Yesterday the log man came; so today the hungry stove is happily ticking away with a belly full of sweet smelling wood. It feels so different here, although less than a hundred miles West of “home” – the log man gave me a goats’ cheese in return for 6 bantam eggs and we discussed the work of Kaffe Fassat, needlefelting and ceramic design over a cup of tea and home made custard creams…so civilized!
Anyway, after what seemed like a lifetime the internet has finally started to work this week (did they have to hand craft each wire from spun gold? What is going on with these companies?!) so I feel as though I am actually living here now…my enforced period of exile from real life is over and already it is the middle of March, snowdrops are making way for daffodils and I expect the Curlews have returned to the moor whether I’m there or not.
Certainly Cumbria is living up to its reputation, with rain every day and gales that mean I’ve spent much of the week armed with a butter knife and a pack of tissue paper, seeking out drafts to stuff. The Yorkshire saying “shut the door! were you born in a barn?” makes sense once you actually do live in a barn and the wind is hitting you in the face even as you sit in front of the tv watching Miss Marple, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a mug of hot tea.
Ah, but in between there are days that make you want to walk for miles and wish you’d brought a picnic. This is where I ended up on Monday afternoon having only intended to get some phone signal and take a few pictures of the sheep I’d just made…
Wearing a dress, Doc Martens and a big woolly jumper, it was only after I got up from the ground (getting a good angle) that I saw the other walkers; head to toe in sensible “outdoor gear” and probably relieved that I stood up before they had to call Mountain Rescue. I’m sure they didn’t spot my tiny sheep and thought I was just exhausted from the climb.
And so I continue to try and draw, struggle with motivation and spend a lot of time looking out of the windows wondering about the meaning of it all. Luckily I have found a lovely part time job which helps me feel less of a hobo. Purely by chance I walked in to a gallery to buy my daughter a birthday present and got chatting to the owner who turned out to be looking for someone to help out. Its a lovely little gallery, Northern Lights Gallery, with some gorgeous work and right next door to a favourite cafe, the Square Orange.
Tomorrow I’m meant to be going to a Beach Clean Up Day at Seascale, organised by an old school friend. Hopefully this nagging headache and dizzyness will have gone by then … probably need more coffee!
Yet again, a million thank yous to all of you for reading, sending messages and being so supportive; you’re wonderful.
Reading:- “The Fortress” Hugh Walpole and “Tove Janson, Love and Work” Tuula Karjalainen
Listening To:– ” Now is the Happiest Time of Your Life ” by Deavid Allen/ Gong who died today.