It's another cold day here; one of those days when it is cold and frosty and the sun is at war with the fog to see who will rule the day. We are spending most of these cold days just huddled around the fire but on the occasions when we have to go out it feels like Antarctica out there. When you first step out the door you are struck with how still everything is, sound is muted, and those cries of the sheep in the adjacent paddock sound like disembodied wails rather than new lambs looking for their mothers. The smoke from the fireplace hangs in the air like a spectre, swirling around you in defiance rather than drifting away while giving you the impression you are walking through a dream. The ground is crunchy underfoot and the cold penetrates the soles of your feet which makes you move faster to complete your task rather than admire the scene which looks as if it has been dusted with sugar. Pretty as it is, warmth is more inviting making our quest for firewood more urgent.
It sounds a bit dire, and perhaps it is. We are all ill with the flu, though, thankfully we're over the rough patch that kept us all down under the covers. Any task was a group effort taking much longer than average. Christmas came and went and we were more interested in finding wood than opening gifts. The fridge is still overstocked with all the food we bought to make the holidays festive, food that made us blanch to even think about just a few days ago. Soup and tea were on the menu every day and how grateful we were to have it.
At the moment we are up and about, albeit slowly. Every little job done needs a short rest afterwards. I've never felt so wrung out in my life as I have felt these past two weeks. Now my mind drifts to letters and I want to write, but still I go slowly. My pen can't keep up with my thoughts and I tire easily just trying to get words on my paper. Typing this has taken more time that I'll admit to though it feels good to be writing. It's cold in this room but it is enjoyable to be quiet with myself and my thoughts for a short time rather than in cramped comfort in front of the fire watching old movies. It's a nice respite even though my fingers and toes are stiff with the cold. Our drafty old building site of a house is pretty but not very inviting on these frosty days. My ancient old desk top computer means I have to brave the cold of the study to type but I'll enjoy the warmth of the hearth even more when I return to the sitting room.
For now I will leave you will all good wishes for the New Year. I'm writing letters slowly, but hope to answer all in good time.