Mizzle and drizzle. Rain and showers. Fog and mist. Easterly waves and wind.
This has been going on for nearly nine days.
I know I should be glad, being a good farmer’s wife and all, but the truth is I hate it…
Twenty two years ago, when we moved back to Tasmania from Melbourne, we built a house on the side of a hill. It was the only house on the hill at the time. And we grew a beautiful garden from nothing, surrounding the house with over 120 trees, including an avenue of silver birches…
According to the media, the world is a pretty miserable place at the moment and I refuse to allow that to affect my life and how I live it because my part of the world is quiet with breathtaking vistas. It offers a myriad of beautiful things that cosset and nurture.
Life is too short not to be happy.
When I was young and TV had just begun in my home town, I fell in love with a little show called Tales of the Riverbank.
It wasn’t the animals so much, it was life on the river, a secret life. Little animals tucked away in the long grasses and shrubs of the riverbank and even better, animals that had adventures.
In that once-upon-a-time, Dad would sit and read Wind in the Willows to me and Ratty and Mole became my heroes – particularly Ratty because of his love of the water and boats. I was a child of the water then.
And when my own children were young, we became devotees of the BBC TV production of Wind in the Willows.
Those who are my Facebook friends will know that I have become seriously tired of bad news. Of bad news online, on the TV, on radio and in the newspapers.
So much so, I choose not to engage with anything negative that is reported now.
Or anything negative, period.
Yes, it might be ‘head in sand’ type stuff, but I don’t care. And this was underlined when a family member’s LinkedIn account was hacked last night and she received a plethora of images of the beheading. Such trauma inflicted on an innocent woman on the far side of the world – and presumably for no reason other than gratification for the perpetrator.