We've put Christmas back in its box and launched a new decade. I enjoyed, briefly, the uniqueness of 1.1.11. The tree is down and I have an irresistible urge to fill the house with light and spring flowers. I optimistically had had my nose down in the garden today but didn't spy even the teeniest snout of a bulb. I thought the snowdrops might be about visible. Sigh. There's a way to go yet.
Resolutions. Hmm. I'm not much of a one for resolutions but have a stack of life improving aims instead:
The one involving 'cutting out biscuits' lasted until, erm, 10.30am on January 1st, when, due to overeating the night before (fab meal by the way) meant breakfast was given the elbow. Was I hungry or was I hungry? Bring on the custard creams.
The one involving glasses of wine lasted until about 6.30pm when the Glam Ass said convivially 'Fancy a glass of wine?' and I said, without pausing for breath, 'Yes. Why not?' It was good though.
The one where I take more exercise hasn't been tested yet but I do feel the need to be out there breathing cool fresh air. This aim may be achievable. I'll walk - walking far or fast isn't necessary; being and feeling part of our wonderful landscape is.
Tomorrow maybe? No, there is a hen house to clean out tomorrow. The day after perhaps? Well yes. Definitely. Maybe.
We'll see. There is a spider's web of lanes, tracks and paths on the Long Mountain to keep my feet busy in the coming months, stones to be unturned and voices heard. Romans at one end, Saxons at the other; tumulii, burial mounds and mottes in between.
I'm off to polish my best walking boots and look out the gaiters. Hope someone remembers to fire up the digital recorder.......