Mud, mud glorious mud.....

The sun is shining this morning for the first time for weeks. I`m just back from my early walk with Wiggins, knee deep in mud. Most of the snow has gone, there is just the pathetic remains of a dirty old snowman in the middle of the village green. But three nights ago I was stranded in a blizzard for a couple of hours driving from Brighton to Ditchling. I had none of the things with me that you are supposed to have:spade, torch etc but survived with Wiggins and Radio 4 for company.
The bungalow I looked at last week is a distinct possibility, but I dread the whole process of moving. It is so hazardous. I was lucky when I sold my house in Winchester as my lovely neighbour bought it from me without any pesky agents.
I went to see the film Les Miserables. A mistake. I never like musicals and this one lasted over two and a half hours without a break. The worst thing was close- ups of singers showing their tonsils, teeth and huge pink wet tongues.   There were some incredible scenes which quite took your breath away but it went on too long and it was very sentimental. In fact I find that most things last too long but perhaps that is just a symptom of old age.
I have started re reading George Orwell, brilliant writing. There`s lots of them so it will take me some time. I am just in the middle of 
`Coming Up for Air` .

Museum tales

Just back from a frosty walk with Wiggins.    Ditchling looked pink and beautiful with the sun just coming up over the Beacon. There is a definite improvement in my walking, I no longer look like the old woman on the road signs that say Danger Elderly People. I spoke to a ninety three year old this morning with a fifteen year old dog and she has quite a spring in her step too
I started the Museum Tales writing course yesterday: six weeks every Tuesday we are let loose in the wonderful Brighton Museum to write about the exhibits. They are a lively group and I think I am going to enjoy it.  The only problem is leaving Wiggins who looks at me so piteously when I leave him, but I must learn to be tough.  Fortunately the U3A Reading Aloud group in the Library  that I go to every week, allow him in and the Librarians give him doggy treats.
I saw a sad Korean film at Ditchling Film club called Poetry, about a woman with Alzheimers and a ne`er do well grandson. It has stayed with me for days as good films do but it was disturbing.  . I am going to the panto in Burgess Hill tomorrow which will be an antidote.
I have now abandoned the downstairs loo building project as it seems to involve complicated planning permission etc and I just can`t handle it so perhaps I will have to start thinking about moving again and try to cope with my deep fear of house agents, Oh dear. I am going to look at a bungalow tomorrow.......

raining hats and dogs (and boots and macs)

The Christmas Day swimmers (daughter J and three grand daughters) were not able to plunge into the sea this year due to the dire weather, the Council banned it and closed the beach. Such a disappointment.  The day began for me with the annual hearty Quaker breakfast at the Meeting House, followed by Meeting. A good start to the day.
I talked to a Polish woman who told me that at home everyone has a carp for the Christmas meal which is cooked and served in a jelly. Some families get the fish in good time and keep it in the bath, alive..I enjoyed our nut roast even more after hearing that.
I spend a lot of time consumed by guilt at this time of the year: I should have written more cards, given nicer presents and wrapped them up properly, asked more people round, made more mince pies, the scope for feelings of unworthiness is endlesss. Apart from all that, I had a blessed and happy time..
Little dog has arrived and is sitting on the sofa beside me as I write this.  I will have to brave the wind and rain twice a day to take him for walkies, but he is very sweet and lovable.  He is to be renamed Bradley Wiggins (my cycling hero) or Wiggy for short.