Yesterday was the now annual event that is setting up the Christmas tree. For the last three years, it has been snowy, but this time round it was dry and well above freezing. Not so Christmassy perhaps, but not so chilly on the feet either. We buy the tree in the neighbouring village. Wandering around the plot and trying to find the perfect tree can take a while, but having found one we liked, which was actually far taller than we needed, the man came and cut it down and packed it up for us. At least we know it’s freshly harvested! And now, there it stands, the centre-piece in the room sending its wonderful warm light out into the darkness.
It was raining quite fiercely earlier today. I generally try to get out for a walk each morning at eleven, but sometimes these dull wet mornings it can be difficult to motivate myself. I could, however, hear the surf from inside the house, so convincing myself that it would be spectacular, I donned a waterproof jacket, tied up the hood (so the wind didn’t just blow it straight back off) and set out.
I tried to take some photographs, but as ever it is impossible to capture the sullen ferocity, the continuous boiling motion and the roar that fills the air. Ferocious is the right word for it. As ever after a storm, there were sad little avian bodies scattered along the shoreline along with the washed up seaweed.
When I do walk down to the sea on a windy day, I find it hard to drag myself away. I eventually turned back when I realised I couldn’t get any further without getting my feet wholly soaked. And anyway, by that time, the rainwater soaking into my leggings was becoming heavy enough to cause them to descend. Even I have my limits!
Finally, when I got home, I finished making the Bailey’s Irish Cream and Rum Butter Truffles. You can find the recipes here.