New Year
Sheltering fireside, a glass (one of several) of Portuguese red soothing my soul, reflecting on the first full week (and a bit) of the new year, Storm Goretti rages the other side of the window. Like many a named storm its bark turns out to be worse than its bite in this corner of England and the forecast weather bomb turns out to be no worse than a damp and windy wintery evening. Time to pour another glass and throw another log on the fire. January has reminded us recently of real winter, surprising us with ice and snow, a frosty hint of the season’s bite just as we had almost forgotten cold weather ever existed. December mornings passed mildly, filled with unseasonal birdsong and postmen in shorts. It’s a relief to feel the real turn of the seasons, dig out the woolly sweaters and embrace the cold. January has much to offer. The The festive season is thankfully over; this year was especially traumatic with illness rife amongst the more vulnerable members of the family. In-between hos...
