Whatever Happened to My Good Intentions?

Outside our home in the snow.

Here it is, the 12th February, and only my third entry to this blog-diary. To say this has been an eventful year so far would be putting it mildly, but sadly the events have not been happy ones. The unexpected deaths of two friends (followed by truly inspirational funerals) and the illnesses of family and friends, together with the whole gloomy financial situation which seems to be affecting so many people we know, has not got this year off to a good start.

Our biggest concerns, of course, have been about Kim, and John and I went down there end January/beginning February to help out whilst she was back in hospital again for more tests. It was such a trying time for her, poor soul, but eventually they did come up with a diagnosis, and she has returned home with the problems with her eye gradually improving.

Whilst down in Hampshire there was the heaviest snowfall for years, and the glorious scenery in the countryside along the Test Valley was transformed overnight to a real winter wonderland. The schools were closed, so the four kids were able to enjoy the rough and tumble of snowfights and toboggan rides, whilst we two oldies took a long sedate walk along the almost traffic-free local roads, just marvelling at the beauty all around, and trying to capture it on camera. The many and varied thatched cottages in the area looked so cosy wrapped in their snowy blankets, and families of ducks paddled happily in the icy streams, sometimes venturing out on to the banks, where their webbed feet didn’t always stop them sinking (amusingly) into the snow.

It was great to spend time with four teenage grandchildren, and to take a peek into their world. So much has changed since our own five were that age, not least the huge amount of technology which they seem to handle with such casual dexterity, and the sometimes incomprehensible language that they speak Still, it is reassuring to see that not everything has changed , and that teenage concerns and angst remain the same as ever. I could half close my eyes and see our 17 year old grandson, with his fashionably untidy hair and droopy denims morph into our own boys at that age….. who have now become such worthy pillars of the establishment, of whom we are rightly proud. That particular grandson delighted us by cooking a splendid breakfast for us all when the snow closed college, and on another occasion he serenaded us with a Bach Prelude on his guitar. Just some of the many pleasures that as grandparents we are privileged to enjoy.

So now we are back home in Somerset. We missed the heavy snowfalls here, but there has been more snow since our return, which though giving us the pleasure of seeing the surrounding countryside and our garden covered like white icing on a wedding cake, soon melted away. (…’there’s one thing about snow – it makes your lawn look as good as your neighbour’s!’) The fields beyond the stream had huge puddles everywhere, which froze overnight and glinted in the early morning sunshine before gradually soaking away into the ground. Much of Somerset has been flooded as a result of all the melting snow, but apart from great pools of water along the sides of local lanes, which our cars merrily splash into causing great crashing sprays over the nearby hedges, we have not had too much trouble here.

Whilst having lunch in the garden room earlier this week we were distracted from our TV viewing by the sight of two little egrets landing beside the stream beyond the paddock. Little egrets seems a strange name for these birds – they are pure white, about the size of ducks, but much more aerodynamically proportioned. They were clearly enjoying a little courtship routine – who told them it was Valentine’s Day on Saturday? Actually we have seen, and heard, lots of birds all a-twitter on the rare dry days recently, so surely spring can’t be too far away.

Having this cosy studio away from everything at the end of the garden, with a view from the window across miles of countryside beyond, allows me an unexpectedly close up view of the local wildlife as they go about their business. They seem totally oblivious to my prying eyes, so that the studio acts as a sort of ‘hide’. The other day, as I was working at my computer, I looked up to see a fox nosing around in the snowy grass just a few feet away. He seemed hot on the trail of something tasty, his nose twitching and head down as he searched the area in vain, finally heading off to pastures new. Perhaps he had caught a whiff of the cat, which earlier in the day I had been fascinated to watch sniffing about in the snow for some considerable time. I always thought cats didn’t like getting wet, but this one even had his underbelly drooping into the snowy wetness, but carried on intent on his purpose, till he did seem to find something to his liking, for I saw him high-step off with something wriggling in his mouth.

Another visitor we have been really delighted to see back again has been ‘our ‘ heron, who has appeared several times since our return. His ungainly flight and descent, like a heavy old transport aircraft, always catches our attention. He lands at the same place on the bank of the stream every time – as do the little egrets. We can’t see the stream itself from here, but there must be some particular feature at that spot which attracts these ‘fishing’ birds. In fact, one day last year we caught sight of our heron struggling back up the bank with a large fish struggling furiously in its beak. The fish put up a frantic fight, but of course the heron got his dinner in the end. We were so surprised that the little stream should support such a large fish but sometimes after a lot of rain, we can actually see the water from our windows - it is so high, so I suppose it is little wonder that fish, and perhaps other river creatures, are to be found there.

Whilst typing this, the tabby cat has been perched on the fence beside the paddock, gazing down into the rhyne below. In warmer weather TC, as we call him, is often to be seen picking his way carefully along the top of the fence, like a performer on a high wire, but in winter we don’t see him so often. Today it is relatively mild, so he has probably been lured from his fireside retreat, and although well fed by his kindly owner, has decided to look for a tasty snack to keep him going until his next proper meal. He spends simply ages sitting atop a fence post, peering down below, his head occasionally turning to one side, and now and again takes a leap down on to the bank. We are puzzled to know what he is looking for – surely not fish – but he must get lucky from time to time, or he wouldn’t keep returning to that same spot.

It must sound from all of this that we spend our whole time just watching the world beyond our windows ….. but for OAP’s of 74 and 70 we lead very full and busy lives. During the past few days, for instance, I have given a Talk to an audience of 80, have entertained people to supper, and been given a superb Valentine’s Evening supper by our lovely Irish neighbour and her husband, have attended an orchestra rehearsal for a Concert a couple of days later in Bristol (for which I had to find time for much needed cello practise), and have played 18 holes of golf with John out on the windswept coastal course at Clevedon. Together with all the usual housewifely pursuits( how delightfully retro that sounds), there is less time to stand and stare than I would sometimes wish. The day will arrive no doubt, but till then both of us are so much enjoying the energetic life we are so lucky to have.