Here we are, racing up the hill at Cheltenham racecourse, the final fence is behind us, the crowd is roaring and we just have to get to the end of winter safely in order qualify. I have heard many, many SOS calls over the last new weeks, the best of which arrived today from a friend in Yorkshire. 'Snow is for Christmas and ski resorts, I wish it would go now'. I agree, enough is enough.
I will never forget the obituary of an old (young) friend in Country Life years ago...'The sun shone brightly at the funeral of...' Well the sun shone brightly today and I made a point of lying in it, for an hour, in the field. The family all went off to Stroud to the Farmer's Market and came back laden with very very little indeed. I don't quite get why they went - perhaps it was to give me some peace and quiet. Eddi Reader, Angels & Electricity filled the silence while I sat and drank coffee and thought. My step-father-in-law once told me that February always steals a day from June... come on February, love, we are running out of time.
And then back they came and Girl 12 asked me to iron her half term project on wind turbines, which I did, to disastrous effect. The heat of the iron made the ink disappear. The subsequent hysterical laughter was as welcome as the sun, and the music. And then I got over ambitious and decided to effect some repairs to Slinky, My Malinky. Washing the balsamic vinaigrette off the sleeve may have been a bit crazy and just didn't work, but the surgery to the seams and hems went well. I hope she recovers her gloss and sheen when she dries.
Weird week. Not quite what was prescribed. Let's start again with the old rules, next week.