Grumpiness

I’ve been very grumpy this week on account of the snow and ice, and being cooped up with just one other unfortunate person, who is unfortunate because they are cooped up with me.

Yes it’s beautiful…

My favourite tree 

The field opposite our house

The main street of our village

…but it is also treacherous. It’s OK walking across the fields, but you need to walk on the lanes to get to the fields, and the lanes are too icy to tackle without a walking stick, eyes looking down all the time and not at the view, patience, and twice as much time as usual. Actually they are really too icy to go on at all, except for short stretches. To cap it all, the Trail is closed on weekdays for the whole of January because the rangers are cutting down ash trees with die-back. 

So…it might be bright, as well as minus 9 degrees Centigrade, but going out for exercise as I usually do on a daily basis has been severely restricted. I think that’s why I’ve been so grouchy. 

So this morning, sitting in bed, I am starting afresh and playing the glad game. Here are some reasons to be cheerful:

I have a warm cosy bed.

We have so many logs (collected by Dave) that we never have to worry about lighting a stove. 

I have a stove in my studio.

I have a studio! Which is all my own and has a sofa in it. When I was writing, it was my study. Now it has a huge bit of old carpet down under my table and easel to catch all the flicks and drops of paint. I am a very messy painter.

I have a lovely family and sometimes they populate my dreams, like last night when the adorable 2 year old MsX came to visit.

Dave just brought me a mug of tea AND it is in one of my favourite mugs.

My current painting is going well.

I’m going to see A Complete Unknown on Friday and staying over in Sheffield with Chrissie (who has moved there) and we’re going to have margaritas, because it’s the only safe way to have margaritas, because neither of us has to drive home afterwards. (Phew, long sentence.)

There is a new series of Call the Midwife.

I’m going to see Ballet Shoes with my daughter at the National Theatre in London in February. A vital prop to getting through the dark winter months out in the sticks when so much of normal life is restricted, is to have things to look forward to, and hooray, I do. I am thankful.

I was going to share this poem with you…

From Good Poems For Hard Times, selected by Garrison Keillor

But while I was looking for it, I also found this which I love:

And now I’m going to make pancakes for breakfast - my early morning version of baking a cake.

This is what it looks like outside - and these are full colour photos - taken through an upstairs window.