Officially Cold

The clocks have gone back to GMT and everything was covered in frost for the past few mornings. Halloween/Samhain is tomorrow, there has already been snow in the Scottish Highlands, and I'm wondering if the predictions that we're going to have a hard winter will be correct.

I've started to feel the cold (I normally run quite hot) so it's my cue to break out the wool socks, long sleeves, scarves, coats, jumpers and crochet blankets on the sofa. I'm not complaining; I love the changing seasons.

Autumn seemed to be a warm and gradual thing. We've had a lot of rain, but on the sunny days, I was distracted by spiders every time I went into the garden. Digging out compost bin #2 took a while, distracted as I was by the wildlife. So many fat, female Araneus diadematus hanging in their webs! I also found some other well-marked female spiders, but was confused about what they were until I had one in a magnifier pot and used an online resource. Even so, I couldn't get enough magnification to determine whether they were Metellina mengei or M segmentata. There were a few other spiders and harvestmen which I've not identified yet.

I don't know when the swallows slipped away this year. The local ones just disappeared at some point in September, and I saw some tail-enders fleeing westwards while I was driving over the Preselis, the weekend of the Autumn Equinox. The swifts seemed to disappear suddenly in mid-August. There were lots of blackberries this year (the best, as always, completely inaccessible) and lots of wasps. And yet again, I was completely useless with recording butterflies!

I saw potato plants flowering in the second of the free-standing compost heaps and a few weeks later dug out enough for a couple of meals. I really must get a grip on the vegetable and fruit growing next year. While I've been concentrating on the front garden this summer, the back garden has rewilded itself.

The new houses on the field behind me are still being built. During the summer, the work sometimes started at 7.30 am. No-one could accuse the builders of throwing these houses up! There is still ground-work going on (I don't know if they've finished laying the road) and the heap of subsoil nearest my back fence is taller than ever. Internal work has been going on for weeks now, and annoyingly, some of the lights get left on overnight. The buildings have been painted in candy colours which seem to glow in low light. In my opinion, it doesn't make them any less of an eyesore.

The view from my bedroom, 23 October 2018. 

There's still a way to go with them. According to the planning, there will be some young trees planted, bird boxes put up and gaps left in the soffits for roosting bats, to improve biodiversity. I wonder how long it will be before they, and the houses themselves, are inhabited.

Garden Plans - Still on the Drawing Board

I haven't drawn out neat plans for the garden yet, but had formed some definite ideas about the way the front and back gardens might look. The wisdom of living in and with your space has asserted itself recently, as my ideas have changed.

In the back garden, I had an idea for a second path curving from the left side of the patio up to the shed, which sits two-thirds of the way up the garden on the right, and branching off to (eventually) a greenhouse on the left mirroring the placement of the shed. A perspective path, it would start wider than it finished, hopefully fooling the eye into thinking the garden is longer than it actually is. However, it would have required a potager-style arrangement for the vegetable growing, and I was having difficulty envisaging how to place the fruit. Once I started sowing and planting out the vegetables, I remembered how practical it is to have fixed, rectangular beds, maximising the space to plant in blocks or rows (considering that I want lots of veg, not just the odd item here and there) and facilitating rotation and soil preparation. I couldn't make that work with a path curving through the space.

Then I became quite fascinated by the internal geometries in the garden space. The garden (excluding the patio) is approximately 9.35 x 14 metres, which is about half a standard allotment plot. The length is about 1.5 times the width, and I decided that I would divide the space into thirds; the first for the shrubs, flowers and herbs, the middle section for the veg, and the end for the shed, compost, greenhouse, and fruit (although the latter may spread slightly into the other sections). The area for the veg is going to be roughly 5.4 x 4.6 metres or approximately 24.75 square metres.  I'll need 6 beds for rotation, (1.4 x 1.7 metres to allow for narrow paths between, or perhaps 3 strips 1.4 m wide x 3.8 long, with a virtual divide halfway up each bed?)

I haven't changed my mind about having herbs close to the house, arranged in two quarter circles either side of the path. Mints, lemon balm, parsley, chives and Welsh onion on the right, where the south-side fence and the side extension cast some shade. A couple of friends have reminded me to ensure I plant the mints in a sunken pot to constrain them, but I haven't had a mint patch yet which supplies as much as I can use when I start making mint tea, tzatziki and various salads. The area is currently covered by membrane and gravel, so I hope there is soil under there, and not concrete a few inches down. On the left, in an arc around the washing line, will be the herbs which like better drainage. The heavy soil has been improved in the past as there is lots of top-dressing gravel in the soil, but it will need more grit and some horticultural sand, and probably a top-dressing of grit too.

One of the most difficult things will be choosing what to plant by way of shrubs and flowers, due to limited space. Looking at my notes, I see recurrent themes:

• sensory (primarily scent, but also colour, sound, textures, taste)
• a 'twilight/moonlight' area close to the house using white and pastel shades which reflect light and with night-scented flowers such as stocks
• richer shades between the mints and the lilac
• roses and more roses
• perhaps some dye plants?
• buddleias for the butterflies
• other food plants for insects (although when it comes to larval food plants for the butterflies and moths, it gets a bit difficult - but some sacrificial flowers such as nasturtiums might distract from the brassicas!)

Actually, that doesn't narrow things down very much, if at all! There are plants which aren't scented, which I really want to include, and excuse them on the basis of texture in terms of contrasting leaf shapes and colours, or because they attract pollinators. Things like Stachys lanata, with the silvery, furry leaves (definitely by the path in the 'moonlight' section). And although once the lime green, frothy heads are past their best and flop untidily everywhere, Alchemilla mollis (lady's mantle) is a must because of the way moisture beads and collects on the leaves - irresistible! And aquilegias, polemonium, Siberian iris, bugle, any type of poppies, cottage garden annuals such as cornflowers and nigella (love-in-a-mist). And foxgloves, Verbena bonariensis, and I might need something to continue the colour into autumn. I have lots of primulas and grape hyacinths in spring, just because they seem to like it here, but currently I have nothing for winter, scented or otherwise. I shall have to think about that. Can I make space for a small pond somewhere too?

In the front garden, I wanted to create something scented, bright and colourful which would lift the spirits of passers-by. Originally, I was inspired by Monty and Sarah Don's Jewel Garden, and envisaged bright and jewel colours (not just greening grey Britain but splashing it with multi-coloured paint!). It's quite a small space, approximately 5.3 x 4.5 metres, surrounded by a low wall on three sides and the house on the fourth side. (I've just done a double-take at those figures - it's almost the size of the veg patch!) Anyway, I thought that a rainbow mix of colour might be a bit much in the space, so decided to go with mainly shades of yellow, orange, blue, purple. Mainly, that is, because there's a crimson rose one one side of the door, which I shall pick up with a scarlet oriental poppy on the other side, and I suspect some red monarda will find its way into the planting (though I intend to keep pinks to the back garden!). A path needs to carry on across the front of the house, to the gas meter, but after that, I'll need a pathway which will give a little space and working access to the planting without being too fussy. Something based on a quarter circle, an echo of the herb arcs, considering this is almost the same size as one of the thirds of the back garden? Another thing to think about, as well as ensuring the planting has something of interest for autumn and winter.

