Silent Sunday

Four of these photos are from a miniature guest blogger… the boy has talent!

Silent Sunday: the return

Sundays, streams and frosts

Apologies for the absence – it’s marking season and I’ve been connected via digits and retinas to the computer for not-so-fun activities. Still, since the weather has been so bad, it’s not given me too much heartache. I can get a fire going, sit in front of it with my laptop and mark away until I get fatigue. That happens very quickly these days. Plus, I’ve had a lot of other stuff on, including delivering a session on how to teach bilingual children to read in English. Oh, and deliveries.

Another thing that’s driving me crazy is that I had a really good CD of classical music that used to really keep me going through the marking, but it’s lost. Boo. No other music will do.

So, here’s the weekend in seven shots…

Frosty fields and standing water…

Curious George..

Early morning sunshine… A little different than the grey that’s been sitting over us for the past who knows how long…

Polytunnel waiting for summer…

Garden still under water. Not standing water, any more though, since the Bellonne river has returned. It usually sinks into a karst near Taponnat, some 7 or 8 km away. The only place you can really see it over here is on the road from Agris to Chasseneuil, where the road curves down into the valley. The Bellonne is marked, but I’ve never seen it run there. Now, you can see the river running through the field on the other side of mine. It goes through my garden, under the troll bridge, into the field and then into the Tardoire.

Obviously, it’s not deep, but it still runs pretty fast.

And yet it’s still raining. Oh well. Nothing’s growing and Heston loves playing in it.

Last… some leftover carrots!

 

Silent Sunday (and a bit of waffle)

My cool after-party birthday gifts. My new zen haiku poetry journal, a cake from Deb, and a huuuuuuugggge pile of seeds. God I love my friends.
Charlton and Heston being lovely boys. I did try to take a photo on Verity’s black sofa, but all you could see were a few teeth.
This week, I have mostly been wearing cool socks my friends bought me in order to feed the chicken girls and being glad I’m off the fashion police radar. Like they’d let me wear nutty crocs and red stripey socks.
Not that any socks can live up to a hand-made pair by Sarah’s mum. Perfect.
A picture of the divine weather last week…
And a picture of the dirty weather this week. Urgh.
Enjoy a peaceful Sunday, y’all! I’m going from creative writing about killers on the loose to an analysis of the form of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnets, with a little detour around some phonics and GCSE papers.

Silent Sundays: The Return!

I’m trying to get back into the habit again, I promise!

Panther Cap mushrooms… maybe!

 

No idea… anyone?

 

favourite walk along the Bandiat

 

Sunny autumn days!

Heights of autumn

 

Spindle berries

 

I’m a lucky girl to have this on my doorstep

Silent Sundays

 

- Nothing like a walk to see how slowly the world really turns 

Silent Sundays

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silent Sundays

Thanks to Simplicity in Action, I’ve picked up a whole load of new readers…. so thanks so much for stopping by! It means a lot to me.

I do two things fairly regularly on this blog, besides pontificating about life… and that’s Much Love Mondays, where I offset the Monday gloom (not that I really get any!) with some things I love, and Silent Sundays where I remember that silence is golden. Lots of words spill out of my mouth and fingers, and this is my way of finding that small voice of calm in amid the noise and chaos.

I think it’s a pictorial representation of things that have made me smile in the week. That’s all.

Enough with the words.

 

 

 

 

 

Almost Silent Sunday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those of you who knew Tilly before Heston will probably join me in complete astonishment that she plays at all. She used to look at Molly and César playing and wonder what the hell they were doing. She’d bark at them and get upset. She was the least likely dog ever to play with a puppy. The chances of her being playful were about the same as the chance that Victoria Beckham might give a natural smile. And that, as you know, is not a very big chance at all.

And now there is a lot of playing in this house. She might be a good three inches shorter than him now, with a tiny little mouth and jaw, and blunt little claws, but she plays and plays. It’s amazing to watch this sad little unsocialised dog learn to play for the first time. When she arrived at our house, she didn’t play at all. Jake taught her to run for a ball, and sometimes she’d play with a bit of bone, but the chance of her playing with Molly was nil. She still won’t run for a ball, but she’s turned into a completely different dog. Hopefully she’ll learn that chest down, bum up, tail wagging, playful bark means ‘Come On! Come and Wrestle With Me!’

Silent Sunday