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Somehow I missed April altogether.
But the unfurling Spring blossom and the lengthening days have reaching for my camera and finding my words.
On a fine day there are few things nicer that a trip up the Suffolk coast.
That long expanse of shingle beach, the weather worn fishing boats and an endless stretch of sky.
The glint of Maggi Hambling's Scallop draws us like magnets, we cannot pass it without a pause.
We strolled from Aldeburgh to Thorpeness where we stopped for ice-cream and wondered at the mist rolling magically across The Meare. Back again to Aldeburgh for fish and chips on the beach.
Yes, on a fine day there can be few things nicer.
This has been a winter of monotony, a winter that has outstayed its welcome and then some. Whilst I would not swap our four seasons for anything and truly believe each season has its merits it has to be said that right now, as the days grow longer, the joy of lighting the fire each evening and unfolding the blankets is losing its pleasure.
So when the sun suddenly, and oh so very occasionally, breaks through the cloud it is important to stop what you are doing and soak it up.
That glorious light catching on the table pot of flowers. Illuminating the edges of pictures, searching through the kitchen, dust sparkling in its rays.
It is so good to know that it is out there, climbing higher by the day and soon, surely soon, it will win out against winter and light up our days once more.
So it's been a while.
Work got rather crazy in the last few months. Good but crazy.
Things got out of balance.
But I am finding my way back and there have been some rather fabulous bits in between all the work.
We went to the beach in winter, there were giant magical bubbles and cold bracing surf.
It was perfect.
I am not sure I have ever been away from my blog for so long.
As always, the more time passes the harder it is find the words.
So I am just breaking the seal, so to speak.
And stepping quietly back in from the cold.
And gosh yes, my goodness is it cold. October has passed in a flash and right now the trees are alight, leaves falling fast and the air crisp and sharp. There has been plenty of that November gloom already, thick heavy fog which hangs around all day but in between there are sudden bursts of light, clear cold skies and the berries on fire in the sunlight.
Thank you so much for each and every one of your kind words on the last post, they brought great comfort. We have adjusted mostly though the young dog has taken to occasional night time howling, we think he wakes up lonely. It rather breaks the heart.
Over the last few weeks we have watched our old lady age before our eyes.
Her eyesight and hearing fading faster than ever, her body growing thinner and weaker.
It was no surprise when the time came to say goodbye on Sunday.
We had Oakley longer than we had our children. Fifteen years old, a fine age for an English Setter. She was our trial run of course, the practise for parenthood. Our first foray into true adult responsibilty.
And we spoilt her dreadfully. She slept on our bed for years, in between us, head on pillow and stretched full length. Eventually we did get her to sleep downstairs but up until the end of her life she still climbed the stairs each morning for her mid-morning nap.
She begged mercilessly at the table and was an enormous help during child weaning years, swift to clean up any high-chair fall out.
I am afraid she even joined us at the table from time to time.
She loved mud but hated rain. She wore a constant expression of melancholy and put up with all manner of indignity at the hands of small children. She was a champion picnic thief and raider of shopping bags.
She never lay upon the floor if a sofa was available.
She was tuned to our moods, appearing gently by our sides when tears fell but hiding under the table when voices were raised.
We feel incredibly lucky to have had her in our lives for so long, she made us better and we will never forget her gentle soul.
I am finding my feet once more, carving my way through September. The children have settled into term and I am beginning to enjoy the peace of each day.
Work is busy: new products, bespoke orders and the building up of stock for, whispers, that thing that happens in a few months time.
I still stop for lunch every day.
It's not a long lunch.
And never fancy.
I turn pages of a magazine, catch up on Twitter or read my favourite blogs.
This week I mostly eat figs and ham. A feast for the eyes and tongue.
The figs are ripe and juicy. The ham is salty and thinly sliced. On the first day I had no bread other than English muffins. On subsequent days I could not dream of accompanying my figs and ham in any other way.
Right now the silence is deafening as the house silently breathes in the lonely air and as suddenly as the noise and chaos erupted six short weeks ago it stops. Just like that.
The Nerf bullets lie abandoned in dusty corners.
A bedroom windowsill holds the forgotten remains of a desert crash scene.
And the wounded stand still.
The Sylvanians lie undisturbed in their beds.
The keyboard is struck dumb.
And Elizabeth despairs of her tangled hair and inappropriate clothing.
School is back and I am filled with those same old feelings of redundancy. I know my days will soon resume their peaceful rhythm and I will rejoice in the hours of solitude but it takes a while. It takes a while.
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