September: The last days of summer

It's been a while since I posted, like many of us I've found the constant pandemic news rather tiring, an underlying ever present anxiety bubbling just below the surface, a kind of weight, some days I've felt like my old gas cooker, a bit difficult to spark up. My initial euphoria at putting the brake on a fast paced modern life has evaporated a little. I feel like my wings have been clipped and I long for the spontaneity of days out and visiting friends and family without fearing that I may infect them. Simply to put my arms around my mum and dad for a hug without feeling guilty, I really feel for those that have struggled since the early days of lockdown. Perhaps it's because these are the last days of summer, I can feel autumn creeping in and I always feel anxious at the return of darker days. The days are shortening and mornings are cold, a heavy dew carpets the lawn and clings to the spiderwebs stretched across the garden. All the talk is of a second wave as temperatures drop and force us indoors and it looks like we'll be enduring this pandemic for a while.

Despite these strange times July and August have been busy. I've dusted off my sewing machine, rummaged through my stash of fabric and made a dress, a summery top, a sweatshirt and a pair of trousers for my mum, along with a whole pile of re-usable face masks. I've finally sewn together the denim patchwork I started last year (only the backing left to do). Ten pairs of old jeans re-purposed into something functional and useful. The different indigo shades reflecting wear and tear are strangely beautiful, a visual memory of us and our travels. Have a look at the stunning quilts made by Folk Fibers for the source of my inspiration.

The seeds planted in the early days of lockdown have provided a bounty of fresh vegetables despite the best efforts of the large orange slugs marauding the garden. Flowers are everywhere too and the garden hums with bees. Making my own yoghurt has become a weekly ritual and I've also experimented with other ferments, variations of kombucha and kimchi. I love the alchemy of it all, strangely bubbling liquids sitting on the shelf in the larder, producing some seriously tasty food.

In the brief window of the easing down of the pandemic restrictions the lure of the sea proved too much to resist. A few days on the beach facing the North Sea, an escape, a chance to taste the salty air and watch the sun rise over sea. Fish and chips eaten with salty fingers, mugs of strong coffee watching the tide roll in, I can never tire of the Norfolk coast, sheer bliss.

Back home and work has begun on this old house. It's dusty and chaotic and sometimes feels completely overwhelming but I'm learning all the time and that's a good thing. It's a form of creation after all, its just the initial destruction I dislike (and the fear I may be out of my depth). Underneath the layers of paint and wall paper, I've found the original colours, painted carefully in the 1920s, a pale blue and cream. 

But enough of my waffling, back to scraping these walls and getting this finished so that when freedom returns, new adventures can start.