One, One, One One

Here's to One, One, One One

Or Two thousand and eleven. I like the sound of it, it has a cheerful bouncy sort of ring to it. We toasted the new year in with friends at a small ceilidh in Lauriston, a good and optimistic start for Rodger who was determined to see the year in.



I see the year in a very visual layout with January 1st right at the bottom of the big climb up to Spring. Will I have the energy and inspiration to reach the first rung, let alone get to the top ? Once I have my foot firmly on the ladder it will be fine, I tell myself, don’t be daunted by too much introspection. It is purely the dark midwinter days pulling you back.



The days between Hogmany and New Year disappeared into a general brown mush of thawing snow, much like the splendid chestnut and parsnip soup we had on boxing day but not so appetising.


Could we please just skip the dirty bit now and fast forward to new buds and shoots?


Christmas treats were a walk up the frozen Wyming valley on the edge of the Peaks, and out to Stanwich Edge.



Then sledging at Winster in Cumbria - we nearly got stranded there, it took the family the morning to clear the cars and the long driveway of snow!


Me and my boys, well hatted up.

I should be back into the workshop properly Monday. Pots are beckoning. The water is back on, and the ice bound drains back in use. I did look in a couple of times during the week but never managed to get much of a head of steam up in both senses. Christmas and Hogmany are fine, but there will be something to be said for getting back to what my parents used to call 'glorious monotony.'