Little Cotton Rabbits

Shortest days

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's always a nice feeling when the winter solstice arrives, a calm and quiet pause before the wheel of the year begins to turn back towards longer, brighter days. Not that I dislike winter at all, in fact there are parts of it that I really love: sharp morning frosts; winter sunrises; warm winter woollies; cosying by the fire; hearty stews and soups; hot chocolate (incidentally if you like hot chocolate the check out Julie's recipe for a peanut butter version over on the Knitted Bliss blog, it is so delicious!)... 

But the short days can be hard to bear, especially when they are overcast and it feels like daylight never really arrived at all. We've had mostly those kind of days this week, though there was a beautiful sunrise a few days back. The perfect antidote to such a lack of natural light is to fill the house with candle light, fire light and the light from the Christmas tree which is now up here (and being re-arranged daily by Toby).

Happily knitting is a perfect pastime for midwinter days and I've knitted a whole hat in the last 3 days. I used up most of my last precious skein of Ysolda's Blend no. 1. Using it up was a hard decision, as it looks like there will be no more but it has been a really good choice as it works perfectly in the finished hat. The pattern is Hermaness hats by Gudrun Johnston (there are 2 versions within the pattern - a beret and a beanie) and it was a pleasure to work - not too complicated, though I did have to rip back a few rows at the beginning of the second chart when I wasn't paying proper attention, (my project notes are here). 

The arrival of eagerly anticipated packages in the mail also helps brighten any dreary day. Recently I fell in love with the work of Nastia Sleptsova having discovered her on Instagram and I bought myself an early Christmas present. Her little house brooches, cards and stickers are so sweet and everything was packaged so beautifully it was such a treat to open. There is even has a knitting themed collection 'The cozy knitter' in collaboration with Melody Hoffmann (bmandarines). There's such a lovely cosy gentleness to Nastia's work, and though it looks like her shop is taking a break over Christmas I'm sure she'll be back in the new year with new stock.

Well, I'll not be back until the new year myself, so until then I just wanted to wish you a very Merry Christmas.

Keep warm, laugh lots and, if you can, be with the ones you love xxx

 

snow day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Firstly please let me say a huge thank you for all of the kind condolences that you left in the comments on the previous post. Such warm and loving support is a comfort in sad times and I deeply appreciate it. My father in law's funeral is on Wednesday but Toby and I will not be attending - it's beyond his comprehension and he'll not cope with such a busy and solemn occasion. My father in law was a well loved and much respected member of the community and for many years a senior teacher at the local secondary school so there will be many coming to pay their respects and honour him. I wish I could be there as Amy is reading a poem for her Grandpa but I will quietly light a candle here at 10.30am and be with them all in my thoughts.

Well, the weather forecast for yesterday was accurate and we did indeed get snow. Quite a lot of it as it happens, well at least compared to what we might usually expect here and even the birds were too perturbed to fly.  It was a nice quiet and lazy day. Whilst we were far from being snowed in we decided not to venture out in the car and instead orbited the cosy zone in front of the fire, occasionally braving the outside chill to bring in more wood and fill the coal bucket. Toby was so excited to see the snow and wanted to go outside but didn't want to put shoes on (in his mind shoes are for going out of the front door only) and so he was outside for only a couple of seconds in his socks before, shrieking with excitement, he came leaping back inside leaving wet footprints all over the kitchen. It was worth having to clean up just to see his delight at the white stuff and I made sure he had cosy, dry socks to warm up in.

I cosied up for a spot of sock knitting (pattern: Laule'a by Cabinfour) and reading. Rather aptly I'm really enjoying Snow by Marcus Sedgwick at the moment and also dipped into some favourite seasonal books; Four Hedges by Clare Leighton and The magic apple tree by Susan Hill (thanks to Niki at the cottage for the recommendation, she has great taste in books and a wonderful eye for a beautiful photograph, check out her instagram feed and you'll see for yourself).

I'm also reading The Almanac: A seasonal guide to 2018 by Lia Leendertz, which I pledged to last year on the crowd-funded self-publishing platform Unbound, it's lovely to be a part of making an idea come to life and feels good to support individuals who are following a dream. Another lovely read and dream-made-real is Creative Countryside, a new quarterly magazine self published by Eleanor Cheetham. It's full of thoughtful articles and beautiful imagery and I've taken out a subscription so I'm looking forward to a copy for each season popping through my letterbox throughout this year. 

