Spring 2006

Rain at last; that sweet veil of soft weather glides sideways past my window and enfolds the valley. The wind has suddenly swung round to the welcome, familiar south west, so much kinder than the swingeing north easterly we’ve suffered for months. It brings with it the soft, salty, earthy smell of spring… I had forgotten how much I love it.  Suddenly the daffodils, in limbo for so long, glow in the dampness, drinking in the welcome wetness softly landing on their upturned petals. Raindrops hang like skeins of tiny pearls on the roses by the back door. At last, at last the air is damp, the earth turns dark chocolate again and the birds shout out for joy.

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"Sal, she’s gone, you don’t have to ring the vet." A rush of grief and relief flooded through me. I knew it was inevitable. I had hoped so much she wouldn’t need help to leave. How could I have doubted her, such a wise, self contained, private old donkey; she knew her time was up. The change in her was so subtle just two days before she died. I was planning to ring Briony and say “come and see old Sweep, I think it’s time for her to go” but she just appeared on Wednesday evening. She took one look at the little figure in the stable and said goodbye, her eyes brimming with tears.

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February 2006….

No
grass, no rain, just cold grey days, even the snowdrops are reluctant
to show their little green petticoats. As I look back to this time last
year I find talk of camellias, daffodils and singing crocus; no sign of
any of them showing their face this cold, dark February. In fact as I
look out beyond my desk the cloud seems to be sitting over the whole
valley, just topping the trees with a thin grey veil. And still we wait
for rain.

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Flanders and Swan’s wonderful old “Song of the Weather” was more direct! I try not to agree but these January days are so short, so grey, so cold. Well, no, not really so cold I suppose, this is South Devon! But sharp, dark and sad, frosty, wet, muddy, slow and oh, so heavy. It all seems such hard work at this time of year. We climb out of bed and struggle reluctantly out of the house, tramping up to the yard in the dark and dreaming of sunshine, lambs, fresh grass and spring.  Not long to dream now, snowdrops are beginning to take hold, but it is much colder than usual this year which means so much more feeding up both morning and evening.

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I am amazed, as I run through my large collection of old cookery books,
how our eating habits have changed over the years. The menus of thirty,
forty, fifty years ago sound so heavy now; even during those frugal
years of rationing in the 1940’s and 50’s and daunting childhood
memories of school food! All this before the food revolution of the
Sixties and the indelible mark of Elizabeth David on our diet.

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And round we go again, 2006! Christmas and New Year have drifted by: parties over, dear family and wonderful friends dispersed, presents received, decorations down, tree dismantled, cards carefully recorded, letters written, warm love-feeling left in my heart. So much food, nice wine! Exhausted!!  Make a plan for 2006, new resolutions, throw them out, new plans, throw them out, maybe, maybe not. Try again and, oh, that delicious feeling of wonderfully reassuring normal, ordinary, mundane–ness!

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