It had been a stressful week, but I was enjoying the leisurely morning preparing for my journey north. It was lovely to be able to take my time… there were still hours ahead of me before I intended leaving; hours in which I could wallow in a bath, pack properly for once and clear everything outstanding in my inboxes before the workshop weekend claimed my attention. I would even have time to call somewhere on the road and had designs on the glories of Lichfield Cathedral. I should have known better… one phone call and I was cramming things into a bag and thinking with regret of the emails I would be unable to answer as my plans were changed and I dashed, ungroomed, out of the door, hoping with little confidence that I’d remembered everything I would need. Except my wrist splints… I had forgotten those and regretted it throughout the drive.
Ah well, I am neither mouse nor man, but I know all about those best laid plans going off at a tangent. I put my foot down and concentrated on the long road ahead.
The journey always holds a beauty to lift the heart, no matter what the season. The colours of the landscape were fantastic… incessant rain had painted everything in high contrast; England is still very green and the dark earth and bare trees made stark reflections in flooded fields and the road surface glistened and sparkled.
The roads seemed busy and I couldn’t really understand why… until the preponderance of Christmas trees reminded me that it was, after all, December. It didn’t feel like it with the unseasonably mild weather and I have seldom felt less Christmassy than this year or been less prepared. By now I would usually be well on the way to organised and definitely feeling the seasonal spirit lighten the long darkness of the days. This year? No… I’ve barely thought about it. Even so, a quick dash into a shop en route left me glad of the missing mascara. Quite why ‘White Christmas’ should get me every year, I don’t know…but every year it is the same soggy story the first time I hear it played.
I arrived at my destination in Yorkshire on time though some five hours after leaving to be greeted with coffee and the knowledge that an evening lay ahead that would contain nothing except wine and conversation… and a home cooked dinner with bread fresh from the oven. And somehow, that changed everything. Sometimes it is the smallest things that can turn a day around.Without a trace of tinsel or glitter, suddenly it had begun to feel like Christmas.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
I am also going away this weekend and up to our family cottage in the mountain. A few hours journey. I need to settle and managing the cottage – the usual cleaning & tidying work. And then put up those Christmas decos and at last the Christmas tree as well. Grandma stays with the kids since they are still in school and later I pick them up the next week. We celebrate somewhere isolated in the woods and being up there in nature until after New Year 2016. Will have a great time … 😛
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That sounds wonderful Sherrie!
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Fresh bread always said comfort to me. Enjoy your visit. White or green or brown…still Christmas. 🎄🎄🎄
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I did, Van… home again now 🙂
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My soggy Christmas song is John Lennon/Yoko Ono War is Over. Really. I’m not safe to drive the first time I hear it each season. Lovely post. Thank you.
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Glad you got there safely. Hopefully, you had peace and quiet to enjoy!
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That… and the company… and the rain. And hills… 🙂
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Sometimes when you’re really busy, it’s hard to get into the season. I usually don’t snap to until the week of Christmas,probably in response to decorations appearing in early November and the incessant Christmas music.
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Mulled wine and mince pies do it for me… any time of year… but this year I am completely disorganised.
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Our town looks like Christmas, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. It’s been an open window day … let the warm spring air in. Let’s hear it for El Nino who is keeping our weather warm. I do NOT miss the cold, ice, and snow. Now even a little bit.
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Dark, wet and windy here… but not much frost.
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