A home full of love

Christmas Eve is undoubtedly my favourite day of the year.  There's a magic about the date that just hasn't faded through the years of my life - it's a wonderful mix of childhood memories, an intense feeling of homeliness, and anticipation of the day to follow.  And of course now we have William in our lives, Christmas will take on even more meaning this year, and in the years to come.  Home is the only place I really want to be, today and through the whole Christmas season - the familiar decorations, the soft furnishings, the smells from the kitchen - it's all part of my Christmas experience.  Andy Williams sang a song in his 1966 Christmas Show which encapsulates my feelings of being at home over Christmas.  The lyrics go: 

You can tell when you open the door
You can tell if there's love in a home
Every table and chair seem to smile
Do come in, come and stay for a while

You almost feel you've been there once before
By the shine and the glow of the room
And the clock seems to chime, come again anytime
You'll be welcome wherever you roam
You can tell when there's love in a home.

And this is how I feel about my home, especially as we bring up our own little boy, for I am mindful that the way we celebrate Christmas in the coming years will be the basis of his own memories, long into adulthood.  It's all about home, and it's all about family, so today I will light candles; I will watch my favourite Christmas film, Holiday Inn; I will lay out a tasty buffet for our dinner; we will watch The Snowman together; and I will read A visit from St Nicholas to William, for the very first time.  Family will be firmly in my thoughts, especially Mum, who has to spend this Christmas in hospital, but will nonetheless be with us all day long. 

However you best enjoy celebrating Christmas, I would like to wish every reader of this blog a peaceful, blessed, very Merry Christmas.

Blogvent Day XXIV - If Christmas is about anything, it's about family

Blogvent Day XXIII - Christmas food preparation

Blogvent Day XXII - 'my first Christmas selfie'

Blogvent Day XI - discovering a new Christmas film

Blogvent Day XX - making a Christmas pan bagnat

Blogvent Day XIX - finding the best Christmas lights

Blogvent Day XVIII - A beer with the Strictly final

Blogvent Day XVII - My favourite Christmas candle

Blogvent Day XVI - Christmas in Exeter

Blogvent Day XV - spending time with friends

Blogvent Day XIV - The meaning of Christmas

Blogvent Day XIII - St Marychurch snowman competition

Blogvent Day XII - Lizzie's been busy in the kitchen

Blogvent Day XI - Schnitzel plays dress-up

Blogvent Day X - comfy pyjamas

Blogvent Day IX - Santa Claus is coming to town

Blogvent Day VIII - visiting donkeys

Blogvent Day VII - Snuggling down with a good winter book

Blogvent Day VI - Christmas at Powderham Castle

Blogvent Day V - They've arrived!

Blogvent Day IV - A trip to Malmesbury Abbey

Blogvent Day III - Father Christmas and William meet for the first time

Blogvent Day II - work Christmas party

Blogvent Day I - Newton Abbot Victorian Evening

Autumn, birthdays, Weymouth, and William

William recently turned six months old, and although in some ways it doesn't seem like he's been here for five minutes, in another way it feels as though he's been knocking around our lives forever.  Everybody says that having a baby changes your life, and they're right - everything is somehow different now.  Yes there's the ongoing tiredness and endless early mornings, nappy changes are becoming more-and-more frequent, and quiet moments are snatched at, at the tail-end of days.  But the house is more homey since William came along, blankets feel softer, cooking smells richer, and cuddles are warmer.  I've undergone subtle changes too; if William has had an impact on my personality so far, it's that I am a little more emotional, a lot more patient, and have a heightened enjoyment of the little things.

