm. It has not really got light all day.

And yet I delight in the walk. The very deadness of nature is only a superficial perception. There are buds on many of the trees, a solitary squirrel is making a foray out of its dray to find a snack.

In front of me a cock pheasant scuttles out of a beech-leaf filled ditch and "chupper-chupper-chuppers" across the road into the field. As I walk back, in the undergrowth, I hear leaves rustle and can just see the outline of a roe deer moving stealthily, though not fearfully, further away into the bracken.

The woods are resting. It is good to share the peace of their slumber.

(As it was so dark, photographs today are "played with" a little, using the histogram (equalising) function of Paint Shop Pro. Apart from revealing the contents of the image, don't you think they have also acquired a dreamlike, vintage, hand tinted quality? - rather like the monotone woodland itself this afternoon.)