So, that was our lazy snow day Sunday. I wonder if there will be more snow before the winter is out and if there is I'm not sure how I feel about it. The first flakes do create a stir of excitement but I think a prolonged period of snow cover would become tiresome rather quickly. How about you, are you a fan of snow or would you be happier to live without it?

 

Autumn in Panshanger Park

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last week was the school half term break so most of my time was taken up with keeping Toby out of mischief. I did have a free day on the Wednesday though (when he went for respite care) and by happy coincidence this was the best day of the week weather-wise, so I packed up my backpack.

There is no shortage of places to choose from within a 15 minute drive and I count myself very lucky to be able to transport myself with relative ease to the woods, the canal, the lakes or the hills as the mood takes me. This time I headed to Panshanger Park. From the 1700s this parkland formed the grounds of a grand stately home but after the death of the last member of the Cowper family in the 1950's the main house was demolished and the estate divided up and sold by auction. Today the park is owned by Tarmac who extract minerals at one end of it. As each mining site is exhausted they have been returning the land to nature, so at the Hertford end of the park there is now a wonderful 400 hectare nature reserve crisscrossed by paths from which you can regularly see many species of ducks, dragonflies and wild birds including the occasional kingfisher and even osprey at the right time of year.

I walked through the fields of grazing sheep (who seemed quite curious about me photographing them), down the track towards the lake cottage and along the Mimram river for a bit before heading uphill to the site where the house once stood. At the hilltop there's a bench with a wonderful view designed by Humphrey Repton so I sat to eat my snack. From there I headed into the woods until the eerie sight of crumbling stonework appeared through the gaps between trees. The Orangery is all that remains of the original house - though if you scrabble about in the woods you can see the remains of walls and terraces which are being slowly reclaimed by nature - it's a bit like being on the set of a Lord of The Rings film. Following the path past the Orangery leads to a ring of iron railings encircling a gigantic oak tree...

"The park contains the largest maiden (not pollarded) oak in the country, with a circumference of 7.6 metres. It is believed to have been planted by Queen Elizabeth I. Acorns from the tree have been used as seedlings for notable oaks in other parts of the country, such as the Prince Consort Oak in the Forest of Dean. Winston Churchill planted a sapling from the tree in the park and the tree can still be seen in the grounds." (source Wikipedia)

I'm not sure that the pictures quite convey how massive this ancient oak is without anything for scale in the foreground but it is quite awe inspiring. I sat there for a while, quietly. All around I could hear small birds twittering about their business in the undergrowth. The squirrels were busy too with their store-cupboarding. There is a feeling of magic there (though that might be just me channelling my childhood love of reading The Tree That Sat Down and The Faraway Tree) and I look forward to returning through the changing seasons and visiting the peacefully enduring old oak.

I walked the path back to the car beneath dramatic skies. I've realised recently that late afternoon and that last golden hour before sunset is my favourite time of day and it really soothes my soul and dissolves stresses to be wandering about then. Even the tedious traffic jams to get back through rush-hour Hertford couldn't dent my sense of well-being.

Although autumn is undeniably here with cooler, breezier days and an abundance of berries and hips in the hedgerows, the leaves of many trees have yet to reach their full autumn glory, so I'm hoping for another wood walk later this week before leaf fall is complete.

See you soon and thanks as always for visiting x

 

three-quarter year resolutions

 

 

 

 

 

 

The new school year is always eagerly anticipated here. Not only does it bring a welcome return to comfortable routines but it also seems like a second chance in the year for new resolutions and plans.

Toby is settling in well with a new teacher and class assistants (happily his classmates are all the same) and Amy is enjoying being in the top year, her last year of school ever. I've spent the last few days clearing up summer holiday mess, tidying things away and getting myself in a sorted frame of mind (or at least trying to) and I've at last had the chance to sit down and properly go through a couple of new cookery books that I bought over summer.

Back in July I started intermittent fasting - the 16/8 kind where you fast for 16 hours each day (in my case 7pm until 11am the next day) and then eat normally during the 8 hours inbetween. When I get up I drink lots of hibiscus tea to keep the hunger pangs at bay - it's quite compelling to watch as it brews with streams of dark red pouring out from the teabags to turn a bottle of water as red as a robust red wine in just minutes. Most days I do make it to 11am before eating anything, though I'm not letting myself feel guilty about the days when I cave in and have a bit of buttered toast at 10am.

