June

It has been so cold recently. The coldest beginning of June I can remember since we moved to these parts nine years ago. I wish I could tell you that each time the winter season comes around I am better prepared, more accepting and embracing of it's unique opportunities and prompts - but I'm not. I loathe it. My whole body seems to go on protest: sore, knotted, aching, raw, sad. I have some deeper issues with my health and specifically my thyroid that we are trying to pin down and support - and interestingly one of it's symptoms is poor circulation and an increased sensitivity to the cold. Knowing this helps, if only to remind me that my body is actually finding it more difficult to winter than previous years. I wish I could curl up in a cave to hibernate and reappear with the bright sun in spring! 

I recently finished knitting a shawl using a skein of handspun and dyed wool I bought on my birthday weekend at Tarndie Farm. I used some other fingering weight yarn a friend gave me. All through the knitting process I wondered how these colours would sit together, how unusual and theatrical they seemed. I wasn't sure I would like it, let alone want to wear it. And now the shawl is finished I chuckle at it's honest reflection of winter: the brown wood for the heater, table tops and toast, the silver frost, grey hairs, woollen jumpers, and the red rosehips, beetroots, swollen fingertips, blessed life-giving blood. Best of all it's soft and warm, exactly what I need. 

How are you going? Is it winter for you or is summer unfurling? If you were here I'd put the kettle on and we would pull our chairs close to fire and sip warm relief. Take care x