R&R

My husband is a true diamond. Just when we were at a low ebb, worn out with the daily grind, laid low with coughs and colds, he pulled the most wonderful and most needed surprise out of the bag for my birthday last week.

A few years ago when it was just us two in the first flush of romance, we spent a weekend in the beautiful and charming Marcher town of Ludlow. It was bliss; beautiful food, charming buildings, a dramatic castle and treasure trove shops to explore. Since that first romantic weekend we've returned a few times on day trips and its one of those very special places that stays in your heart.

Woody is a quiet romantic, not for him regular bunches of flowers, candle-lit dinners or declarations of love. Instead he surprises me every now and again with a really thoughtful gesture or a well considered plan, and trips away to special places are his forte.

For my 30th we went (with baby in tow), for a long weekend in Carcassone in the South of France and stayed in a little town house right beneath the city walls. Our honeymoon was inspired by an idea of his to visit the islands of Britain, so we spent an amazing (if pretty foggy) week on the Shetland Isles.

But you know what it's like with little ones, trips have been a luxury we can't really afford and we've never felt comfortable being away from our little chaps really. Until this weekend. My darling Woody had organised for the adored grandparents to come and stay (just for one night which felt ok), so we tootled down to Shropshire on a dreary November day that showed off the amazing colours of autumn so beautifully.

We stayed in this wonderful pub, where we'd had a delicious meal on our fist visit, and bless him he remembered. In our 24 hours away we spent a pretty good portion of it just sitting chatting, with coffee, newspapers, magazines (Country Living December - bliss!) and more coffee. This was what I enjoyed the very most, getting the chance to laugh and chatter with my smashing chap, my very best friend.

I got to indulge my magpie hunting urges too and visited this lovely place and blew my birthday money in one shot, on a beautiful blue vintage enamel jug and a rosy remnant of Colefax and Fowler fabric which may even have come from the section stocked by Louise Loves ,who's blog and website I love.

It was a short but very, very sweet trip and a birthday I shall remember and treasure for an awfully long time. What a treasure my Woody is. xxx

P.S. I just wanted to say thank you for all the gorgeous comments on my last post about my thrifty kitchen makeover. I feel very flattered and I'm just glad you can't see the close-up finish! It's still a work in progress but hopefully it'll be ready for Christmas.

For those who asked tile paint is pretty good, not as good as new tiles but they were definitely out of my budget so painting them was a good second best. The key is to apply thin layers and I found using a roller much easier than the brush I'd used last time. Make sure it's for gloss paint though or you get hairs and fibres sticking. Most of my tiles were white so repainting them ivory only took a couple of quick coats, but the navy border took a couple more - dries quickly though. Thanks so much!

Kitchen Corner

Slowly, slowly the dreadful kitchen is turning into one of my favourite places to be at home.

The walls have gone from gaudy, canary yellow to soft, sagey green. The cupboards are now cream with wooden handles instead of gold with a typical '80s grey trim. The stalwart of the thrify makeover (yes tile paint!) has turned the yucky navy & white tiles to calming ivory.

The new floor has transformed the room the most, goodbye grim navy lino and hello to a bargain remnant. Not bad for me, half an hour's grappling and Grandma Alice's old butter knife to help slide it under the cupboards!

My thrifty kitchen revamp came in at a bargain £130, with most of the money going on a new sink and the floor. Still a bit more painting and the new work tops to fit (which were going begging at dad's firm!) but it's almost there.

I've used the curtains that hung in the laundry at our old house to line the glass doors, make a curtain to hide the dishwasher and the mess of recylcing and some old bamboo blinds with a vintage trim will be going up at the windows. It'll do us for a few years and I'm really looking forward to rustling up lunch for our friends who are coming to stay this weekend in our cosy new kitchen.

The view from our kitchen window was wonderful this week.

Frost sparkeld across the garden and the view has really opened out across the hills as the leaves fall.

The boys and I enjoyed a half-term pyjama day, far too cold to go out for my two laid up with colds. So we turfed out toy boxes, sorted out jumble and snuggled up on the vintage sofa to watch the snow fall and the garden birds flock back to our bird table.

Just perfect.

