Pottering

It's been one of those busy weeks when you can't quite remember what you've been busy with. On Saturday we went walking with the walking friends.

The weather was perfect: not too hot but very pleasant. The company was lovely.

We walked past Penicuik House, just walls since a big fire in 1899. How sad the architect would be. 

The garden flourishes.

So do the Botanic Gardens.

And also Big Grandson, who's now 12 and taller than me. This is his cake, a German ICE train. Obviously.

We were on the beach today, and he built a tunnel system for - naturally - trains. 

And so life goes on. Such a pity that I'm getting so old. I'd like to go on pottering around for ever, really. But sadly... .
 

Post Christmas post

I hope everyone in the bloggy world is having a wonderful festive season. Ours is going well.

Look what I got for Christmas: a little 19th century Chinese medicine chest. I can’t quite decide where it’s going to go, but I love it.

Also please admire my Christmas jug, or as I find it must be described to Americans, pitcher.

Our son came home and Daughter 1 and her husband have been around quite a lot too. My brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew are up from England; they sleep at my mother’s house five minutes away – more space – but everyone eats here in the evenings. So we’ve been quite a numerous party at meal times. Lots of cooking and washing up.

Daughter 2, Son and Mr Life and I went for a walk in our beloved Botanic Gardens on Boxing Day. We saw lots of parents trying to exhaust small children, urging them to run about.

Last night the eleven of us went out for a meal to celebrate the Life thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. I’ve just Googled this and evidently it’s either the coral or the jade anniversary. I can’t say I feel great desire for either of these stones. Mr Life gave me a nice book on Sissinghurst Garden and I gave him… well, nothing. Oh dear. But he got a sat. nav. for his Christmas, which he’s been playing with since then.

We also raised a glass to Thimbleanna and TheManoftheHouse, who celebrated their thirtieth anniversary on the same day. We discovered this coincidence when Anna and I were discussing the possibility of their coming to look after our fluffy friends in October. Clearly they’re just beginners in this marriage thing compared to us, but I would say it’s beginning to look as if it might last for them too. Happy Anniversary, Thimbleanna and TMOFH!

Today we went to visit Mr Life’s relations on the other side of the estuary in Fife. They live in this large and enviable house, with a terraced garden and an uninterrupted view over the sea.

We had lunch – 20 of us – in the nearby golf club – with this view.

Then the more energetic members of the party walked back along the beach.

The sun was setting though it was only mid-afternoon.

Still, the days are getting imperceptibly longer. Spring can't be that far away.

Saturday

On Saturday, our church held a coffee morning. Afterwards we wandered the twenty yards down the road to the beach and sat on the sea wall. The weather was idyllic: the seductive aspect of global warning. My husband took some (slightly blurry) pictures on his phone camera.

The air was warm and perfectly still. On the beach, dog-walkers strolled while their charges sniffed seaweed or galloped about, leaving deep paw-prints. A few children built sandcastles with buckets, spades and deep concentration. The sea was a glassy blue and the waves whispered politely as they folded themselves on to the sand. There were a few strands of cloud resting gently on a bright blue sky.

A friend of ours was down by the water with his two grandsons, who were very busy with buckets. The boys’ father used to play rugby for Scotland and they seem to have inherited his speed and stamina. Beyond them, a boat moved through the middle distance, contrasting decoratively with the sea.

On such a day, you’d think that all was well with the world. Tension seeped out of the soles of my feet.

Then we went home. I spent the afternoon at the supermarket, heaving around an unusually full trolley of food (human and cat) and litter (cat). It cost £180. Sigh.

But yes, I know: we’re lucky to have food and to the money to pay for it. And to have cats.

And the memory of that golden morning has warmed me through the week as I’ve looked through the college windows at the Indian summer outside.