After all the recent coverage of Chelsea and Chatsworth's show gardens, it's easy to think of gardens as things which are created, springing into being over a matter of weeks so that you can just enjoy the space and maintain it a bit, like mowing the lawn. Indeed, that's possible if you throw money and a team of landscape gardeners at the project. But, as Monty Don reminded us in this week's Gardener's World, gardening is a process. Working on my own and with next to no budget, it's going to be a long process, but between working in the garden, enjoying its produce, planning and dreaming, it will also be hugely pleasurable and fulfilling one!

January in the Garden

Some relatively calm, fine (but cold) weather recently saw me out in the garden for the first time in possibly a couple of months. The soil is too claggy to dig, it's rather cold to be potting up the last few plants from the ex-lawn. I didn't have the energy (or the bare soil) to turn over the compost heaps, so just had a look into them to see how things are going. The worms seem happy, and I'm happy to see lots of them. One day I pulled out a couple of tub-fulls of weeds, dead fern fronds and leaves. The free-standing compost heap is now cascading everywhere. On another day, I contemplated what I might do with the out-of-scale lilac, to bring it under control without just cutting it down to a level where it can regrow (still working on that one; internet research hasn't brought up any suggestions, either). For the time being, I contented myself with using it to support a netted string of fat-balls and peanuts, to see if I could attract more birds into the garden and stop the blackbirds pulling my potted plants to bits. If it works, I might even do the Big Garden Birdwatch this year.

Besides, the thing I perceive as the main obstruction (in my mind, at least) is the need to remove the privet hedge (and probably the old concrete posts and rusty chain-link between them) on the north side of the garden and replace it with a sturdy fence (the north side and back are 'my' boundaries). Which will need money I don't have (at the moment, at least). I decided I could take some steps towards this by cutting it back, so I could at least see what work will be needed, and that I should do this before any birds get the idea of starting nests in there. The local jackdaws and collared doves have been pair-bonding for a while. A pair of blackbirds, who were nesting in the hedge the year I moved, but nested somewhere in next-door's Kilmarnock willow and surrounding shrubs last year, I think, have been back and forth between our gardens. I hope they nest next door again, as my cats would be only too happy to break my stern injunction against bird-chasing, if they thought they could get away with it.

Top-heavy and tangled, the hedge sprawls drunkenly two metres or more out from the true fence-line, reaching out towards the sun. There is some fence towards the end of the garden, but discounting the patio, the hedge runs for about two thirds of the length of the garden on that side, reducing the width of my garden by 20%. A fifth of the width! It also protects the omnipresent brambles. I've also been digging out bramble again in the garden. I'm 8 inches down in one spot and still can't get the root up. No wonder it springs up all over the place. I had to give up when rain stopped play, but the blackbirds have been delighted to peck around in the hole once the cats and I went back inside.

I've had a couple of goes at hacking back and clearing up, punctuated by a bit of grooving to next-door's radio as the son of the house worked outside and chatting with him through the thinned portion of the hedge to catch up on some news. I missed being yapped at by their little Yorkshire terrier. She had cancer and they had to let her go late last year. Apparently, where the hedge gives way to fence panels on that side, there was an earthbank across the end of the garden, on top of which there were tall trees, which were removed and the earth dug away so that the back of the garden could be fenced and used. No wonder the soil at that end seems so thin and stony, and I've dug up rotten tree roots. I'd heard before that there was a Pembrokeshire bank along the back of the houses, but I wonder if it was, in fact, just an earthbank created by levelling the site when these houses were built in the '50s.

Also chats with the neighbour on the other side; they've been having some work done on their patio and side passage, and having had the back end of the latter demolished, found that the wall between us was on a thin raft of concrete and, not keyed into the buildings, was wobbling precariously. I had thought that there were walls between all the houses, because the walls on either side of my space were identical, but it now seems likely that the people who were in my house built both walls. The workmen have taken it down and replaced it with fence, but there's currently an uneven edge to the concrete where the wall started on my side, and a void beneath the fence panel through which I can admire my neighbours' new patio paving, which appears to be at the same level as the main part of my patio, but which is probably 20 cm/8" lower than the area outside my back door/side passage. Work was done to extend and renovate 'my' side passage in 2005 (?) and there are a couple of shallow steps up to come in through the side door at the front, as well as a height difference at the back, so I suspect it has to do with the drainage for things like the walk-in shower.

The sight of a flock of lapwings against blue sky also interrupted my fight with the hedge. The largest flock I've seen this year has been around 100, same as last winter, but (unlike last winter, when there were lapwings around earlier) although I heard a few at night in December, I didn't actually see any until January.

Now it's February. I've removed roughly half the hedge, but it's still a twiggy, untidy mess, still plenty to do. I really need to finish up and create some space to grow veg, but the weather has turned. Every time there's a clear spell and I put on work shoes and gloves, it starts raining as soon as I go back outside. It may be mild, but I would rather not work in the rain.

Hedge hacking in progress

No wonder everything is so green! Some of the campanula on the patio has had occasional flowers throughout the winter, and there are now flowers on some of the primulas and rosemary. I thought I had a pot of snowdrops, but couldn't find it the other day. However, the many muscari (grape hyacinths) have little flower spikes just waiting to shoot up, and the ipheion next to the front porch has a flower on it too.

A friend commented that it was 'such a lot of work', but I like it. All I need is some better weather so that I can do a lot more!

Happy New Year 2016

Well, here we are again. Most of the people I know seem to have had quite an eventful 2015. Some had nice life events; engagements, marriages, babies, new jobs. Some had difficult or sad events such as surgery, deaths of pets or family members. Some had a perfect storm of horrible events; death, divorce, forced sale of their home, diagnoses of chronic and/or serious illness for themselves or family members, car accidents, multiple breakdowns of things like computers and white goods. I don't know what it was about last year, but many people are glad to see the back of it. It was a year of changes for me, but I feel like I got off relatively lightly. My house purchase and move went okay, despite coinciding with exams and a biopsy, the results of which showed nothing to worry about. Although I only managed to get one job interview and that was a 'no', and class attendance has been at an all-time low, the osteoarthritis has been relatively good; all the yoga, mindful movement and daily physio exercises have paid off. Things could be worse.

As ever, the time has flown by since I moved. I see I didn't blog much this year, probably because I would just be repeating myself about cleaning furniture, unpacking boxes, sorting things out. And yet I managed more beach time this year, even if it was less about lolling around with a book in the sunshine and more beach-combing in a chilly breeze.