The Year Has Turned

Edited to add some pictures from our drive to school after last night's lashing of rain. Just my sort of day!

There's something so wonderful about this time of year.

Ordinarily I'm not the type of person who's wild about change (if it was up to me I'd always go back to the same place for our holidays) but every day at the moment there are changes to see and it's so exciting.

Today I noticed everywhere borders of vivid orange against the wet black tarmac on our way to school. Seeing the leaves whirl behind us when we whizzed past in the car was a thrill.

Anticipation is the feeling that describes autumn for me, tinged with a teeny bit of fear, just like when you know a thunderstorm is on the way.

(Not exactly the full Country Living version but our little nature tray is brim full of autumn treasure).
Thankfully the weather is rarely that severe here, so I can look forward to winter and the changes it brings.

It's been mild and calm for a while, I'm ready for a gale now that'll thrash the treetops, roar the clouds down the valley and rattle and whistle around the eaves. Not for days on end of course but I do love a bit of dramatic weather every now and again!

(The view over my neighbours garden and a Magic Apple Tree)

Our garden's throwing a final fling. I'm quite enjoying this bright clash of purple asters and satsuma orange nasturtiums. The view down the garden has changed, speckles of fading birch leaves dot the lawn and woodsmoke curls across us from the house below.

Winter is on the way and we're getting ready to batten down the hatches before it strikes - yippee!

Harvest Home

Life is rushing by and before I really noticed, here we are hurtling into autumn. Today was the school harvest service and it seems we were the only house in the entire village not to realise that harvest isn't about bringing along a portion of your best produce anymore.

Yes we have no bananas, tomatoes, marrows, loaves of bread or anything else you can eat apparently at the harvest service, gifts of cash for a very deserving charity working in Africa are much preferred. Now of course I don't mind this at all but it felt like something was missing, which it was.

No wheat sheaf shaped loaves, no pumpkins and marrows lining the window sills, no shoe boxes brimming with runner beans, giant cooking apples or jars of jam. Someone said that too many out-of-date tins and packets of broken biscuits were being sent in and it was too risky to hand them onto anyone these days. Living in a rural community I can't help feeling it's a shame we no longer physically celebrate having a link with the land.

B trooped in though with a beaming smile and his basket of the half dozen cherry tomatoes I managed to rescue before the blight really took hold, some much beefier toms donated from a friend's allotment, along with prickly cucumbers, courgettes and peppers and a bunch of the traditional Michaelmas daises from our garden. I had a mixture of pride and embarrassment seeing him walk into church as the only child in school with produce to offer (btw he did tell me he'd been told it was fine to take some "Can I take some fruit and vegetables to church next week mummy?" Do you think I'm reading too much Country Living and it's wearing off on him?!)

His basket is sitting proudly on the altar now so I don't suppose it was a big problem but I'm a bit sad that it's the only one.

So as the year turns I'm thinking of making lists of things to make, places to find a smashing little something for someone and building up the anticipation to my most favourite time of the year. Look what I found, a treasure for Christmas by Susan Hill who's rapidly become one of my favourite writers. Just these opening lines are enough to make me want to get out the decorations!

Snow always fell on Christmas Eve,

fat and soft as goose feathers, like a quilt on the ground for weeks of the winter.

I'm fighting the urge to devour it though and I'm going to save this special little book for the weekend before Christmas when I'll light the fire, snuggle up with a steaming mug of something and enjoy. Can't wait.

Furred and Feathered Friends

I love a robin. On Christmas cards or the bird table, they are most definitely my favourite garden bird. All summer a young male has been fluttering about our garden and I've been hoping so much he'd adopt our little patch as his territory and it looks as though the huge amount of cash I've spent on gruesome mealworms and juicy fruity seed has paid off. He's all ruby red now and strutting his stuff on the decking like no-one's business, chasing off the cat and singing his heart out.

Last Christmas I put this lovely, lovely picture of a vintage robin tin in my festive scrapbook and I've been trying to track one down ever since. I've seen a few come and go on ebay for silly amounts of money so I thought I'd have to make do with my lovely picture instead. But on a whim I searched again last week and I'm not sure how it happened but I got one - for £3! You have no idea of ridiculously pleased I am. So the robin in my garden is joined by few more in my kitchen, yippee!

