It's been a hectic time. Packing, not knowing our new postal address until last night (it's complicated). Catching up with friends and family before the big move. Driving up to Skye with furniture to put into storage. School-related festivities. The list goes on.
Yesterday morning we visited friends who live just down the road. A very icy walk. But once we got there it was a lovely gathering: a beautiful Christmas tree, mince pies, excited children, music and a crackling fire. Joe is with his grandparents this weekend so we can get on with things so it was a shame he missed out, but he'll see everyone before we head north.
After lunch the two of us went for a walk in the snow. It was very quiet, just the creaking of snow underfoot. A perfect day for perhaps our last walk together around here.
We headed to the old railway line where the trees meet overhead. It's magical in the snow and sure enough, just as we approached, more began to fall softly. So this is an unashamedly picture-heavy post. Because what's more photogenic than snow in December?
It's trying to snow again right now. We're going out for a farewell family meal later. And I suspect I'm in for another sleepless night; my mind is racing with all the upheaval, things still to be done. But we've secured a rental property: an old farmhouse on a steep hillside. Chilly and remote but with two real fires and views out to sea, friendly neighbours and a little village school down the road. Best of all, we can move in just before Christmas.
I don't want to speak to soon but maybe, just maybe, after a tough few years things are finally starting to fall into place...