Talking of enjoying the little things, we took a lovely trip up the coast to Weymouth this week.  There's nothing quite like an out-of-season seaside town to put you in touch with the autumn - the Esplanade was peaceful, the cafes and restaurants quiet, the beach reserved for local dog walkers, and the pavilion (where we stopped for a good hot chocolate, and where the man behind the counter gave Schnitzel a biscuit) warm and welcoming.  It has been years - three decades actually - since I last set foot in Weymouth, but the childhood memories came flooding back as we looked across the sandy beach and enjoyed a promenade along the bright-but-breezy seafront.  I love Dorset in general, and it's a county we've found ourselves visiting with increased frequency over these last couple of years, so I'm hopeful that at some point, Weymouth may provide lifelong memories for William, as it has for me.

Moving through autumn always brings with it the seasonal reflections, but this year I feel more settled within myself, and as I prepare to climb another step on the birthday ladder, I'm feeling more together and in control than I have felt for many years.  Our home is full of love, we are financially secure, everything is relatively peaceful in my relationships, and I feel lucky and grateful.  I know my direction now, I've embraced the maturity that comes with no longer being "young", and I feel that - finally - I've found a way onto the first page of a new chapter, after a long period of rocky soul searching.  And it's this inner peace that will pave the way to a wonderful festive season - William's first Christmas - which I hope will be a joyous and memorable one.

When in Avebury...

2005

2021

A beautiful walk around the Bolderwood Deer Sanctuary

We recently had a few days away in the beautiful New Forest, which has become a favourite place of ours in the last few years.  I love the pace of the forest, which I find to be a capsule of peace and tranquillity in amongst the hubbub of fast-paced modernity.  Here, it feels like things change slowly, if at all, and when I'm in the forest, I get the sense that I'm living the same experience that people have enjoyed for hundreds of years.  There are many walks throughout the forest, of which we've done a few in previous visits.  On this occasion, following a brief stop in Ringwood, we took the slow lanes to the Bolderwood Deer Sanctuary where, on a drizzly day, the forest is exhibiting its first displays of Autumn.

Our walk begins with the Canadian Memorial, a wooden roadside cross set up to remember the Canadian forces who were present in the New Forest on the lead-up to D-Day. The site was chosen because it marks the spot where Canadians frequently gathered for church services.  It's a lonely place, and the juxtaposition of the peaceful forest and the recollection of the Normandy beaches is stark and reflective.  It feels a world away from the horror of war, and yet many Canadians who enjoyed the simple quietude of the forest in 1944, would very shortly lose their lives in the defence of liberty.  It's worth a moment to pause and consider this.

A gravel trackway takes us away from the memorial, across heathland and down into the depths of the treescape.  Sensing the downturn in the weather, the local ponies begin taking shelter in the bracken, and we pass a number of them nestled in the ferns.  Further down the track, signs indicate that we're entering the deer sanctuary, and it isn't long before we spot a couple in the nearby field.  As far as I can work out, the deer here are wild, but the herd is fed daily by the local New Forest keeper between April and September, meaning that they tend to remain fairly local at this time of year. The type of deer here are wild fallow deer, evidenced by their typical spotted coat, and were of course a joy to see.

Beyond the deer sanctuary, we have a good walk in the trees, eventually making our way to an enormous yew tree, which I just have to take a look at.  I'm fascinated by yew trees, mostly because their ancientness makes me marvel at what they have witnessed in the passage of time.  It's amazing to think that the tree I'm looking at could well have been standing when William the Conqueror evicted the peasants to create this forest, nearly 1,000 years ago.  In fact, it could be even older than that - I once read of a yew tree in the grounds of the churchyard at the Hampshire village of Lockerley, which was growing at the time of Christ.  I just love that thought.

Not too far from this tree lies the Radnor Stone, an ornately carved stone dedicated to the late Earl of Radnor, Forestry Commissioner from 1942-63, and Verderer of the New Forest from 1964-66.  One may instantly draw comparisons to the Rufus Stone, and I wonder whether that was the inspiration for this modern memorial.  I suppose if I was a Verderer and a life-long forest man, the location would be perfect for my memorial - untouched by the modern world, sitting quietly amongst the trees, no doubt visited more frequently by deer and ponies than by any human, a lovely place in which to be remembered.