As I mentioned in a previous post, a lot of the time has gone in problem solving. Working out how to fit furniture into rooms of a different size and shape. Moving bits of furniture and heavy boxes on my own (it's all about levers - I even managed to right my swing seat when the last lot of high winds tipped it over on the patio). Trying to fit things into a kitchen which has more cupboards than my previous one, but paradoxically, less space because the cupboards are all smaller. Drying washing indoors without my beloved laundry maid airer (no space for it in the new place, unfortunately). Getting the computer, TV and other bits of media kit connected. Trying to get the Christmas lights working. (Lay them out flat - a miracle, they all work! Fight with the metres of twisty wires to arrange them on the tree and switch on again, wow, all working! Switch on the next day, a set of 10 has gone off. Uttering my usual mantra 'Okay, I can do this, lots of people do it, how hard can it be?' Find the spare bulbs and set to work trying to find the one that's blown. None of them look as though they have blown. The instructions to 'just ease the bulb out of the holder' belie the difficulty of removing them. A couple of hours and wrecked thumbnails later, I have replaced all 10 bulbs in the loop which failed and not managed to fix the problem. Decided that I need to leave it otherwise I'll never get the tree decorated and add some sort of voltage detector device to the wishlist.)

What is it with me and heating systems though? Back at the beginning of the year, I had a freezing few weeks in my old place when the pump failed, the boiler tripped off and I couldn't get responses or sensible help from heating engineers to fix it. Now, the heating and hot water here have gone wrong. I already knew this heating system would need replacing, and the grand plan was to replace the back boiler with a new combi boiler vented through the roof, and replace the gas fire in the living room with a small woodburner. The quote I had from British Gas for the boiler and plumbing came to £6500, which was pretty much £2000 beyond my budget. I meant to follow through with other quotes, but as each job application was rejected, it seemed impossible that I could afford it in the short term.

In the meantime, the heating and hot water at least worked, after a fashion. I found early on that the timer controller in the airing cupboard didn't actually work, and was told by the seller that they used to leave the heating on 'continuous' in the winter and just let the thermostat switch it on and off. Once I started the heating for the winter, I found that in fact the thermostat didn't seem to work at all. Then, with an alarming whirring noise a few days before Christmas, the heating went off. Switched off and on again. Nothing. Switched on the gas fire - that works. Switched on the hot water, the water doesn't heat but the heating comes on instead. Rummaged around in the airing cupboard, failed to find a separate immersion switch. Gave the 3-way valve a tap or two with a hammer, just in case, but no difference. Called a few heating engineers - all calls went to their telco messaging services and I received no call-backs. Ditto a few calls made between Christmas and New Year. At least I have an electric shower, the washing machine and dishwasher are cold fill, and I can boil a kettle for other washing up, but it's a bit tedious not having hot water on tap when you're used to all mod cons*. I know, #firstworldproblems.

So, the year has turned a corner, the days are supposed to be getting longer (difficult to tell, as the weather continues mild, wet and windy) and in addition to the preparation for this term's classes and the looming tax deadline, I need to find a heating engineer who answers their phone and is willing to tackle an older system to restore my hot water.

Happy 2016! Let's hope it's a good one for all of us!

*Note for non-English readers and space aliens: 'All mod cons' stands for 'all modern conveniences', that is, things like electricity, central heating, hot and cold running water and an indoor bathroom and toilet; a phrase which used to feature in adverts for places to rent or buy and which you don't see any more, presumably because it is taken for granted.

December Already?

So it is! The weeks have been flying by and it's now only a week until Yule!

Apparently, November was unusually warm. Not that we had much sun - it was also unusually dull and wet. The relative warmth was due to the lack of frost here, only one real frost so far this winter and that didn't occur until around the 21/22 November. I can't remember the exact date, and didn't take a photo even though the fields behind the house looked rather nice dusted with ice, but I do remember thinking that it was about a month late compared to where I used to live.

We've had four winter storms in the seven weeks or so since the Met Office and Met Eireann started the named storms project to raise awareness of severe weather and to track how many storms we get over winter. I don't think I need my awareness raised, but it seems some people still don't take enough notice of severe weather warnings.

I understand that storms and severe weather warnings (and for that matter, the EA flood warnings) have a linked but separate existence, but I'm unclear on the criteria for a storm and for severe weather warnings. South West Wales was outside the area for severe weather warnings during storm Desmond, and yet there was heavy rain, flooding, and damage from high winds. In fact, when I went out to teach the other Thursday evening as storm Desmond started to build, it felt worse than on the previous Monday, when I cancelled a class due to the (then) severe weather warning. I left a comment on the Met Office Facebook page asking for clarification; given a reasonably high likelihood of the forecast, how much rain and how high a wind speed/gusts are required to be thought impactful enough to generate the severe weather warning? And when is stormy weather bad enough to be a named storm? Unfortunately, it seems the Met Office doesn't answer their visitor posts. And, judging from some of the comments on their posts, many of their visitors don't read the older posts or really understand the forecasts either, so there's lots of whinging comments about naming storms and the inaccuracy of forecasts.

I'm seeing far more birds now than earlier in the year, including a Robin who regularly comes to the garden, Blue Tits searching out spiders from the window frames and many more Starlings. The Swallows slipped away gradually at the end of the summer, and although I've seen flocks of winter thrushes flying over, none seem to settle on the horse fields behind the house. Back in September, there were often early morning skeins of geese flying over and I saw a Kestrel out looking for lunch one day when I was emptying the compost caddy into the main bins.

In the last week of November, I started to see Lapwings over and on the horse fields, with numbers building daily from 16, then 30, then 45, then 75. The flock flew back, forth and around, spilling a few members at a time until all were on the ground. They were happy enough on the ground with a few rugged-up ponies, Starlings, Rooks, Jackdaws and a mix of Herring and Black-Headed Gulls, but the occasional loud bangs from the other side of Langford Farm, where the new school is being built, was enough to send them all into the sky again, presumably in search of somewhere more peaceful. I reported this sighting to the Pembrokeshire Birds blog, which contains all sorts of sightings. Pembrokeshire is outstanding for birding, with passage migrants, accidentals and a huge variety of resident birds. If you want to do a spot of birdwatching and want to know where to look and what to look for, it's worth checking out the blog!

Over the following couple of days, the numbers of Lapwings reduced and I haven't seen any now since probably the beginning of December. On one of the last sightings, there was a glimmer of sun between showers which really set off the iridescence of the feathers as 30 or so Lapwings sheltered on a muddy strip of the field, poached by the horses' hooves as they wandered up and down a line of electric tape fencing. Everything was peaceful until some Herring Gulls started to get stroppy with a Buzzard, who had evidently wandered into their personal space. There has often been a rather wet and sorry-looking Buzzard pacing around the fields, presumably taking advantage of worms, slugs and other invertebrates in the grass. On one occasion there were two Buzzards, presumably a pair since they wandered around happily only a few metres apart from each other. Anyway, the Lapwings were fine with the Buzzard, but the Herring Gulls saw it off.

