Woke up this morning to the sun streaming through the wood framed windows. One of those mornings where one feels that everything, including the various difficulties, is just right.
Finished varnishing the little bit of wood floor that separates the sitting room from the kitchen and extends under the stairs, then went out for a stomp. Wellies still working very well. Fields still v. muddy and green, the breeze surprisingly warm for the end of November and sticks of dried and semi-rotted oak abundant.
Rosehips at exactly the right stage where one merely picks them and the place where the stem was leaves a little hole in he skin. You sqeeze out the red pastey stuff and eat it. Very healthy and tasty. Saw a pheasant, in full plumage, as the sun glinted off the irridescent neck feathers. Every time I see one, I think I ought to buy a gun. Lots of wood pigeons around too, and they give me the same thought. I remember the Psalm: "Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are escaped". Guns are expensive and difficult to obtain legally, but I've been wondering lately how one constructs and uses a net...
It's much easier here to think that everything in the world will turn out all right. Easier to remember that there is a God and He is more in charge than we think.
One thing has become abundantly clear, however.
I need a dog. A dog, in country like this, is completely indispensable.
2 comments:
Be careful... a dog means no more freedom to go and visit other people. Well, not without arranging for stays in kennels and/or dogwalkers/sitters.
People who invite me, will know that they are inviting my dog. Me n' the dog are a matched set...when I get one.
And besides, I'm too poor to go visiting in other parts of the country, by train at least. If people want to see me, they'll have to come here.
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