Walking in the Snow

I looked out of the window this morning, to see more snow: not a lot, more of a sprinkling or dusting than a covering, but it did look pretty, so I went out early, with my camera, and walked down into town., and took this photo of Tamworth Castle perched on its snow-covered mound.

The canal was frozen, and looked more than a little bleak, with no sign of life – last year I watched ducks skidding and skating on the ice, but they ere nowhere to be seen today. 

Not grass, but daffodils!

In MacGregor Park daffodils were pushing their way through the snow, lots and lots of green leaves, still far too small for flowers, but it’s a sure sign that spring is on the way, and it won’t be long until the grass on either side of the path is a carpet of flowers. 

In the swim... geese and ducks on the river.

I walked under the Arches and alongside the river, watching the ducks and the geese on the Anker. The ducks are mallards, but I have no idea about the geese: I looked at photographs I took, and then looked online in a bid to identify them, but I’m really not sure – Canada geese maybe? The Castle Grounds, as ever, were really beautiful, and the Castle was wonderful. I love the Castle, and the way it is always different, depending on the weather, the light, the time of day, the season of the year. Even the colour of the stone it is built from varies. 

The River Anker inTamworth's Castle rounds.

There seemed to be fewer birds around than usual, but a few grey squirrels were out and about, bold and bright-eyed, foraging for food I suppose. As far as plants go, it’s too early for flowers to blooming in the terraced garden, but there are so many trees and shrubs with interesting leaves, trunks and stems that the lack of other colour really doesn’t matter.

Warrior in the snow... he's made from those tiny
flowers used for floral clocks, and is either Saxon or
Viking - I can never remember which!

Walking back through the town centre to the bus stop (it’s uphill on the way home, and I was cold) I treated myself to a bag of toffee bon-bons, or snowballs as I’ve always called them, which seemed considerably smaller than they used to be.

ALL BUTTONED UP

I HAD a glimpse of the past yesterday when I went to the doctor. While waiting for my prescription, I limped into the supermarket to buy milk and bread, when a lady said hallo and explained she recognised me from her days volunteering in the Oxfam shop. I used to go in and out quite regularly with The Daughters when they were small, hunting for treasures – for them and me.

I was amazed that she recognised me after all these years, and we had a pleasant chat, about charities, volunteering, daughters, and community life. How wonderful that she took the time and trouble to approach and greet me – it really gave me a boost.

And it brought back happy memories of The Daughters when they were small. In one charity shop Elder Daughter once discovered an old straw hat, decorated with artificial flowers and ribbons, and she wore it everywhere, on every occasion, whatever the weather – we have a photograph of her in the rain, clad in wellies (on the wrong feet – she had just learned to dress herself), dress, mac – and ‘The Hat’!

Younger Daughter was the Button Queen. Wherever we went she scoured charity shops for buttons. We amassed a collection of tins, jars and boxes which she would empty, then sort the contents according to her mood… colour, size, patterned, plain. She would count them out, devising strange games which the rest of us failed to understand.

But the buttons presented endless possibilities for play, learning and creativity.
They were used as counters, weights on scales and money in a ‘play shop’ stocked with empty cartons, unwanted toys and battered books. They were pressed into home-made playdough to create patterns; painted to produce printed designs; placed beneath paper for rubbings with wax crayons, and stuck to collages.

Additionally they were threaded on wool to make bracelets, necklaces and Christmas tree decorations, or stitched to offcuts of material, transforming the fraying remnants into colourful flower pictures which were hung in the kitchen, and brooches, which were fastened with safety pins.

However, the one thing I never did, unless absolutely unavoidable, was to replace buttons which fell off our clothes!

When I started this posting I intended to say ‘what a difference a day makes’, but ended up writing something completely different! Anyway, in just 24 hours most of the snow has gone and the temperature has risen so much I opened all the windows to let some fresh air in.

Perhaps spring is on the way after all.

Snow on Snow

AFTER yesterday's slight thaw more snow fell overnight. I awoke to find a monochrome world. Sky, ground, houses, cars and gardens had taken on the same curious yellowish grey tinge. The winter wonderland has vanished, the view is bleak and depressing and snow has continued to fall throughout the day - small, wet flakes that you think will never settle, but they do, building an ever-deepening layer on top of the older ice and sludge which lies beneath.

People trudge along, heads down, brollies up, faces as cheerless as the weather. Warmth and sunshine have become a distant memory in this seemingly endless winter...

Even Muggins, our Marmalade Cat, has lost his usual zest for life, and having swaggered outside to investigate he turned around, crept back in, curled up by the fire and now refuses to budge futher than his dish of food.

However, news of an earthquake in Haiti overshadows the problems caused by the English weather and I count my blessings as I watch heart-rending pictures of the homeless and injured, bewildered and confused, with no hope in their faces.

And I wonder how a world which unleashes such powerful, destructive forces can be the same as the world that creates the delicate tracery of a snowflake.

A New Beginning for the New Year

I AM starting the New Year with a new venture, and - despite my inability to deal with modern technology - am building on my successes with Facebook by attempting to create a blog. So far, so good!

Here I am, sitting on the sofa, with my trusty laptop, feeling somewhat sorry for myself as I have a dreadful cold which I cannot shift (it is now in its third week) and a broken toe which, surprisingly, is excrutiatingly painful. As I cannot bend the said digit, or put any pressure on it, I cannot drive, and it makes walking in the ice and snow more than a little difficult - on Friday I slipped and hurt my back when I struggled through the elements to sign on at the Jobcentre.

So, for the time being, I am housebound.

But the weather is slightly warmer today and through the widow I can see patches of grey slates showing through the snow on the rooftops, like holes worn in an old blanket, while the mini-glacier in my birdbath/birdtable (pictured in its full witer glory last week) is slowly shrinking.

Snow on the pavements has turned to a dirty white, slippery slush and people, faces hidden beneath layers of clothing, walk gingerly past, clinging to walls for support.