Posts Tagged ‘snow’

So I was worrying about the trees in my last post. Well, I arrived at Spring Cottage to find things could have been worse. snowy landscape

A rapid thaw was happening, the temperature having shot up from minus three to about five degrees centigrade overnight. Where I’m told there had been knee-deep snow yesterday, patches of earth were now appearing.

snowy landscape

The house looked more or less intact. I’d remembered to turn off the water before I left, there was no burst pipe. On the other hand, the back door looked suspiciously wet and was hard to open. I put my shoulder to it and burst out into the soggy garden, shocking some birds into the sky. Above me, the gutter teetered at an unseemly angle and disgorged its melting contents straight at the door. In the garden, we’d lost a couple of tree branches here and there, nothing desperate and it will all make good kindling once it’s dried out.

hedge along a roadside

The weight of the now rapidly vanishing snow had done other things as well. Along the lane, bits of hedge were looming forwards in the manner of a drunk sharing a confidence. Lonicera Nitida, sometimes known as boxleaf honeysuckle, is easy to shape and trim but, being a relative of the climber, it hasn’t got any what you might call ‘integrity’. Rather, it leans up against itself like a teenager during that phase where they cling to doorframes to stay upright. Weigh it down with a lot of snow and it’s gone – teenager to drunk in a week.

trimmed hedge

I had to do something before the forecast rain arrived. So I swapped my idea of walking in the hills for sturdy yellow work gloves, reached through the hedge as far as I could from the garden side and hoicked the spindly stems inwards. Then from the roadside, more than ankle deep in thawing snow, I shoved it upwards with an upside down broom. But it wasn’t enough, it had lost its grip, and some of its top-heaviness just had to go if the next snowfall wasn’t going to see it lying stretched out across the lane.

Now that it’s done, I’m thinking that the snow did me a favour, although I would have liked a walk instead of a sore elbow from wielding the shears. The hedge is now thinned out for a bit of fresh growth in the spring and should be all the stronger for it.

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From the silhouettes of Italian trees to the spectacular giants of Lydeard Hill in Somerset, they are under threat and I am worrying about them; capturing their beauty while I can.




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It’s a place where people still cycle in sub zero temperatures.

Where it is still expected that you might wish to sit outside to eat when snow lies on the ground. (They give you blankets.)

Where the snow thawing in the sun on the roof freezes again before it reaches the ground.

Good morning!

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The snow’s all gone now but for the brief day or so that we had it, it revealed new textures in the patchwork of the hills.

The garden was suddenly full of the evidence of the birds and animals that traverse it when I’m not looking.

Of the flowers, only the snowdrops seemed to be relishing the sub zero temperature. Everything else – primulas, hellebores, crocuses, euphorbias – all were bent to the ground, crushed by the frost.

And the frozen pond had claimed another frog; suspended in ice so thick that it will have to wait many days until the thaw.

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Floodtime:  We had a pipe burst in the loft over the kitchen and I learned to leave the heating on and turn off the water at the mains when I leave.



Repairtime: So many things wrong with the house all of a sudden that it became rather depressing to be here but we got through it.


In which my neighbour brought me some eggs from the farm, Spring Cottage had lots of visitors and I was reimbursed for the flood by the insurance.


When Spring arrived at the cottage, as did a lorryload of logs, and the house was painted. We also celebrated our first year here.



Started with a bang. On the day I collected my new car, I had a crash. Racing, double-barrelled cow driving the other car, who then lied about what happened. I’m still annoyed…



We settled into enjoying the cottage this month, with visitors and summer times in the garden. Nice that the pace slowed down a little.


During which nothing much happened and blogging really almost stopped, only to be followed by…



During which the blog went public. I had a holiday down here, and blogged like a woman possessed. I also journeyed to the beautiful Montacute House, south of here, and did lots of gardening.

riding clothesSeptember

Brought the discovery that what I thought was mainly an ornamental vine in the garden, actually had grapes on it. I also celebrated the first comment on the blog and went riding for the first time.

autumn leavesOctober

October arrived with the cheque from the insurers for the car accident in May. It took five months for them to settle the claim, because they are a pile of idiots. I started having riding lessons.


In which Spring Cottage had eight lads to stay and there was the first snow before Christmas for many years.


Was cold and frosty, with snow covering everything for the best part of a fortnight. It was frustrating not to be able to get to the cottage despite the Tank – although this was mostly cowardice rather than practicality.

Happy New Year! I hope 2011 brings all the things everyone wishes for, combined with good health and happiness.

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I actually talked to people today – I mean, real people, not just on the ‘phone. It’s so easy here to go for days without seeing a soul to speak to.

I drove over the back way to Triscombe Nurseries via Lydeard Hill and the Blue Ball Inn and didn’t get lost for once.

The Blue Ball, Triscombe.

The Blue Ball, Triscombe

The hills were wreathed in a dense, damp fog interspersed with occasional, surprising, glimpses of bright autumn leaves, which the wind has not shaken loose from their branches. I love driving along these narrow lanes through the hills, especially when it’s as atmospheric as it was today. It was quite possible to imagine that the last 50 years have been wiped away, with chickens feeding by the sides of the road and the tarmac’ed surfaces flowing freely with reddish muddy water as the snow melts.

At Triscombe Nurseries, the chap seemed to have verbal diarrhoea and told me all about what he was doing yesterday, when I drove over to find them shut. So, now he knows all about me and I know all about him and his children, as well as about some people living locally to me, who I don’t know! This is what I love about life down here. At first, I felt impatient, as he buttonholed me before I’d even had a chance to look around, but actually, despite the lengthy chat, it saved me time, because he asked what I wanted and got straight round to getting it for me, while I hunted out some hyacinth bulbs. End result: some interaction, actual interaction, rather than what passes for interaction these days, and a thoroughly efficient shopping experience. With the weather the way it was, it wouldn’t have been very nice to linger longer anyway.

I also stopped and chatted to my next door neighbour, who lives five minutes’ walk away. She cares for her 93 year-old husband and had been completely snowed in, as the milk tankers pushed the snow right up to her driveway, which then froze over. The farmers keep the road open for the tankers to get through but that’s no help if you can’t get your car in or out. I’m surprised that they were so inconsiderate though. She sent me a Christmas card and I am always touched at such small signs of acceptance into the community.

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I knew it would happen as soon as I’d got over the massive hump that is Christmas and all one has to achieve during that time and before. I am ill. Gripped by a sore throat and lethargy, I have slept the morning away to find a huge thaw under way, which has saved me from carving a path out of the front garden.

Forcing myself out of bed, I almost fled straight back to London. But the Children are taking Little Sister to the Natural History Museum today, so all that I would gain is the looming clearing up, which is best ignored for the time being. Instead, I decided to tackle the chores I brought with me, head on. I have put up Mr and Mrs Hangup from RE (they are actually called that):

I also put up the mirror I picked up on my trip to Langport, so that you can actually see yourself in the bathroom. Rather a shame really, as one of the luxuries of being down here is not having to worry about appearances and not having a mirror helped.

Then, I discovered the wonderful, surreal world of the Clerkenwell Kid and the sounds of the Real Tuesday Weld. But aside from this, I’m afraid I’m not very inspired today. I have no idea why I am showing you pictures of my flannel and tea towels… Time to go.

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