It's that time of year when people reflect wisely on the year that's gone. I don't have any words of wisdom, but here are a few things I know now:
Breaking your ribs really hurts – especially when you breathe, cough, sneeze, laugh, sit down, stand up, bend down, lift the kettle, or -worst of all - when someone you love hugs you tightly.
You can eat your home-grown kale in various guises every day and give mountains of it away and there will still be more.
My grandchildren know more about most things than I ever will – and are very gentle as they try to bring me up to speed.
You really can improve your memory with rosemary and sage – at least I think that is what I read
I like technology a lot less than I did ten years ago – and it likes me even less.
The balance between rewilding for nature and preserving a century old wall stone wall is hard to achieve. I'm happy for the wall, but sad for the bees that love the ivy flowers.
I don’t miss our wee bonny hand cut Ballachulish slates as much as I thought I would, and I do sleep better during stormy weather since we re-roofed.
A week on retreat in the mountains of Spain helped me stay sane in a turbulent year... although that depends on your definition of sanity.
I believe the Prof recovered so quickly and completely from cancer because of his good living, good diet and good humour, while he puts it down to copious amounts of red wine. In reality, we both know it was down to our amazing NHS.
The First Dog on the Moon combines wondrous humour with good sense and is my favourite cartoon.
Our bodies are incredible self-healing machines. I mean, how do three broken ribs find each other and fuse again? It's a mystery.
I’m doing a herbalism course that involves bits of anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. I remember more about all that than I thought I did – it’s the sage, you know.
Things that are good for me – like a walk on this lovely frosty morning – are in inverse proportion to how much I want to start them. While I sit typing in my jammies, the Prof has already got his boots on for the walk I promised I would go an hour ago.
Breaking your ribs really hurts – especially when you breathe, cough, sneeze, laugh, sit down, stand up, bend down, lift the kettle, or -worst of all - when someone you love hugs you tightly.
You can eat your home-grown kale in various guises every day and give mountains of it away and there will still be more.
My grandchildren know more about most things than I ever will – and are very gentle as they try to bring me up to speed.
You really can improve your memory with rosemary and sage – at least I think that is what I read
I like technology a lot less than I did ten years ago – and it likes me even less.
The balance between rewilding for nature and preserving a century old wall stone wall is hard to achieve. I'm happy for the wall, but sad for the bees that love the ivy flowers.
I don’t miss our wee bonny hand cut Ballachulish slates as much as I thought I would, and I do sleep better during stormy weather since we re-roofed.
A week on retreat in the mountains of Spain helped me stay sane in a turbulent year... although that depends on your definition of sanity.
I believe the Prof recovered so quickly and completely from cancer because of his good living, good diet and good humour, while he puts it down to copious amounts of red wine. In reality, we both know it was down to our amazing NHS.
The First Dog on the Moon combines wondrous humour with good sense and is my favourite cartoon.
Our bodies are incredible self-healing machines. I mean, how do three broken ribs find each other and fuse again? It's a mystery.
I’m doing a herbalism course that involves bits of anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. I remember more about all that than I thought I did – it’s the sage, you know.
Things that are good for me – like a walk on this lovely frosty morning – are in inverse proportion to how much I want to start them. While I sit typing in my jammies, the Prof has already got his boots on for the walk I promised I would go an hour ago.