It’s December and I scroll through my Facebook, full of photos documenting snowstorms back home. A foot of white flakes on our back porch in Michigan. The annual bitter statuses that [fill in any non-northern state] got a snow day for a measly flurry.
Meanwhile, England. It’s been a happily dry Autumn/Winter. Still, my house is an old, drafty Victorian and the radiator rattles away in the farthest corner from my bed. I’ve been getting up before dawn, before the radiator seems able to muster itself up for the day ahead. Which makes two of us.
Still, there’s mulled cider, twinkling lights, the village Christmas market we stopped at on the drive home last week. I got my fill of even more wintry spirit this past weekend, in Dorset.
I filled up on home-cooked food, strong coffees, kitty snuggles, crackling fire places, a long blustery walk out to the sea. Definitely the fresh air I’ve needed after these past few months cooped up working. And, we stopped at one of my favorite places in Dorset – Corfe Castle. High on a hill overlooking it’s cobbled village, this ruined castle is over a thousand years old. The fact it’s still standing is comforting in itself.
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