There is peace to be found in slowing down for a while.
Tim and I had a plan last Saturday and we ditched it over our first cup of tea, deciding not to go out and dash around running errands as soon as we were up. 'Later' was Tim's wise suggestion.
It is so quiet here and we know how blessed we are to have this haven.
Tim headed outside to potter in the workshop and I got my baking things out. Tim's Grandma used to make rock cakes and I wanted to have a go. I stood at the kitchen counter, rubbing butter into the dry mixture as I looked out across the trees and listened to the birds. I could feel Tim's Grandma with me.
In hindsight, I made the mixture too wet and in the oven, my craggy mounds spread into flying saucers. We stoically tried to eat a few and then over this week have had great fun watching the squirrels perform gymnastics as they visited our garden, before disappearing over the back fence holding their cake prizes.
This sparked a desire to foster more moments of slowing down, and we have bought different types of flour to have a go at making bread. Standing at the kitchen counter, watching nature through the window, accompanied by our old Welsh clock ticking on the wall, as we knead dough is peaceful.
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