Tag Archives: photos

My Somerset Year: January – April 2010


New cottage, new job, new life. Driving. Sleeping alone. Darkness. Winter walks and weekend drives. Exploring.



Anniversaries. One month of country living. Eight being together. Getting used to country living. Snow. Sunshine. Friends visiting.



Lambs. Spring. Daffodils. Riding on the Railway. More sunshine.



More visits. Sunsets. Blossom. Spring lunches sat outside in the sunshine. Easter.



Suddenly, the countryside has come alive with blossom. I took these in our garden this afternoon after a rather rainy day where we drove over the moors and down to the beach before retiring to home for tea, biscuits and a relaxing evening spent reading and blogging and sitting cosily in the kitchen with my husband.

The verges and hedges are full of greeness, wild flowers and new shoots. The whole place has been carpeted with soft green verdent grass. Birds are nesting and the air has a new found warmth to it. Flocks of dandilions appeared as if from nowhere. Exmoor really is beautiful.

All photos by me

If you go to the woods today…

Last weekend we went for a walk. Front after front rolled in off the sea and we spent the vast amount of the walk in clouds and mist and rain. Periodically it would clear leaving views across the moorland to the coast. As we walked through the ancient oak woodlands Exmoor ponies appeared out of the mist, walking slowly through the trees, eating.

And then, later, in farmland, we saw these chickens atop a muck heap which was spontaneously smouldering, leaving the air tinged with a slightly sweet smell of smoke. We sheltered from the wind and rain in an old church, the most isolated on Exmoor, eating boiled eggs and pork pies and cups of tea in the porch before continuing our journey back homewards.

A splendid, soul quenching, cobweb removing sort of a walk. And best of all, we set off and returned to our house on foot.

What a difference a month makes

This is my fourth week of work. The hardest yet. People have forgotten that I am new, I am starting to become part of the furniture. Which shows I am integrating well but also means things get quite hard. People cut you some slack when you can’t find something, or forget their name, or get  lost driving in Exmoor in your first week. Four weeks down the line and they forget you don’t know.

My life seems suspended in parts. There is the work, which thankfully is good, and seems to be going ok. Then there is weekends with my Husband which are amazing and feel like we are on honeymoon. And then there are the weeknights. Where I have plenty to do but I miss London and my friends something terrible. I miss the life I used to lead: friends and fashion and vintage clothes and swanky bars and high heels and wearing boots to work. I feel old and middle-aged here, caught in the middle because we are married but not parents. I feel like I don’t really fit in. Sometimes I want to stop the roundabout and get off. Go back to my old, comfortable life. But, oh yes, that’s right. I chose to come here.

Somerset definitely has it’s own time. And it’s own ways. Pre-payment electricity meters. Oil tanks instead of gas bills. A council who collect recycling once a week, insist they know your postcode better than you do, who refuse to collect your refuse because “it’s not in a black bag” and who charge you extra to collect garden waste. There are plenty of great things down here but some days, when the bank has eaten your husband’s card for the 3rd time in almost as many weeks and you have pmt and it is London Fashion Week and you were invited to loads of shows and parties but couldn’t go, it doesn’t seem as great as London did.

But then, we’ve had two sunny weekends of two sunny days in a row. And I sunbathed. And wore raybans and red lipstick. And took photos of the snow that we had in the week.

Exmoor snow 4

Exmoor snow 3

Exmoor snow 2

Exmoor snow 1

{images by me}