Bringing the Outdoors In

My most favourite thing about this season is the excuse to fill the house with winter greenery. Sure, I have flowers in vases in the summer, and even the odd house plant that survives long-term neglect. But none of this compares with squeezing an entire tree in to your front room. And it just isn’t Christmas without the smell of pine needles.

This year we’ve found ourselves without an armchair (you’ll now find it in the new kitchen) and no way to buy one before Christmas. So we had the perfect excuse to fill half the room with a tree far too big to be sensible.

I felt seven years old all over again, feeling so excited about how ridiculous big our tree is. I loved last year’s tiny tree, but this is the real big-kid hang-your-stockings-santas-coming deal. I am revelling in it, and it hasn’t even got lights yet. The 25th is still a while away after all.

Off on a Plane

Tom and I are heading off to Belfast for the weekend to see The National play. At the risk of hyperbole, these guys have got to be my all-time favourite band. They remind me of being plugged in to my headphones after walking through the Pyrenees on honeymoon, and they haven’t been far from my top tracks list ever since.

Beyond the music, I’m looking forward to exploring a new city, ambling around with my man, staying in a luxurious hotel, and doing absolutely no homework. Happy Weekend!

Au Gîte

So we didn’t actually camp every night of our holiday. We rolled it up in favour of a few nights of home comforts and a family reunion in Burgundy. Getting there involved a mad dash across Paris for connecting trains, which was such fun I think Tom might be a convert to city cycling. My family greeted us off the train on a fleet of bikes and we had a merry escort up the hill to the gite.

We spent the days catching up over lazy breakfasts, enjoying the perfectly smooth roads, and visiting local villages. We welcomed in my 31st year with strawberry tarts, sorbet, and espresso. It feels a good start to the rest of the year.

On y va à vélo

We have returned from a fortnight in France, riding through sleepy green lanes and over far, hay-baled fields. We gorged on buttery pastries, and creamy brie, daily baguettes and refreshing afternoon beers.

We stopped in plenty of towns, ordering grand cafes and hunting out English newspapers. We weren’t always able to get our coffee early, making the the first of the daily kilometres pretty tough. But we were spurred on by varied roads, several ferries, and persistently cheerful cries of hello from the many fellow riders about.

We cycled 500k, poring over new sections of maps, and seeking out campsites with our rudimentary French. Our bikes got along famously as ever, valiantly carrying us over dusty tracks and through rainy winds.

We got along pretty famously too.

Holiday Snaps

Purbeck may be on the coast, but our trip away wasn’t all sea and sand. There was also hillside runs (or staggers in my case), woodland wanders, pub garden pints and plenty of books. And, as always, Tom merrily snapped away throughout it all.