Another little creature has come to stay too. Thanks again to Deb who's fabulous treasure trove This Vintage Life is my favourite place to find the most special and reasonable vintage treasures. I'm perhaps not really what you'd call a dog person, having only ever owned cats, but the look on Stanley's face was just irresistible and he looks at home already (despite my dodgy close-ups).

Autumn in creeping on here in the Moorlands and the last couple of days have been balmy, bathed in a warm, honeyed light that only September brings and is so welcome after the drenching we've been having.

I've been busy cosying up our home against the damp, misty mornings and chilly nights that have arrived. The thick, tapestry curtains are up in the sitting room and all the eiderdowns are draped on beds and sofas, (this is where I hole up under mine in the evenings, "mine and mummy's cosy corner", says B.)

This weekend will see the cheery, blue spotted oilcloth come off the kitchen table to be replaced with faded red linen and the winter cushions on will be back on the settee in the conservatory. Really need to get my bulbs into the new garden border and I've finally made a start on revamping the kitchen. How dreadful is this! Navy and yellow, not my thing at all. And I've never seen another blue sink in my life!

We've lived with it for too long but after the weekend it'll be gone for good. Back soon with some pictures and maybe a crumble or too. Enjoy the sunshine this weekend.

Good things come to those who wait

I'm not very good at being patient and I've been waiting and waiting for a very special treat to arrive. I've poured over the catalogue, grappled with an awkward website, realised I can't buy what I want to online, sent off vouchers instead, realised I'd not sent the right amount, posted off another voucher and waited and waited for the postman to arrive. And on Monday, finally he came with this!

(Not great pictures I'm afraid, I've had to mess about with the enhancement because it's still raining here and the light's vanished.)

How I love my new Cath Kidston handbag, part of my leaving present from my old job and my very kind colleagues. When they presented me with an amazingly generous amount of CK gift vouchers my eyes popped out on stalks; my funds only stretch to key rings from her catalogue and to have a chance to choose just what I fancied was a bit overwhelming to be honest.

But never fear, I pulled myself together and set to work making some very hard decisions. New bedding or pyjamas, yards of fabric for making lovely things or floral china, fancy top or sewing trinkets. Choices, choices. In the end I plumped for a handbag, I've had mine for 4 years and its looking a bit shoddy to say the least and a fancy purse because I'm bored to bits with my old brown, sensible one. And I love them so much.

Just popping out for a sandwich is such a cheery thing to do now with my spotty green purse. I'll be hanging onto my other vouchers for the Christmas range and the New Year sale to cheer up myself up when January leaves me feeling flat. Not all CK designs appeal to me but others I adore and having a bit of floral loveliness everyday is brightening up this very murky start autumn no end. So, thank you, thank you to my lovely old team very, very much.

Songs of Praise

My throat may be sore but my heart is very happy, last week I finally did it and trotted up to our lovely village church to sing the night away. I've gone and joined the choir! It all began on Open Gardens Day in July when, during a very giddy visit up the bell tower with my friend Helen, we got chatting to the impossibly young organist and I ended up asking if I could come along to choir practice.

As a teenager I sang day in, day out in school choirs, the county youth ensemble and even on the odd occasion at university and I really miss it. I'm really old fashioned - can't bear modern musicals - medieval madrigals, anthems and traditional hymns are my sort of thing. There's something about all those voices together that makes me shiver and my heart sing.

Since moving here and reading and re-reading Susan Hill's fantastic book, I've been itching to get more involved in village life and the choir seemed a good starting point for lots of reasons so I went along - and it was great!

It's a big choir, 18 of us last week which is about a dozen more than the choir at the church in the village where I grew up. I've been made really welcome and already invited along to the Christmas dinner and sing-song and a trip to the theatre. The music is fab, a range of psalms, anthems and some proper old favourites like "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind" which is just wonderful to sing. And all in this beautiful, special place, with it's Edward Burne Jones windows and painted ceiling.

Switching off the world and singing this glorious music for an hour on Thursday evenings brings me some much needed peace. Wish me luck for October 5; harvest festival and my first service. I think I'll be at the back!