So here goes another break in the norm. I am writing this over coffee this morning instead of my usual after lunch ‘a la pizza’ musings. Firstly, I am going over to Denis’ Mum’s place for midday munchings in an hour or so and secondly, we ate the pizza last night. Another brave move from the routine. As we’d spent Friday night with friends down the rue emptying the contents of their fridge and wine rack, D and I decided to stay in and eat with Mumo - and inhale her delicious Italian offering. She makes the best.
It’s hard to believe it’s the end of January already, where the hell did the month go? Mind you, the current temperatures are more reminiscent of May – we are still in double digits and the thermometer hit 21 on Thursday. Of course, that would be the day I spent clearing out the largest of Abraham’s poly tunnels so that he could begin the new season’s planting. I still haven’t managed to remove all the minute hay needles from my jeans -even tweezers and a magnifying glass can’t eject the pesky pins. And boy, it’s hot in those tunnels. Sitting down over a beer later, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the windows. Let’s just say, a scarecrow would have been terrified at the reflection. And Abraham’s wasn’t the only ‘sauna’ being taken care of. Denis managed to get my little one up and installed at the back of the garden; in his words, Ikea instructions were easier to follow but he did it. I moved all my little seedlings in and bought a few others so they wouldn’t be lonely in their sweaty surroundings. At least if Mother Nature decided to throw us a curveball and send snow our way, I know where to keep warm.
On the plus side, ambient degrees make for gorgeous morning runs over the hills. And with the mornings becoming lighter earlier, I can start the pace under the moonlight and ascend into the sunrise – quite spectacular. Work has started back up on the vines too so the sound of Arry and co’s collar bells is now inter-mingled with the hum of tractors – strangely comforting in a way as we head out of winter.
And with that, I must depart for what will be, no doubt, a stomach stretching afternoon if I know D’s family. Oh, and the podcast is now up and running on Spotify every Sunday evening. I think I’m getting to grips with it now and my Ipad is still intact. I have no idea what tonight’s will be like but I shall keep the wine to a minimum. At least I have a voice now, last weekend I was reduced to rasping Dot Cotton style…
“Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.” (Paul Theroux)
Widow plus woofs 