The colder weather has revealed what an unevenly-heated house this is. Downstairs is quite draughty, especially the extension, where the wind sounds like a kazoo as it forces its way in past the seals on the side door and through the outlet hole for a tumble drier. The big windows, so great for solar gain, are pretty cold when there's no sun. Suddenly, insulating tape, curtain poles and lined curtains have appeared on my priority list. And in order to put the curtain poles up, (once I decide what I want and can afford it!), I needed a combi-drill. When I was thinking about curtains, I suddenly realised that this is the first time I'm in a place where I can please myself about decor. No landlord, parents or partner to allow or object and the only compromises are related to the structure of the house and what I can afford (currently, not a lot!). The second realisation was that I no longer have any idea what I like or want by way of decor!

Cleaning, unpacking and sorting is still ongoing. It's a good job I have a lot of dusters and I get some daily satisfaction from tossing used ones into their wash-bin. I thought I would have finished within six months, but it is something of a constant problem-solving exercise and there's only so much I have the time and energy (and money!) for every day. For example, the co-ax cable from the TV aerial was too short to reach the TV. I was sure I had an extension cable, so unpacked more boxes until I found it. Then found the connector on one end was wrong and I didn't have an adapter, so went to buy an adapter, but couldn't find just the adapter, so had to buy another extension. I still haven't found the cause of the problem with my turntable, although I solved the problem with the speaker connections. And I think I may have a solution for using the old video player for playback, but need a type of lead which I definitely don't have anywhere and haven't been able to find in town. Similarly, I also need a wireless dongle for the TV, now that I can't easily run cable from the router to the TV.

One of the next jobs is to find the Christmas decorations, which have gone unused for at least six years, and make the place feel more festive. My place is looking a bit drab compared to the neighbours'. I've had two 'Christmas' dos already - a meal at a local pub with the local over-50s exercise class, and the Ceredigion belly dance classes' party which is always great fun. I was thinking of having a Yule party, but a friend has invited me to hers instead.

 

A late lunch, one of the cats and the To Do list are all calling me ....

Not Meant To Be

I'm something of a believer in whether things are meant to be, or not. Whether you attribute it to the mysterious movings of the universe, serendipity, coincidence, fate, karma, predestiny, messages from God or the angels, there are times when you get the feeling that things are conspiring against a course of action. Then you have a choice; fight on and try to make it happen, or accept that some things are not meant to be. Of course, you may not believe in this and consider it a defeatist attitude, that you can make anything happen and do anything if you want it badly enough. I agree that some things are worth giving your all, but some are not. Pick your battles!

Last week I planned to treat myself to a somatics workshop. It's so long since I went up to Penpynfarch and I live even further away now, but the application of what I've learned in previous workshops has shown some subtle but positive results, both in dance and in managing the osteoarthritis.

Knowing I would hit the local rush hour, I gave myself an extra half an hour on the journey time suggested by the AA. The weather forecast was not good; Barney, the second of the Met Office/Met Eireann named storms was due. It would make for a horrible journey home, with a yellow warning for high winds starting from mid afternoon, but I reckoned if I stuck to main roads once out of Llandysul, it would be okay.

I set off on time and had only gone a couple of miles when I joined a queue of traffic into Haverfordwest. It took me all of my spare half hour to get past the town (normally a ten minute drive!), with red lights all the way. It was pouring with rain, blustery wind dumping bucketfuls onto the windscreens and roads. Drivers sensibly slowed down, but I got to a point on a road without a good place to overtake where I was behind a laden cattle truck grinding away at 20 miles an hour.  Each time we came to a junction, I was muttering 'please turn off', but no, it looked like it was going my way. I could see a tailback in my rear view mirror, and I bet those drivers were muttering something too.

By the time I had been driving for over an hour and a half, I had made 25 miles - half way - and had a splitting headache. I stopped at a garage for a toilet break and a drink of water. If I carried on in this worsening weather, I would get there in time for lunch, but feel compelled to set off early to avoid the worst of the weather. And I would hardly be able to move after driving for so long. Feeling like a complete and utter wimp, I decided to turn around and go back. Back up over the Preselis, through a pea-soup of low cloud and lashing rain. The cattle grid at Bwlch Gwynt was underwater, and the rain ran in rivulets down the roads to pool in the dips.

It took me nearly an hour and a half to get back home, too; a round trip of 50 plus miles in 3 hours. Knees stiff from driving, I dragged myself upstairs to email an apology, then into the kitchen to make a vegetable and bean stew, one of my ideal winter comfort foods.

I was waiting for a call to let me know the results of a job interview the previous day, but didn't get the call until a week later. It was a 'no', but at least they called with feedback, reinforcing my feeling that they would have been a good company to work for. Another thing that wasn't meant to be.

As I was writing this, I checked my email for a reply to another application, which seemed to be taking a long time. Sure enough, I had an email at last ... and it was a 'no'. It left me wondering what it takes, since I was sure I'd effectively ticked every skill and attribute in the job and personnel description. I can only hope that the two friends I know who were after the same job at least get an interview.

I've been pouring energy into trying to find employment, searching job sites, updating CVs, sending applications, reading around companies and skills in preparation for interviews which hardly ever happen. At a time when class numbers and commitment are low, and nobody seems to have money for anything which they consider non-essential (including proofreading!) I had hoped that employment would give me some money and security. Perhaps that's not meant to be.

Time to look again at my Plan B, and see what it would take to make it (or something like it) work. It will probably be a case of fighting to make it happen, but I would like to think that this time next year, things will be different.

Brass Monkeys

It's official - I really dislike January.

The deadline for online tax return filing looms over the month, stimulating a bout of sorting, filing and throwing-out, adrift in a sea of paperwork and fighting down feelings of guilt that yet again, I've left it all to the last minute.

The house search isn't very fruitful at the moment, as there is only a small trickle of properties coming onto the market, and I've been spoilt by the couple I've liked not being available. Now I keep comparing properties to those, and nothing as good has come up since.

There was a time, a few years ago, when starting classes in January was not too difficult, providing you waited a couple of weeks for those on Winter Sun holidays to come back. Now, it's a fight; the active minority already has too much on, and everyone else is suffering cash shortages after Christmas, either has a seasonal lurgy or is caring for someone with one (my goodness, the illnesses going round at the moment!), or just doesn't have the time or energy. New Year's Resolution to learn something new, get happy and healthy? Forget it! None of my classes have restarted, due to such low numbers, although I'll restart Narberth next week. A proposal for a workshop on feet and footwork in mid January was greeted enthusiastically in mid December, but in the end, only half of those who signed up for it actually came. It's the difference between making a reasonable profit and barely covering costs. I've never found asking people to pay in advance successful as few commit and then, if you decide you haven't enough to go ahead and cancel, you have pre-payments to return and cancellation of the venue to deal with. Chatting to teachers at Fantasia in December revealed that there are problems getting people in to all sorts of classes and it's Europe-wide, not just the UK.