The idea is that a longer fasting time between eating gives the body time to process the food and burn away extra fat stores and there are suggestions that it has health benefits too, including helping balance insulin levels. The health aspects are those that most interest me but I'm also loosing weight on it, so far 11lbs in 10 weeks so I'm very happy about that. I'm trying to make sure that what I eat in my 8 hour window is mostly healthy (though I still have cake and chocolate and sugar in my tea) and so I've been looking for new inspiration and have found it in 2 books by Anna Jones.  Now I've got a long list of new recipes to try and one of my favourites so far is 'overnight bircher with peaches'. It's delicious with any fresh fruit and is a nice 11am breakfast or fits the bill perfectly for a pudding when I fancy one. I think it tastes even better when eaten from the beautiful tactile cup that I bought from Rachelle Blondel - her wonderful ceramics are organically formed and lovely to hold. 

Along with healthier eating I'm trying to get back into the swing of pattern writing so I'm structuring my day into chunks of 'work' knitting and 'play knitting' time. The knitting pictured above is what I'm currently working on in my play time (along with various odd socks) and will be a lovely big, soft wrap for when the colder weather arrives. The pattern I'm using is 'Void' by Melanie Berg and I'm knitting it in The Uncommon Thread's Lush Worsted yarn, a heavenly mix of merino and cashmere with a little nylon for strength, my project details are here.

As soon as I have something concrete to share on the work knitting front I'll be back with news. I will also be having a giveaway to celebrate my just passed 11th blogging anniversary (on September 3rd) but first I need to get myself organised properly, so that will happen later in the autumn.

Thank you so very much to everyone who commented on the previous post. Such wise, compassionate and heart-felt words deserve a proper reply and I feel a bit bad that I've not yet had the time to do that. Until I get the chance to I just wanted you to know how deeply I appreciate your kind comments, thank you xxxx

 

balance under a big sky

 

 

 

Sometimes being a parent means that you loose your sense of self a little. You are so focused on ensuring that everyone is fed, has clean clothes, that there's milk in the fridge, toilet rolls in the cupboard and no-one has to go without breakfast because the bread has gone stale, that there's not much time for anything you might want personally. I've felt a little like that recently. It's probably magnified in our household because of Toby's constant needs and the intensity of the school holidays but I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling a little parental self-annihilation at times. Over the last few months we've had a busy time helping Amy research Unis, H has been away from home more than before as his father is very poorly and overall the balance of life has been more hectic than relaxed. I've also been listening to friends excitedly talk about family holidays and have felt a pang of envy because we don't holiday anymore (it's too stressful for Toby and so by extension for us too). It's not that I particularly wanted to go away anywhere this summer but I've realised that I do miss the excitement of doing something new, of being somewhere different and of having that sense of being on an adventure. So, earlier this week I left H in charge of after dinner parenting duties, took my backpack, camera and walking boots and drove out into the countryside. 

I'm never usually out of an evening, unless it's for a school parents evening or a concert that Amy's taking part in, so just being out in the car at 7pm is a novelty for me and it did feel something like a small adventure. I drove to a local hill which has lovely views over the surrounding countryside and just walked until the sun disappeared below the horizon. I saw lots of rabbits, heaps of the big Roman snails particular to the hill, heard the alarming bark of a muntjac deer near by and saw the bats start to flit. Sadly I didn't get to see a much-longed-for barn owl but heading back towards the car I was treated to a magnificent sky overhead and bathed in a sense of well-being and calm. Although my tiny adventure was less than 2 hours long and took place only a 15 minute drive away from home it did help enormously. Sometimes you just need to be humbled under a big sky.

It has reminded me that although being a mum to an almost-adult with special needs perhaps brings more intense parenting, there can still be time for me if I can be flexible with when that can be, what form it can take and if I embrace the small and simple pleasures that exist all around us but are sometimes overlooked and undervalued. It's my plan to keep finding small and fortifying adventures on my own doorstep and I'd love to hear about what small adventures you'd choose to have - tell me in a comment below if you have time to x