We've had the dubious fortune to enjoy months of snow, which was slowly trampled into an icy death trap. Trains were apparently not up to it and immediately put out to pasture. Hours were spent on freezing platforms waiting for nothing. Add to that the fact that I've recently taken a trip to Stockholm, terribly, deliciously cold, and to Berlin, shockingly: even colder. On a good day the temperature rose to a balmy -16 degrees.
Now it's January and I feel ready to check Winter off my list for yet another year. Of course Spring, our official calendar version, is a ways off yet. However the pagan Spring, known as Imbolc, is well underway. Small sleepy things are once again stirring underground, rustling, budding, getting ready. And me? I've started rereading Hyddenworld part 1 (by William Horwood), I have a stack of cookbooks at the ready and I am anxiously awaiting the first of the Spring fruit and veg. My beloved rhubarb is on it's way. Can't be long now, surely.
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