I sympathise about the lack of readies, really, I do. The car always seems to need a service around this time of year and is due an MOT in February, an expense I could do without, except that I cannot do without a car. Living in West Wales without your own transport makes it very difficult to go anywhere and it's virtually impossible when you live out the back of beyond as I do. I know, I've tried it.

The year may have turned the corner a few weeks ago and the days are getting longer, but it's still a cold, dark month. I've been fighting the urge to hibernate for a couple of months, and feel so tired. Sleep is often disturbed by heavy rain and hail rattling against the windows and the roaring, howling and banging from gale force winds. My skin is dry, my nails split, and my hair becomes a tangled, frizzy mess from the static generated by wearing hats and scarves.

In previous years, I've had to deal with rationing the LPG and running out when the top-up has been delayed by bad weather and high seasonal demand. The gas company seems to have this sussed now, with smaller, more regular top-ups ahead of the worst of the weather. However, this year I've just had a week and a half with no heating in my cottage, except for a small fan heater which seemed to do little more than stir the cold air unless I sat right next to it, because the boiler tripped off and then wouldn't come back on.

I left messages for 11 plumbers asking for help, and put a job on the Rated People website, which got 45 or so views but no takers. Of the 11 plumbers, one phoned back and turned out not to do gas boilers, and another 2 got back and said they wouldn't attempt to fix it because it's old. One of those came out to look at it anyway and just started talking about replacing the whole system, including piping and radiators - within a couple of minutes, we were up to £2500 just for materials, never mind time and probably VAT. It seems that the location of the boiler here in the workroom is an issue because of the sink unit it's over; the distance from the boiler to the sink no longer conforms to building regulations and so the sink unit (or at least the taps) would have to be removed. Other furniture would have to be moved to access radiators and the disruption would be lengthy and total. And he was busy and couldn't fit me in, and in fact still hasn't got back with the written quote. The other said that the boiler make, Potterton, had been bought out by Baxi, and suggested I call their helpline. I did, and they tried to help, but admitted that the model was now obsolete and the best thing to do would be to have one of their engineers out. So the chap on the helpline did a search on their system, which helpfully supplied details of what it thought were the closest engineers to me - in Glasgow and Torquay. It turned out they have no engineers in West Wales. They also helpfully gave me a ball-park figure for a replacement system of £3500.

Messages to the remaining 8 plumbers have so far gone unanswered. I can understand at this time of year, they probably have more work than they know what to do with, want to work within their experience and don't want to mess with old, unfamiliar, conventional boilers, and it's not their problem that someone has no heating during a cold snap unless they take the job on. But leaving calls unanswered does them, and their industry, no credit at all. What if I had been a vulnerable adult?

In the meantime I was miserably, bone-achingly cold, despite layers of clothing, and the cats moped with their fur fluffed out. Xena was especially miserable, as she's a cat who likes her warmth and I had to stop her sitting right next to the fan heater. It took me a few days to track down a well-hidden switch to the immersion heater. All I wanted to do was huddle under blankets and feel grateful that at least I had a roof over my head, even if it was only just frost free. It made me even more determined that my new place should have a woodburner or fireplace, preferably the former as you can also cook on a nice woodburner with a flat top. The layers made even basic things like washing up difficult, as I was constantly trying to drag my sleeves out of the water. I went next door to moan about the situation and warm up, and my friendly ex listened to the same symptoms I'd relayed to the plumbers and decided it was probably an electro-mechanical cause, rather than the gas boiler itself. So he came over, found a reset button on the boiler to get that started, checked the pump and decided it was worn, then over the next couple of days bought a new pump and 3-way valve and fitted them. What a star! It turns out I didn't so much need a qualified and registered gas plumber as an experienced, electrician/handy man with a brain!

Now I am (relatively) warm again, but realised the physical effects of sitting huddled against the cold in my first yoga lesson. I was extremely stiff around my shoulders and down my sides. Being cold made my joints ache, particularly my knees and feet, and now only extreme warmth (hot water bottle, hot bath, hot jacuzzi, sauna, steam room) stops the ache.

The heating is valiantly trying to keep the cold at bay, but there's a light covering of snow outside now - only an inch at the deepest, but it's due to turn to ice tonight. Well, happy Imbolc, all. Only another 6 weeks until Spring!

Christmas Socks

Oooh, my freezing toes! I spent the solstice planning a workshop on the use of the feet and floor in dance, and it made me start to think about Norwegian-style stranded colourwork socks to lounge about in. I found several designs by Drops, but decided to have a go at these using some of my acrylic DK stash, just to see how the yarn performed and to practise my stranding technique. Instead of the traditonal red and off-white shown on the pattern, I went for blue and cream.
Apart from the fun of the colourwork patterns, DK knits up so quickly compared to 4 ply! Once I got to the solid-colour foot, I was wizzing along and knitted a pair of socks in a couple of sessions. Unhappy with my sloppy stranding, as well as a noticeable 'jog' (discontinuity in the pattern) between rounds, I frogged my first attempt at the colourwork. Various YouTube videos provided guidance on stranding techniques and advice on how to avoid the jog. While my stranding was easy to tidy up, I'm still not jogless, although I've tried lifting the first stitch of the second row, tightening the last and leaving the first stitches loose, knitting the first stitch twice ... they might work with thick stripes, but I need to find out more and think about how to manage this with more intricate patterns. One piece of advice was just not to worry about it, on the basis that once you've pulled the stitches about to block the item or wear it, it will look a bit more even.

Even with tidier stranding, my tension tightens a bit over colourwork, so I went up a needle size with the decrease for the leg after the cuff, for ease. I tried these on once they were finished, and on my chunky ankles and legs, I think I would need to go up a needle size again.

Pattern and modifications summary:
Cast on 56 sts with blue on 4 x 3.75 mm dpns (14 sts/needle)
knit 1 round  blue
knit 1 round  cream
12 r k2,p2 rib in cream
Change to 3 x 4 mm needles for decrease round (k5, k2tog) 8 times, leaving 48 sts (16sts/needle)
knit 1 round in cream before working chart A.
Redistribute stitches (without working) by popping the last 3 from needle 1 and the first 3 from needle 3 onto needle 2,  to leave 22 on instep (needle 2) and a total of 26 for heel.
Knit needle 1 sts and turn to start the heel flap on a purl (WS) row.
13 rows heel flap
Heel decreases (square heel) worked well, neat and no holes. Knit across needle 1 and pick up 11, work instep, pick up 11.
Knit a round after the pick-up round, putting the last stitch of needle 1 and first of needle 3 onto needle 2 to get 24 sts on instep and count this as foot round 1
Start gusset decreases on the next round 2 and on rounds 4 and 6.
Foot total 40 rounds before working toe decreases, leaving a total of 8 sts for the gathered toe. (I’ve changed my mind about gathered toes - it looks very neat.) Foot length is just about 24 cm, so size 38/39.

