The cowl with the real X factor

There are several reasons I’m feeling rather pleased with myself this evening, as I multi-task (I’m both languishing and typing) in front of our roaring log fire on this somewhat rainy Monday. Here are two of them: 1) today, following our most recent (8-mile) hike, we topped 50 miles (we’re on 53 miles so far) as a holiday hikeage total; 2) I have finished, worn and am loving my new woolly cowl, as modelled here by my fair self, with Swanage Pier in the background:

A slightly dark and blowy day recently in Swanage. But I didn't care, wrapped up as I was in my lovely new cowl.

A slightly dark and blowy day recently in Swanage. But I didn’t care, wrapped up as I was in my lovely new cowl.

Continue reading

Advertisements

All buttoned up!

Cosily ensconced in our holiday cottage in Purbeck, Dorset we now finally and undeniably are and, indeed, have so been ever since late last Friday afternoon, when we arrived – having taken more than an hour to get out of London’s trafficky clutches and then completed the remainder of the journey in a relative flash – in definite need of some serious relaxation and unwinding. Two glorious weeks and this warming open fire lie before us: heaven!

Our first ever open fire!

Our first ever open fire!

You may be forgiven for thinking – given the picture above – that we have not yet stirred out of our Grade II listed Purbeck Stone quarryman’s cottage which dates back to 1772. You may be forgiven, but you’d be wrong. Continue reading

A shedload of yarn

This time next week, we’ll have been cosily ensconced in our holiday cottage in Purbeck, Dorset, for two whole days. Our long-awaited break is almost upon us – and not a moment too soon! On Friday, having made the third and final of three enormous work-related deadlines, I went for a walk to release some adrenaline. After ten minutes, my body reacted – suddenly and decidedly – to the relief and it was all I could do to convince one foot to follow the other until I got back home. ‘The fatigue is come upon me’, cried the Lady of Crouch End – or, at least, she would have done, had she had sufficient strength for more than a whimper.
Continue reading