Reasons to be Cheerful Despite the Weather's Best Efforts
Slowly, we are edging towards spring
Be honest with me, over the last week, how many conversations have you had that have mentioned the words ‘grey’ and ‘miserable’? I feel I’ve said them so often you may as well attach a small speaker to me with a cord coming out my back. Give it a pull and I’ll churn out one of my catchphrases - ‘wet again’, ‘sick of this mud’ and ‘I cannot wait till spring’ in constant rotation.
We’re reaching that point where it’s becoming a little testing. The rain - persistent. The mud - pervasive. The mood - ‘put the kettle on’.
Don’t get me wrong, at the start of winter, it’s all quite novel. There’s undoubtedly a charm to settling in on rainy afternoons, with the wet stuff pitter-pattering on the roof and the wood burner diligently glowing. There is a romance to just hunkering down - nothing much else to do other than listen to Tilly snore by the fire and to flick through the continuous conveyor belt of books that Joe wants reading (current favourite is the collection of vintage Babar books foraged from the local Oxfam).
By this point in the year, though, I start to feel a little less sentimental about it all and much more like I’ve become the human embodiment of Shrek - grumbling about in my swampy hollow after trudging down a mud-slushed towpath. The short walk to the car leaves me looking like an extra from War Horse and one of our boat neighbours has taken to commuting in her wellies, carrying her ‘office shoes’ with her until she reaches civilisation. All part of the bucolic idyll that is life on a narrowboat.
I think, honestly, we’ve all reached peak winter. The other day I spotted Riverford sharing a recipe for ‘savoury porridge’. (Why?!) And I don’t know about you, but most of the posts I’m seeing on my Instagram are photos of last year’s spring with the caption ‘the UK in 2 months’ time’.
Flicking through a few photos from last May, I do find it quite inspiring how the tide of froth and frivolity is so near now. Despite the sludge, slowly life is starting to stir. This morning’s sunrise was stunning, a salmon pink sky matched with a raucous dawn chorus - the starlings on lead vocals from the beech trees opposite our home.
On a rare blue sky day last week, the swans that live on this stretch were getting a little frisky, heads dipping into the canal then rising up, thrusting their long necks into the air, each mirroring the other’s actions. Each night the tawny owls are articulating their anticipation of the new season with loud hooowhoooos across the valley.
And thus the snowdrop, like the bow
That spans the cloudy sky,
Becomes a symbol whence we know
That brighter days are nigh
- from The Origin of the Snowdrop by George Wilson
I suppose really I’m guilty of expecting winter to end and for spring to swoop in with an almighty flourish. What really happens is the grip loosens, one fresh new shoot at a time. There are a few signs the season is beginning to turn.
And so, rather than waiting to be rescued by the weather, I thought I’d take a few minutes to note a handful of things that have just brought some simple moments of joy over the last few weeks. They’re quiet and modest, but a gentle rebellion to the dreary weather… and keeping us from going full ogre in the swamp!
These are my reasons to be cheerful. I’d love to keep this going and to hear yours - no matter how big or small. I’ll keep the comments open for all to chip in!
Noticing the lighter evenings - Admittedly it’s not by much, but the daylight is lingering a little longer in the sky. Sunset at the moment just before five. By the end of this month it’ll be twenty to six and by the end of March the clocks change and sunset shifts to twenty to eight. How I’ve missed long evenings.
Stewed Pears - We recently had a stay at The Bull in Totnes - an organic pub run by Geetie Singh-Watson. For breakfast, we had the most delicious bowl of porridge, topped with pears stewed in ginger. Absolutely divine! Pear season is drawing to a close so as a final nod I’d recommend giving it a try. Peel and chop pears, simmer with the juice and zest of an orange, some julienned ginger, and a little cinnamon for around 20 minutes. Spoon over porridge with toasted hazelnuts. Rhubarb will work in place of the pears but benefits from a little sweetness — a drizzle of honey does the trick.
Citrus season is in full swing - You’ll know from last week’s post how much of a miracle I think it is that oranges come into season during the greyest month. Our fruit box has been brimming with blood oranges recently. Totally delicious and perfect in a salad with some bitter leaves.
Planning the allotment - It may feel a little premature, but February is for prep! The beds have had a good mulch lobbed on top and we’re throwing around ideas for what we’d like to grow this year. I’ll be sowing broad beans next week too.
Snowdrops - Mentioned before, but aren’t they just lovely? Quietly defiant.
Daffodils - They’ve been especially early this year. On the lane there are a few bunches blooming already. I couldn’t resist picking up a bunch in the farm shop. A real pop of colour and sign of spring.
Reading Winnie the Pooh - We picked up an old copy of ‘The World of Pooh’ in a charity shop around a year ago. It’s a beautifully bound book with simple line-drawn illustrations. A.A. Milne’s writing is so wonderfully witty. Each evening we settle down and do our best impression of Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and Eeyore much to Joe’s bemusement.
Spring Spruce Up - After a winter of going to seed (mop top hair acting as built-in hat), I finally got to the barbers for a fresh do. The kids call it a ‘glow up’, apparently.
Imagining Spring - I like noticing how everything is so grey and flat…and then remembering that it's only a few months until the explosion of life in April and May. Ah, May.
Learning Something New - We mentioned a few weeks back that we’re looking to go a little more analogue this year. I’ve been wanting to learn to shoot on a film camera for a while. I grew up in the 90s and have a nostalgic warmth for taking a roll of film to the chemist to get it developed. I’ve bought an old Canon camera and a roll of film, and I’m looking forward to learning more about photography.
Crosswords - We’ve taken to getting a paper for the weekend. Most of it remains unread, however, the crosswords are gallantly attempted. ‘The i’ has a jumbo one for Saturday and Sunday. It also has a wordsearch for kids which is a useful confidence boost when stumped by the crossword clues.
Going to bed early / Consciously switching off - We’re quite bad for staying up late. We’re classic ‘oh one more episode’ people. The last few weeks we’ve consciously switched off before bedtime and got ourselves into a routine. I’m reading to help switch off and the earlier nights really have an impact on our mood the next day! Is this getting old?
Purple Sprouting - Always brings me joy, but finding PSB in the farm shop was a real sign that spring is on the way. I absolutely love it with eggs for breakfast or scattered over some labneh with hazelnuts and a chilli brown butter dressing for tea.
Skeins of Geese - There’s flooding all around us at the moment, fortunately only on the flood plains. It’s always so impressive seeing how quickly it swells. With it has come a whole host of geese, and they’re lovely to watch flying in their trademark V formation. You hear them before you see them, quite cumbersome in the sky. They must be quite relieved on landing.
Winter Olympics - What a joy these are! I prefer the winter games to their summer counterparts. I can’t help but watch and wonder how on earth these athletes decided on these events. Surely no one sane has looked at a ski jump or the skeleton and thought... I’ll have a go.
Right, your turn—what’s been keeping you cheerful? I’d genuinely love to know what’s on your list.
Sorting cupboards and doing a ‘life laundry’ - clearing space. Cleaning the spaces left behind!
All of the above. I'm retired from paid work, but I too used to keep my office shoes in the car and changed out of my wellies to go to work.
Here, the primroses were first, along with hazel catkins looking like late christmas tree decorations. Definitely stilporridge and soup weather. We are blessed with weekly vegetable boxes from a local farm, and fruit boxes containing an eclectic range of juicy goodness from home and abroad.