Working on these socks reminded me that I was going to write a post comparing the various makes of acrylic DK I had used on the colour sampler blanket, because I noticed significant differences. So it was on these socks; the cream acrylic was Woolcraft New Fashion DK, a whole ball left over from the colour-play crochet blanket. It's quite thick for a DK and a little coarse and fuzzy. I'm not sure I would use it for socks again - the legs on these can almost stand up by themselves. The blue is Hayfield Bonus DK 'Sapphire', which is thinner and softer, and rather lovely because the colour isn't quite solid. Although the foot length is right for me, the ankle/leg width isn't, so I'll offer these for sale at my Dancing Feet Workshop.

Rain Stops Play

Although I wish for higher numbers in class, I have a lot of sympathy for those who take one look outside on these dark, cold nights and decide that snuggling on the sofa with a mug of tea wins against going out to class. The other night while I was changing to go out to teach, I had to fight down the urge to change into my pyjamas and just go to bed with a mug of cocoa. It was windy, pouring with rain, dark and dismal, and it was only the thought of my dancers having to brave the same for their love of the dance that got me going.

I rarely cancel a class, or skip one myself, but sometimes the weather is just too much. Yesterday was a case in point.  Ready to go, I stood at the back door and watched soaking wet birds in the garden. The chaffinches and blue tits were irritable and squabbled constantly. The robin and blackbird were finding some tasty bits from the compost heap, and a couple of song thrushes were pecking at fallen crab apples. I meant to make crab apple, ginger and mint jelly this year, as the fruit set on the apple was very heavy. But it's been raining for weeks, turning the little golden apples from under-ripe to splitting and mouldy within a week.

I set off for yoga class at 4.00 pm, and quickly realised that the deluge I skipped through to shut the hens away and dive into the car had evidently been going on for hours. Ah, the joys of living in the country! There are a few miles of back roads in every direction before I can get onto a main (A-class) road. The roads were starting to resemble a series of streams and lakes. I had to turn back on my first choice of route, because although I have a Fiat Panda 4x4, it's still quite a small car in comparison to a Land Rover, and I met a flooded section I wasn't confident about; I knew the road dipped, but how deep was the water?

After 25 minutes' driving, I was still only 4 miles from home. The water on the roads was getting deeper, it was getting dark, if I did manage to get to class I would be quite late, and I knew the heavy rain was forecast to continue through the night. In the dark, with floods across the roads getting deeper and difficult to see, the return journey would have been a bit stressful, to say the least, even in my relaxed, post-yoga state!

I sent a text to explain and apologise for absence, then turned around and headed home. Already, there was more water across the roads, as it fountained up out of drains, poured off the land through field gates and overflowed the ditches, washing leaves, wood and stones out onto the roads.

Once home, I looked up the weather forecast, mug of tea in hand. The yellow weather warning for heavy rain was in place until 9.00 am this morning. Last winter was extremely wet, so I hope we're not in for a repeat. This is from the Met Office summary:

'Winter 201[3-201]4 was an exceptionally stormy season, with at least 12 major winter storms affecting the UK in two spells from mid-December to early January, and again from late January to mid-February. When considered overall, this was the stormiest period of weather experienced by the UK for at least 20 years. An analysis of pressure fields by the University of East Anglia suggests this winter has had more very severe gale days than any other winter season in a series from 1871.
The persistent heavy rainfall through the season resulted in this being the wettest winter for the UK, England, Wales and Scotland, and the equal-wettest winter for Northern Ireland in series from 1910. It was also the wettest winter in the long running England and Wales Precipitation series from 1766. There were more days of rain during the winter than any other in a series from 1961.'

Residents in the Somerset Levels, which were under water for weeks, may feel that this is an example of British Understatement.

The horrible weather has reminded me that I need to take a look at my severe weather policy for class cancellations. Out here in the Wild West of Wales, even a yellow warning can make road conditions quite dangerous.  I asked to cancel an adult education class back in February when there was a yellow warning, but with a forecast for wind speeds increasing to hurricane force later, and was met with a certain amount of scorn and derision. 'It's only a bit windy. You won't get paid, you know, and you'll have to make the class up at some other time.'  By the time the class members had been contacted, the severe weather warning had changed to amber, and the centre was closed because tiles were beginning to fall off the roof and there was a risk of being hit by flying debris. Only a bit windy.

Needless to say, if an amber weather warning is in force, the class will be cancelled. I don't want anyone to risk driving to class in severe weather like that. In those circumstances, snuggling down on the sofa with a mug of tea is fully justified!

New Year 2014

2013 feels as though it lasted five minutes and went on forever.  It wasn't a great year, but compared to the terrible time some of my friends have had, it's not been too bad, for which I am grateful.

As the calendar rolled over from 2013 to 2014, I was having a great time in the company of some wonderful old friends, the sort who are more like family, and my lovely step children.  They stayed for a couple of days, then got away early on the 3rd of January, just as another spell of awful weather came in. It's a good job they were driving, despite the horrible road conditions, as only an hour after they had left, I heard that trains were not getting beyond Cardiff due to flooding.

I see from my first post in 2013 that a lot of people in the UK had a miserable Christmas and New Year 2012 due to flooding, and it was the same, if not worse, this year. A series of lows brought heavy rain, hail and gale force winds. Early December saw the east coast experiencing the worst tidal surge for 60 years, washing cliffs and homes into the sea. People in places like Kent and Surrey had no electricity over Christmas. I lay in bed at night listening to scary shipping forecasts, with wind speeds ranging from gale force 8 to hurricane force 12! Further heavy rain brought flooding, then more rain and westerly gales combined with high tides to create storm surges, creating more flooding and some impressive damage up the west coast. There are some amazing pictures on the BBC and local newspaper sites of flooded Somerset levels, where trees and telegraph poles show that you aren't looking out to a lake or the sea. The storm surges came through sea defences in several places on the Welsh coast, flooding and smashing properties, breaking up roads and undermining railway tracks.  The high shingle bank at Newgale was breached, with stones pushed back all over the road, and I saw an impressive photo of the pub and shop surrounded by flood water which also covered the main car park and campsite, completely closing the coast road up to Solva and St David's. Hotels and flats on the front at Aberystwyth had to be evacuated as the sea punched holes in the prom and waves crashing against the sea wall bounced almost as high as some of the five-storey buildings. I was amazed to see people standing close to impressive waves breaking at Porthcawl. Quite mad - not only can the waves sweep you off your feet, but they also throw rocks around!  I thoroughly recommend you go browse for some pictures if you haven't already seen some, and always recommend a visit to John Mason's blog. Meanwhile, much of the USA and Canada has been in the grip of a polar vortex which has shifted south, resulting in astonishingly and dangerously low temperatures and more impressive pictures.

