Brace yourself, it’s January. After the tinsel and mince-pie haven of Christmas comes decoration-less January. I defy anyone (mostly myself) to make January look good. But try we must. There is a red alert on, a storm howling down my chimney making the living most uneasy. Memories of last year’s worst storm that took 160 slates from the roof and left my little toddler with a memory of scary storm are in mind. Today, there’s no school. The county is closed for business. And I arose early to fix the place up for the day ahead. It takes planning to get through a day as such. Pre-empting krankiness, what to eat, who sleeps when, what to do with little boys who just want out. Indeed, what to do with their mommy who just wants out. Out into the world, ney, even the village. Away from the same day, in and out. For the chance meeting of a neighbour, a friend, a flower.

Package it as you might, January is difficult. But in that howling wind, we have to listen for a while to hear what it is teaching us. For there is a lesson, there’s always a lesson. What is this seasonal teacher pointing out? Shhhh, the ground is sleeping. The farmer needs rest. There’s a busy spring ahead. The bones are tired. The cows are heavy with calf and need shelter and feeding indoors whilst the ground sleeps.

Indoors, line up distractions; activities, movies, soup, good music and phones calls. As it turns out, city or country, we’re all in this January together. So brace yourself and do as the storm says. Rest.