These days in the run up to Christmas are just so full. Its as if the vacuum created by keeping my work schedule relatively open sucked in every type of Christmas-related activity you could imagine. I suppose it is the fact of living a village life - if I am not attending a fair/nativity/visit with Santa/pantomime/show, I am baking for one.
The last week's activities took place against a background of rain, more rain, gales, sleet, snow and more rain. Finally, last night the weather bomb (the news' term, not mine) moved on and we were left with the perfect kind of winter's morning - the cold, crisp, cracking ice on puddles kind.
It is the perfect kind of respite from the mad rush that we've had for days and will see again come tomorrow. Georgia and Ellis spent every moment they could before rushing off to school playing outside this morning and the dog and I took our first not-miserable morning walk in weeks.
Speaking of dogs, a few weeks ago, our beloved dog Mac was hit by a car. It was very sad and very traumatic. Living alone at the end of a 1.5 mile track, you are lulled into a false sense of security and it took us all off guard. I cried for days. I am alone up here all day and didn't realise how much company he provided until he was gone. We'd been talking about getting a 2nd dog anyway and when a little Bearded Collie needed a home, we jumped at the chance. He is a lovely boy we named Marlow.
Ok, I am off to enjoy a few moments of quiet before the rushing begins again. Have a lovely weekend!