As I write this at nine in the morning light snow is falling and the wind is blowing it down the road, but there is blue sky and I am snug and warm; thank heaven for central heating. I have high hopes for sunshine later (thanks for the hopes from Carol on Breakfast television). According to her this is only a short 'cold snap' and things should warm up a bit by the week end. When I think back to my childhood - no central heating, just one coal fire in the living room. Small fireplaces in the bedrooms but trailing upstairs with sticks and coal meant you had to be pretty ill in bed before you meritted that.
I ventured outside yesterday for the first time since my spell in hospital around my birthday in October. The sun was shining and there was only a light wind blowing so with my trusty Rollator I just had a very short walk along my patio to look if any bulbs were poking their little green heads above ground. By the garage, in a very sheltered position a few of my dwarf daffodils had their green leaves about two inches above ground and in the side strip of garden one solitary orange wallflower (which I have never planted and which appeared from nowhere last year) had just one flower braving the weather. But round on the patio I thought there was nothing to be seen.
I walked (very slowly as I am unsteady on my feet) along the side of the raised garden and there (no crocus, no snowdrops yet)under an 'umbrella' of bronze-coloured leaves, were the rich, fat, pure white buds of my patch of Christmas Roses (Helleborus Niger)- they never let me down. Give them a week of sunshine and they will push their bronze protectors out of the way and show themselves to the public.
I walked slowly and unsteadily back into the house, proud of the fact that I had made my first venture forth. There wont be any more for the time being now that everywhere is frozen and icy but it was a start.
Deep blue sky now and the snow has stopped but lots of puffy white clouds - pretty but suggest there could be more snow to come.
Derek tells me that Ronald Blythe - the writer who has so often given me inspiration for my posts and who had such a tremendous knowledge of the countryside and of writers and poets who themselves wrote about the countryside- has died. He read it in his daily Telegraph. I rather think he would have been 100 years old. I shall miss the fact that he is no longer at Bottongoms Farm. His books have given me - and thousands of others - much pleasure over the years. Rest in peace Ronald.
I just wish to add this - I hope it doesn't upset anyone: I have known for many years that Ronald Blythe was gay but as far as I am concerned it has no bearing on anything to do with him. I have many gay friends and also a transgender relation but I also have many heterosexual frien ds and relations but I don't deem it necessary to point this out. I feel deeply that it is only when we can talk about people without bringing this up that we shall have made real progress. Please don't take offence at my saying this - it is just that it is a subject close to my heart.