Even though I only had the window open a smidgen it woke me. The dread of walking out in it plays into my dreams and I am beset by greyness. He writes his notes courtesy of Michael Fish with my morning weather report and urges me to ‘STAY IN!’. But I don’t. Not because I am cussid but because I need to be in the fear of it (and I am fearful of its strength) and survive. And sometimes even enjoy it, for the air is wonderful, so new, though the rain is bugger. I didn’t walk far which makes me ratty, feeling that I should push myself more. Some kids were out bringing their takeaway garlic bread home. They seem invulnerable to gusts, as they laugh and shout and lollop their way up the hill. Sophie’s Café has it’s tree up and lit which gladdened my heart as I trudged past. Oh, how I love to see Christmas decorations on these dark mornings, no matter how gaudy.
We talked about snowdrops at breakfast. I wish I’d planted some as well as the crocuses and hyacinths. Are they the first spring flowers to show?