There were thunderstorms later on the 3rd which resulted in the power here going off and on, and at one point in the evening there was a sudden ZAP! and crash of thunder, after which I left the computer off and went to have a candle-lit bath and curl up in my pyjamas and gown with a hot water bottle and hot chocolate in front of the TV.  The following morning I couldn't re-establish an internet connection and it took 4 days to discover that the ZAP! had been a comms cable being fritzed. Luckily, I was mostly backed up, and it wasn't the network card or whatever. Being without internet left me feeling disconnected from the rest of the world and surprised by how stressed I felt as a result.  I realised how much I rely on just being able to look something up, pop into Facebook, send an email or easily find information whenever I need to. Being without a computer as well would leave me feeling like I'd lost something essential. In the past eight years or so, my computer and internet connection have become my security blanket.

So here we are in January again, a new year but the same old thing - thinking about resolutions and muttering darkly to myself as I try to finish the accounts for the tax deadline at the end of the month. Every year I resolve to have a cleaner, tidier house, to be more organised, to lose more weight and take better care of myself and so on and so forth.  I used to beat myself up about my perennial failures, instead of focusing on the many small successes. In the end, though, resolutions for new year (or at any other time, for that matter), are generally just decisions to try to make changes to improve yourself, your lifestyle and your environment for the better and to find a way to do the things you want or need to do.

My word for 2013 was More, as in do more, be more productive, creative, organised. I'm not sure that I managed it completely, (and I doubt anyone ever looked back on their life and felt they should have spent more time doing housework) but it is still a good word. While casting around for this year's word (Plan? Skills? Create? De-clutter?) I saw what friends were posting to sum up their previous year and form a basis for the new year's resolutions.  Some had a sort of score card going on. (weight lost: 7 kg; operations: 2; new qualifications: 1; new job: 0 ...).

Perhaps I don't need a different word for this year, or a set of resolutions. All the usual challenges still stand, and the To Do list is as long as ever. It's just a matter of finding the areas for improvement. The winter storms and loss of internet for a few days have shown the value of disaster planning and increased resilience. I need more income (doesn't everybody?). There's nothing like having to solve problems and attempting to do more for highlighting what you don't know.  So I shall continue to try to fill the gaps in my knowledge and skills, especially in terms of computers, crafts, and dance.

Bring it on, 2014; I'm resolved to enjoy it!

Cold and Frosty vs Warm and Woolly

I can't remember whether I've had to deal with frosty car windows yet this autumn, but it seems to me that last Wednesday was the first 'real' frosty morning here.  If that's true, then it was really late.  Suddenly, any leaves which managed to cling on after the high winds a couple of weeks ago have turned more vivid colours. The temperature is dropping and the weather forecast is for a very cold snap in the next couple of days.  The cats look at me sadly when the radiators are off and/or their bowls are empty.  They are more reluctant to go out and quickly come back in, eager to dry their cold, wet paws on a warm human, preferably one with a warm towel to dry them off.

Time for thick jumpers, hats, scarves, socks, and all things snuggly, including an urge to knit!  Oooh, yes, I need some fingerless gloves, and a cowl, and I wanted to learn to knit socks, and another hat might be nice, and what about some sort of woolly earwarmer headband, and a hot water bottle cover, and legwarmers, and a knitted dress and there's that wonderful cabled sweater I was going to make ....

I love cables! It's the thing I have for Celtic knotwork. The sweater appears to be cabled all over, is quite long with a big collar and takes a lot of yarn. Cue browsing in a few online knitting shops. Eeek! Even in a fairly cheap wool, it will cost around £75?  Is it my imagination, or was knitting wool relatively cheaper a long time ago? There seemed to be a point in the late '70s where the cost of yarn to knit a jumper seemed expensive against the price of jumpers in the shops. I remember knitting a chunky jumper as a present for a friend in the early '80s, and finding the money for the yarn was more difficult than knitting the jumper! Perhaps I'll have to do some serious research into online yarn shops and find a wool mix yarn to use for that sweater.  My local yarn store specialises in Rowan yarns, which are gorgeous and out of my budget, even when on sale. Something in me rebels against using 100% acrylic for this and the other lovely cabled jumpers I've seen, even though acrylics now are often better quality than the soapy-feeling '70s yarns which pilled as soon as you looked at them and stretched after washing. The cabled sweater needs three or four sizes of circular knitting needles, which of course I don't have. And of course, if those sizes don't give you the correct tension swatch result, just change needle sizes ... which I still don't have! Rules of the stash - you have all sorts of things except that which you specifically need. I might have to treat myself to a set of interchangeable circular needles just to get a selection of sizes and cable lengths in one fell swoop.  I managed to find some 'sets' of dpns at a charity shop a while ago, but never see circular needles.

Yes, the stash, which reminds me of other projects on hold and which I should complete before I start any more.  I discovered an unfinished cardigan in 4 ply when I was sorting out a box this summer (in a shade of blue I would not normally go for and I don't know what size I was making. What was I thinking?). Not to mention a bag of fleece which needs dealing with, because I am going to learn to spin. So to satisfy my knitting urge, I've picked up my mohair autumn leaves thing again.  I still haven't decided what to do with it, because I'm very bored with it, but I feel like I've put in too much work just to junk it. I was thinking along the lines of a shrug, but I don't think what I had in mind will work. One of this week's jobs will be to take a few of the leaves and see what size they are after blocking. Note to self: just get over it and learn to do colourwork. Aran has always seemed so easy to me, and  Fairisle so complicated, but lots of people do it so how hard can it be?

I might have to have a go at some fingerless gloves too, because my hands get so cold (honest!) ... but only if I promise to myself to use yarn and needles from my stash!

January Brings the Snow ...

Makes your feet and fingers glow - according to Flanders and Swann, that is. It arrived last Friday, 18 January and is still here, albeit much melted and looking filthy.  I reckon we had at least 12"/30cm over 6 days. Not that much, really, but enough to cause disruption and damage.