Our walk from here takes us past the north side of the deer sanctuary, and back to the car.  The weather has further deteriorated, but it's been a lovely walk, punctuated by Schnitzel meeting a similar-sized sausage dog in the car park.  William is full of fresh air and fast asleep, so for us it's a slow and scenic drive back through the reaches of the forest to our hotel, where a comfy and cosy bar awaits.

Seen around the New Forest

Dog in a million

Our beautiful little dachshund celebrated her first birthday today, and we made sure to pull out all the stops for the occasion.  Bunting, presents, cupcakes, a visit from her labrador bestie, and a birthday tea of hotdogs (mostly for us) heralded the transition of Schnitzel from puppy to full dog.  Make no mistake, she was one excited pooch!

I'm going to be soppy for a moment.  When we finally decided to get Schnitzel, I I knew I'd love her - but I didn't realise quite how much I'd love her.  I thought she'd be more for Lizzie, but since she arrived in our life last November, Schnitz has wormed her way firmly into my heart, and is now lodged there for good.  I adore this little sausage dog, I can't actually imagine not having her around in my world.  She's the ultimate pick-me-up, the happy welcome home when you've had a bad day, the constant reminder that somebody loves you, especially during times of great difficulty.  Schnitzel's affection is infectious and unconditional - I know people often say these things about their dogs, but until I experienced it first-hand, I never truly understood this.  She's a little wonder, and one of the shining stars in my life.

Schnitzel, you're my dog in a million, and we both love having you in our lives.  Never change, keep being ridiculous, hilarious, uber-loving and generally pooch perfect, and even though you cannot read this blog, please always know how much we love you.  Happy first birthday, sausage wonder.

Blogging Sunday

 I've become a convert to the joys of Sunday.  OK, I know that any day off work should be considered joyous, but I've always questioned the point of Sunday a little bit, especially compared to the exuberance of Saturday, the king of days.  But recently, I've changed my mindset, and have established a new way of doing Sunday, discovering along the way just what a wonderful day of the week it is.

The morning begins with a leisurely linger at the breakfast bar, reading the newspaper, and enjoying freshly baked breakfast pastries, along with a glass of chilled cranberry juice.  I'm making sure that I start every Sunday in this manner; it's a lovely way to wake up.

After the long wake-up, we head out into the woods for a dog walk.  Schnitzel doesn't exactly require extensive walks, but she does need some exercise, and our local woods is the perfect place to do it.  I love the woods, and I love watching the woods change through the seasons. Today it's very leafy, but in a few short weeks the Autumn will take hold, the leaves will fall, and the character of the woods will become darker and more mysterious.

Back home, and after a light lunch, we do a bit of play with William.  He's already growing up fast, it's difficult to understand where the weeks are flying by.  Sundays are the perfect day to spend some quality time together.  You can see him trying to comprehend his surroundings more, his attempts to raise his hand if you wave at him, and the way he tries to focus on the things before his eyes - be them a picture book, the TV, or the fish tank.

As the day moves ever onwards, it's time to think about dinner.  One of the things I love most about the weekends is the increased time you can devote to cooking.  Just yesterday I made a lovely loaf of granary bread, but today's specialty is a tasty roasting dish - diced potatoes, onions, chorizo, sweetcorn and feta drizzled in olive oil, sprinkled with paprika, and left to roast away for an hour.  When it comes out the oven, I throw on some soured cream, then serve up with tortilla wraps and a colourful side salad.  Delicious!

The day ends, and climbing into bed, I can look back and say that I've had a good one.  The rain rattles down outside (we can hear it too, because in the summer months we tend to leave our balcony doors open all night) but indoors all is well - William is asleep in his crib, Schnitzel is dozing on our duvet, and as peace descends, there's a golden chance to delve into a book - which for me, right now, is this beautiful edition of Death on the Nile.

Sundays may have just become my favourite day of the week - a perfect antidote against the stress of the modern world, and a day to enjoy being a family together.  I could certainly get used to this being one seventh of my life!