Rain and Light, a Wet Weekend in January

The weekend has been a rain sandwich. Friday was glorious; bright blue skies and sunshine flooding the flat. It was warm on the street, though not exactly bikini weather, until the sun went down and the temperatures tumbled. Tomorrow is forecast to be a rerun. But the rain gods have held sway for most of Saturday and Sunday.

I was working yesterday, inside, so in the dry, but someone had definitely decided to economise on the heating. I was glad of my long sleeved thermal vest under my presentable work clothes. By the time I finished working the rain was having a pause. Good news as I was meeting Celia in a pub prior to taking in our second evening of Lumière London. We had explored installations in Mayfair and the West End on Thursday after attending a lecture at the Royal College of Physicians about William Harvey. Yes we really are that cultured, I haven’t even mentioned last weekend’s poetry evening.

On Thursday I took some photos, they probably aren’t great, I haven’t looked at them yet. But I didn’t photograph our favourite installation, seesaws in South Molton Street. They were soooo relaxing. I don’t know about Celia but I had to stop myself from entering a zen like trance. I could have seesawed for hours. We ceded our places to a young couple and walked about until the lights were turned off, impressed by some installations, underwhelmed by others. Maybe we are picky. Continue reading

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S is for Snow

We’re late. Take off should have been thirty minutes ago. I lift my head from the magazine in my lap and see snow falling, snow I did not know had been forecast. As I watch it becomes heavier, swirling little white dervishes covering the grass and the stationary planes.

Across the aisle there is no visibility from the starboard window. In minutes the snow has covered it as effectively as a shutter. Continue reading

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

I think I've redeemed myself with WestieBoy. After taking him for a walk shortly after arriving on Tuesday I went awol in Belfast for the next two days, but today the snow meant our other plans were put on hold so it was a two walk day.

The worst of the weather was elsewhere, but we have a nice dusting that feels seasonal and right.

 

I was wrapped up in warm clothes from London and the one of the hats Cousin has knitted.The first walk was the best. We only met two vehicles. We saw sheep in the fields and birds in the trees and hedgerows but no other living creatures.

The sky turned from white to blue and then grey again. More snow fell, and the wind made it dance in the air around us. Slieve Gallion was all but invisible, and this tree stood alone in a blue white fieldpp.

WestieBoy found plenty to sniff at but tugged and even whined when I wanted to stop and take pictures.

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Spring Unsprung

It’s pelting down. There has been lightning and almost simultaneous thunder. MasterB is hiding under a chair. We are experiencing all the seasons at the moment.

Spring is unsprung.

Yesterday it snowed.

It wasn’t for long and it didn’t settle, but still it made me remember 1979 when Margaret Thatcher was elected. I came home from Italy via France to vote against her. The first time I was able to vote in a national election. My vote was symbolic. She got in. But I have always felt the snow was an omen. It’s going to take a long time for this country to recover from Thatcherism, and the road is not linear.
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Cold Cats

There was a sprinkling of snow this morning. Maybe it was forecast, I don’t know. It soon vanished and today has been a bit warmer thank goodness. Not exactly balmy, so don’t imagine us out and about in summer frocks, fanning ourselves to keep cool. It’s still multiple layer weather, and when I head out again to work in a few minutes I shall swap what I am wearing for clothes with greater insulation.

Last night I was up and down the stairs repeatedly as MasterB tried to decide whether he wanted to go out or not. On the whole he thought not. I believe his decision was complicated by the need to pee, as once he had achieved that objective in the litter tray, he seemed much calmer about the whole business.

Pink Nose

Pink Nose

He had had a trying afternoon. I had come home shortly after lunchtime and Cookie was there to greet me, even hoisting her tail into the upright position. Her humans must have been out. I was her passport to warmth and a snack. She wanted to settle and sleep. Her presence was like a wasp sting to MasterB. He walked backwards and forwards; played rough games with a feathered toy and the rug; meowed at me in demanding tones.
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