Our life in Wales

It takes a good couple of months to reestablish routines in new circumstances; especially since Afon doesn't start school here until September 1st.  Having him in school built a natural framework for the rest of the day that I benefited from.

I've gained weight, for several reasons: (1) without the tight schedule I've more free time in which to wander into the kitchen and nibble, and (2) I'm still getting accustomed to finding my "smart food choices" in this country.

It's difficult because as we don't yet have a car, we have to make trips to the store almost daily.  I can only carry back so much in my arms, and less if I have one of the children with me.  It is utterly out of the question for me to go to the store with both.

So I'm making use of this very nice service whereby Tesco delivers a smorgasbord of fresh groceries I order online.  What a Godsend!

I do laundry every day.  The minuscule laundry machine fits about a mouthful of things, which are subsequently dried in a tiny drier that ineffectively blows hot air around on the things and collects moisture in a tank to be emptied when it is full into the bathtub.  I get why people line dry over here.  (Hint: it's not just because they're green.)

The weather has been gorgeous; so far, only two days of rain.  It's much different than the Florida summer storms, which come and go like the tempers of tyrants.  No, here in summertime Britain, a sunshiny morning means a sunshiny day.  However, the rainy days have left me a bit bewildered about how people with babies get around without great inconvenience.  I know we ought to just buy a pram (stroller), but I'm trying to avoid spending too much money before immigration (and also of taking advantage of John's extreme generosity in trying to make me happy by getting me anything and everything I want).

Speaking of, I found the loveliest shop in town that is four months new, called {The Lost Sheep Company}.  It's run by the sweetest lady who, like me, has come in her later life under the spell of fibre arts and teaches courses on everything imaginable--from tatting to knitting to {dorset buttons}--in her comfortable and messy setup.  There are at least five spinning wheels in that shop, and one which is so old and blackened which she showed me, under its protective cover, and which she has only dared to try to clean with beeswax.

John let me do a two-hour spinning wheel course with her, and oh!!!  I could go into thrills like Anne Shirley right here telling you about the feel of that spinning wheel--just like I always knew, somehow.  I've never used one until that moment, and I'm sloppy at pinching and slow at feeding the thread, but it felt right.  Like returning to a place from memory.

The spinster left me and Roan in the shop to buy some lavender oil for a burn,  me carding wool while the sound of rain tucked us into a sort of pocket of dry stillness.  I wish I could write the smell of soap-washed, clean wool.  She welcomes visitors and people who pop in for a chat.  I will be returning often.