Grey

I don't much care for November. It always seems such a damp and dark month, stuck between colourful October and sparkly December. When I visualise the months of the year (and days of the week too) in my head they each have their own distinct colours. October is coppery-brown, December navy blue flecked with silver. November is pewter grey. 

It's rained a lot lately, or at least it feels like it has. And when it hasn't rained it's been misty and murky from morning till night, and I don't like leaving work when it's getting dark any more than I like waking up without sunshine. It's a bit depressing, coming home to a dark house. I've sorted out timers on lights now, but still. 

I don't seem to have many photos to share, just these few, taken this weekend while staying with friends who live just outside Bristol. Old friends from Leeds who we've known for years, the kind of friendships that grow and last. It was lovely to see the children all pick up where they left off, lovely to be welcomed into their big, noisy, colourful, creative home.

I have so many things I want to photograph. I've just made a big rug for our bedroom and it's come out really well, I'm itching to share it with you, but it's so tricky now to photograph things. I'm only in the house during daylights hours for a short time each morning, and if it's gloomy - or I'm busy - then no photos.  My hours at work have gone back to their normal part time, and I really appreciate the difference it makes. Everything is slightly less rushed. Still busy, but there's a little give in the schedule. 

Our washing machine has died. A man came to look at it and said fixing it would cost the same as buying a new one. It was older than Angus and I think that washing machine years when you have young children are like dog years, so really it was about forty years old, not seven. A shiny new one is coming this week. My incredibly kind parents have been taking our washing every couple of days and then returning it, dried, folded and smelling wonderful (why does other peoples' washing powder always smell nicer than the one I use?) before picking up another bag of laundry. Consequently, I'm finding our lack of washing machine an incredibly stress free experience, although I'm not sure if my parents would share that sentiment. 

I'm starting to think about Christmas. I've done some shopping online and I've picked out two patterns for toys I want to make Bella and Angus. I have to say that I miss the time I used to have to make gifts. Right now, I want to to make everything I see; presents for friends and family, edible gifts, Christmas decorations, bits and bobs for the house. I want to make a new advent calendar even though we have a beautiful one already. But I can only do a few things and I have to be realistic, to choose my projects wisely, know my limitations. It's all too easy to get caught up in the Christmas race if you're not careful, and no-one wins that one.