Moving the oasis

Our snowflakes seemed magically, briefly, to restore our dog walking world to shiny frozen white. I finished that hat just in time for another snowy expedition but looking at this photo of it (and many taken of Mo playing recently) I realised how much of his time since Treacle's arrival has been spent above puppy height, sitting up on the kitchen worktop chatting to me while I chop vegetables, standing on a chair 'washing-up' at the sink or sitting in our window with his cars and trains. Its been bothering me that none of his play could be on the floor any more and after two walks in the pouring rain thinking bitter thoughts about the dog I did what I always do when faced with periods of personal crisis; I moved the furniture. I found the play pen we had for Myrtle when she was a baby and used it to barricade a section of the kitchen. Those warm blankets came downstairs for the sofa and with great delight I filled the newly puppy-proofed space with baskets of books and Mo's favourite toys. This has solved daytime play problems beautifully. Now Myrtle Mo and C are scootering up and down in the kitchen with all the lights off wearing head torches much to the dog's loud dismay. Hmm........

Cold

We are missing the snow. The paths through the fields are like glass and everywhere else is slush, grey skies and biting cold. Comfort comes in the form of a snowflake chandelier the children and I created at tea time with computer paper and glass baubles (still not put away from Christmas.) It's hard to photograph but it looked so beautiful to us after we finished that we sat gazing up at it. I hid upstairs during Mo's tiny afternoon nap to finish a hat and a book full of descriptions of deep snow. I miss having my blankets downstairs (turns out puppies and crochet don't mix) but they make our bed feel like some kind of deep winter oasis.

Ragged cloud brooch

I love the fraying edges of this linen scrap so left them showing and used more of the soft white tapestry wool to fill the cloud with snow. Another warm naptime of stitching after a walk through blue white fields sliced through with crisp, grey shadows. I love the way the snow softens and transforms everything, makes outdoors dazzlingly beautiful and indoors feel like a refuge to be savoured.

Blue-white

The children have been loving sledging at high speed in the half light after school. I have been enjoying a little slow stitching of snow clouds during the day. I saw a face in this cloud, pieced from Mr B's old work shirts and linen scraps, stitching snowflakes all around him with soft fine tapestry wool found in the charity shop.

More snow

Treacle mo and I crunched through snow and then munched through biscuit versions of ourselves back home!

Rest

Christmas brought us sleep and snow, a chance to walk and talk and gently pass the time. I had many lists of hand made things I was inspired, too late as ever, to make and managed half a knitted owl, still on the needles, and a tiny angel with a red dress for the tree. We loved lego troops collecting on December breakfast tables (one by one they appeared in those advent stockings thanks to a huge bag found in a charity shop), balls that lit up when they bounced, frozen mud, grey skies and winter light on walks with friends and family, slow meals, window stars, new bedroom arrangements, puppet shows, seeing for the first time in two years the empty bottom of the washing basket and (have I already mentioned this?) whole nights of sleep. Happy New Year!

Advent

The arrival of old, long-loved treasures has made a sad and beautiful start to advent. Myrtle is ill, sleepless in the night and restless in the day, distracted by making little pets from felt and houses for them to sleep in. We sent our handmade card swaps off yesterday to the U.S, Australia, China and Canada. This year I need to make more visits to the post office, inspired by all the people who owned this desk before us, filled it with paper and cards, neat address books, remembered birthdays, sent their thoughts out into the world.