Paths, walls, and catty kisses

I'm doing what I can for now to combat the dominance of heavy furniture and knotty pine in this cottage. The big compromise for me was to move into a house with half the light my heart desires, and the challenge will be to maximise what there is, and to soften the look throughout.

Pale is more interesting to me, with light reflecting back and forth from old mirrors. There is much yet to be done.

Up very early this morning, wondering where the cats were. Lottie was in her usual place, on my bed - that cat doesn't like to be parted from me for long. But Millie? Scooter and Hamish?

I looked out of my bedroom window. Scooter was on the wall, lurking under the honeysuckle; Hamish came hurtling over from two neighbours' walls with the practised ease of a former city cat who had had yard walls on which to exercise.

Millie appeared from another direction, and the three of them trooped indoors. Human at window might signify breakfast time.

Later I rescued the Daily Frog, flopping about in a bemused way in the utility room. Today's DF was brown; yesterday's was green. I'll be glad when the frog novelty wears off.

Our walk this morning took us past the little war memorial and under the trees. A flat route to accommodate Tosca's wonky legs.

And of course there had to be a little sit down at the far end. Tosca has taught Flossie that walks don't have to involve charging about the whole time.

Although charging about is preferable....

We passed the memorial bench of a lady who features in the title deeds of my cottage. I must find out more about her.

Elderberries are ripening everywhere; later I must make some jelly.

And there are sloes. Perhaps my Christmas gifts this year could involve gin?

So much grows in the stone walls here.

Home, to be greeted affectionately.

Or just looked at thoughtfully. Never mind all that kissing; just serve the breakfast!

After breakfast, back to bed for some little people.

Apart from the Daily Frog, it's a lovely life.