I took a friend to a consultant's appointment in Haverfordwest on Wednesday.  It was snowing here when I left, although none was forecast, but at least the fresh fall made it easier to get up the icy drive from the barn.  The road had been gritted and was pretty good; wet, not icy and the snow wasn't settling (or 'sticking', as they say around here).  Haverfordwest was clear and we were going to stay for lunch when J's mobile went mad with calls and messages from friends and family, saying how heavily it was snowing, and to get home NOW!  The A40 was fine to the outskirts of Narberth, then we turned north onto the A478 and into the snow line.  Driving became increasingly interesting and was getting a bit hairy by the time I dropped J at Glandy Cross.  She had about 8 miles to go on the main road to get home, and I had about 4 miles on back roads.  Really, the driving wasn't too bad on the fresh snow (I have a dinky little 4x4) but I was glad when I got home, and already the depth of snow made it difficult to turn into the barn. After I left her, J had 2 near misses when she was just sitting in her car, as drivers took the turn into the side road badly and slid towards where she had parked (nice and safely, a good distance from the junction!). She was on the phone to her brother in law at the time and he came out with the truck from his garage, to make sure she got home safely.

Meanwhile, it continued snowing heavily, and there was no way I was going to be able to get back out again, or guarantee I would be able to get home safely that night.  So I had to postpone the belly dance taster workshop I was supposed to be giving that night in Tenby, which hardly had any snow.  There were 18 signed up for it!  We're going to try to do it next week, instead.

I heard a whooshing and cracking sound during the evening and found that it was an avalanche of snow off next door's roof, which brought down a section of guttering.  The guttering on my cottage was bulging with the weight of snow, too.

Snowy houseyard.

Thursday brought bright sunshine, but no real warmth except that generated by shovelling a path from the barn (used, amongst other things, to park vehicles out of the weather) and the houseyard gateway. When I went out in the evening to shut the hens away, I watched a droplet form on an icicle ... which started to freeze instead of dropping.  This morning, the yard outside my front door was a sheet of ice and I waded through the mounds of snow around the sides of the yard to get safely around to the hens. They are extremely fed up with the dark, wet weather, poor things.
The cats are also hating it.

Greebo and Xena curled like quotation marks and hogging the sofa

Yesterday evening's fun (?) was an abortive attempt to go to see another friend.  It was raining all afternoon, and getting steadily heavier until it was coming down in sheets.  The water was pouring out of field gateways, washing stones, muck and lumps of slushy snow out onto the roads, fountaining up from drain covers and creating floods which were becoming increasingly difficult to drive through (let alone see, in the dark). It took me 45 minutes to go 12 miles. I decided to call it a night and try to take a different route home, because I reckon I was one of the last little cars through a flood further back up the road. The local back roads were better than the main roads, but it was so foggy (or perhaps I was in the clouds?) that it was like driving in pea soup in places. Once home again and with a cup of tea in hand, I saw the flashing lights from two emergency vehicles as they sped past, and reports started to appear on the news about rivers bursting their banks and flooding in nearby towns. When I went to bed, the rain had stopped, to be replaced by a strong, gusty wind banging around and howling through the cat flap.

Snow, sunshine, ice, rain, fog and wind.  Pity the poor wildlife! I see flocks of starlings and thrushes flying over and wonder how they are coping.  Perhaps they are relying on the fields where stock are being fed and trample the snowy ground. One of the local Song Thrushes Turdus philomelos is using my back door step as an anvil, having found snails hiding in crevices under the ivy on the barn walls.

Pied Wagtail Motacilla alba

It's the RSPB Big Garden Bird Watch this weekend and for once, the weather isn't too bad here.  Will I see anyone at my feeder, given the competition from next door's mega bird table?

Happy New Year 2013!

We're all still here!  No noticeable changes yet, including the rain.  My heart goes out to all those people dealing with flooded homes and businesses.  Some have been flooded for a couple of weeks now, and the water still isn't draining away.  The fields here are sodden, water welling up over my boots as I slosh my way through the wet grass.  We're on a slope, so the whole lot is supposed to drain down into the ditches and streams, which have been cutting deeper channels on their way to the turbulent rivers. It's amazing to think that parts of the country were experiencing a drought last March (although we were merely dry here). The Met Office reports that 2012 was the second wettest year since records began in 1910 (2000 was wettest) and the third wettest year for Wales.  We get a lot of rain here anyway, so we received only 18% more than the long term average. Unfortunately, the forecast is for more extreme weather in future.

To counter the urge to hibernate, I went off to a beach on the last day of November and again on New Year's Day, taking advantage of fine afternoons with low tides and hoping that recent stormy weather would wash up some nice bits and pieces.  No such luck. The beach appeared to have been washed clean, leaving drifts of shelly trash and stones on the very wet sand.  There were a couple of nice pebbles - sometimes the sea leaves natural, unpolished 'cabochons' of stone.  I've been working on some stone pendants with peyote stitch bezels, and quite like the contrast of the silver lined beads against the matte stones.  I'm at the point where I need to decide what to do for a bail; bead or metal?  Or mount them directly onto a beaded rope? Feel free to comment!

For the past couple of months, I seem to have been mostly unpicking work.  Several designs have been tried and scrapped, because beads didn't work together or with the stitch I was using, or the stitch didn't work for the design. A design can look fine on paper, but not so good in reality. Well, at least I feel as though I'm learning a lot from my experiments.  Even the bracelet I made for my stepson was redesigned and remade about 4 times until I was okay with it. It started as all glass beads in 2 different sizes, and ended as alternating glass and haematite. And then I forgot to take a picture!

I also have a design in mind for the tusk shells, but it needs matching shells. Trying to match natural objects like shells and stones for shape and size is quite difficult, so I'm going to need a larger sample of shells in order to find two which are close enough. A good excuse for more trips to the beach.

There was also very little sea glass and of the few bits I found, half were still too sharp to be usable.  And that's another thing where you need a large selection to find pieces which even vaguely match.  I suppose that so much glass goes into the recycling bins that little is left as 'litter'.  A few months ago, I met a nice woman on Goodwick beach who was also looking for sea glass, for use in a mosaic.  We chatted and agreed that sea glass seems to be in short supply here.  If anyone who reads this walks the coast path from time to time, please could you do a favour for me and other crafters/artists out there.  Take a bottle with you, preferably one which is an interesting colour, and toss it off the cliff onto rocks in the sea at a fairly inaccessible point, taking care not to brain a passing seal, bird, dolphin, kayaker, climber or fellow walker, of course.  The rocks and sea will take care of the breaking and rounding off, and will hopefully deposit the bits on a beach ready for us to find and use.  Thank you!

New year, new goals. I'm not going to review my goals from last year. Any that I failed to achieve still stand. Ah, well, moving on ... my key word for this year is MORE.  As in, do more, be more productive, try to earn more, achieve more, see more of my friends.  The exception is to eat more, because I need to lose more weight.

I had a very quiet New Year, sitting on the sofa with a glass of perry, beading and watching the TV with a purring cat on either side of me. As the fireworks popped and sparkled over London, I sent a wish for us all to have a happy, healthy and prosperous 2013.