Here's what the weather does not look like now.
Current view, at 8:22 a.m., as I drink my coffee in quiet that's an hour quieter than it ought to be. The tablecloth is celebratory gold, in honor of our anniversary, but I guess I'll change it back after dinner tonight.
I don't, as a rule, complain about Daylight Savings Time --- I'm a complete agnostic on the subject of whether it ought to be abolished, or established as the time all year round, or whatever. And I like the longer, lighter evenings. But this morning in the rain feels particularly dark, and another hour to sleep would have been nice. I could have taken another hour, honestly, but I like to have time to ruminate over my coffee before I do anything else. And I want to go to Mass at our normal time. My husband proposed that we might go to the hangove--- I mean, the student Mass this evening, but nah. Git 'er done, is what I say.
I am glad it's raining on the things I planted yesterday: the two raspberry bushes I'd given my husband for our anniversary, plus another blackberry I'd dug up from the bed by the driveway and transplanted to the perimeter of the fenced garden, so that I can train the canes on the fence. I'd miscounted yesterday: I have only 7 blackberry canes, not 8. But in a smallish garden, I think that will quickly come to be a lot--- and God willing, they should all bear this year. The raspberries won't (assuming they live --- I'm always dubious about these bare-root sticks I plant), but should bear next year. Three of my blueberry bushes should bear at least a little. I continue to take deep pleasure in considering what to plant for the summer season . . . looking forward to eating, and drinking, from the garden again. Salads, vegetables, herbs for tea, flowers for wine . . .
Speaking of which, here's what that first batch, with dandelion, violet, and redbud, looks like currently:
I stir it once or twice a day, and it smells VERY fermenty. Another week-ish, and I'll decant it into a sterilized bottle to keep fermenting for another several months.
We had a lovely evening out in Blowing Rock, where it was a good ten degrees colder, and I was glad I'd brought my big coat. Didn't do much there but eat and drink, but that was a pleasant experience, and a lovely marking of another year of marriage. Some years we've stayed overnight in Blowing Rock, sometimes even two nights, but really, it's just as easy (and a LOT cheaper) to cruise back down the mountain and sleep in our own bed.
Despite taking it easy yesterday, I did manage to walk almost 3.5 miles, all told. Today, being Sunday, is a rest day: I'll have to take Dora out, but we won't walk much or far. We've gone almost 43 miles at this point, which has taken us from Cambridge to Ely in stages, then from Ely to Bury St. Edmunds, all of that a distance of roughly 35 miles, walking. Now, following the St. Edmund Way, we're bearing north toward the Thetford Forest and a place called Santon Downham, a distance of about 17 miles, of which we've covered roughly 8 so far. I'm not sure exactly what we're looking at right now, but will try to take some time to research today. I've been through this part of England, but only on trains or minibuses or in cars that I wasn't driving, and I don't remember that much. I have been to Castle Acre Priory, outside Kings Lynn (and I've been to Kings Lynn itself), but that's roughly 35 miles north of Bury St. Edmunds, so we have a way to go yet before we see it.
At any rate, we're having very English weather just now to accompany us on our way --- or, since it's Sunday, to beat on the windows while we sit inside drinking tea and Guinness Zero (yes, you can taste the zero . . . but then I don't think Guinness tastes like all that much, anyway. There are more flavorful stouts to be had than even Guinness Non-Zero).
Facebook keeps showing me ads for walking challenges. Maybe when I've finished this pilgrimage, I'll do something bigger in Eastertide, since I'll have a whole 50 days. Maybe I'll just keep doing them, until I've walked my way around the world, without ever leaving my own neighborhood . . .
At the moment, not very excited to get dressed to go out anywhere. But then I guess that's the Lenten spirit.
What it is:
Sierra again, because she's WARM. Thrifted merino cardigan, which does NOT have an armpit smell, and is also heavy and warm. Snag merino tights in charcoal gray, Tari boots. I wore an outfit very much like this to daily Mass on Friday, but what. the. heck. The monks wear the same thing every day, so I don't feel particularly as though I need to strain for variety.
I keep waiting for the rain to slacken, but I don't think it's going to let up before we have to leave for Mass. So I had better brush my teeth and gird myself to go out in it. At least it'll reactivate all yesterday's gel in my hair . . .