I started writing this last Friday, the day before Storm Desmond showed up.....Have I told you that this house feels like a boat at the moment? Not that it's moving, just that it sits here at the head of the valley with it's stern to the prevailing wind and rain which slams into it as it rushes down from the fells and it sounds like crashing waves. In front the track becomes a river; cutting channels in the fallen leaves which never got dry enough to crunch through . The land rises steeply at the back where a tortured, pollarded Sycamore holds bird feeders that swing out almost horizontal in the wind and the woodpecker clings on like a trapeze artist; the only bright thing out there (recently I saw bullfinches who were pretty snazzy too but preferred nettle seeds behind the oil tank to swinging about for peanuts). It has rained for days and days and days *** Here I was going to insert a big rant about MPs voting to bomb Syria and Climate Change and biblical floods but I think I'll leave it to your imagination. It's frightening and frustrating and I despair ***So after I wrote that, things went crazy and after getting home on in gale force winds, clearing fallen trees from the lane, we battened the hatches and spent all of Saturday feeding the stove, catching drips in buckets and feeling helpless to help but guiltily cozy as the disaster unfolded just a mile down the road. Twitter was the only way to make sense of it... real time posts as the water levels rose in Keswick, inching up the glass storm defense and eventually tipping over to inundate the town for the second time in 6 years. Now everything I was going to write seems self indulgent and ridiculous. We walked up Latrigg yesterday, as the day was insultingly sunny and calm, and marveled at the scene below- Derwentwater and Bassenthwaite Lake joined in a continuous stretch of shimmery water - one lake to rule them all.It was beautiful and fascinating from a distance but back in the town I felt guilty and too ashamed to even take a picture of the river as people's homes and businesses were spilled out on to the pavements in muddy piles. It was horrible and reminded me of what I was going through this time last year; losing your home, no running water, mud. I wanted to help but it also made me painfully aware that I'm not yet a part of this community.Anyway, there is a fundraising page here and various collection centres for donations of food and clothing across Cumbria so hopefully by sharing this I will be doing what I can. I tried to drive to Braithwaite ( our closest village)  today, armed with a shovel and a yard brush to help the clear up but there was a digger clearing a landslide so I had to turn around. I'll try again tomorrow. Meanwhile my heart goes out to all those affected, I wish I could do more.Whenever I write a blog post I upload the photographs first with a vague idea of what I wanted to say but to be honest it's completely slipped my mind now! I think it was going to be a thing about how excited I was to have sold some work at the Great Print Exhibition, amongst such great company, followed by a mention that these cushions are now in my Etsy shop; I might even have been going to share the recipe for my wonderous cherry and almond cake...I wanted to write things about the fact that its a year ago exactly since I first saw this place and how that feels, and about how the cat now occasionally sits on me  which is cozy (until she bites) which makes me understand (almost) how easy it might be to turn in to a crazy cat lady if only to save on heating bills! The reason the cat sits on me could be that my daughter bought me a polar bear onesie as a surprise the other day and it makes hibernation even more tempting.But for now I think it's best to just be quiet, hope that the kettle boils soon and that the wind and rain settles down and gives us a break. Stay safe and warm where ever you are. x 

I'm sitting in here looking out at so much damp, lush greenness that it must be affecting my eyes ( you know the way if you stare at a green thing for long enough when you look away everything looks red?). Because of the way this place stands, tucked into the hillside, surrounded by massive Sycamore trees... high windows on one side and a huge glass sliding door on the other- there is very little sky and today it feels very much like a being in a cave (or a treehouse if you stand on tiptoe and look out of the high windows). Either way it's cold today so I'm remembering the heat wave of last week when we swam in the river Duddon at Birk's Bridge and drank instant coffee with a couple of young lads from Barrow who befriended us and left a warm feeling of wellbeing. Here's a confession; when I first saw two lads on motorbikes near the spot we'd chosen to swim, my heart sank...when did I become so mistrustful of other people and such an awful snob!? They turned out to be amazingly polite, friendly and considerate... shattering stereotypes I didn't know I had, because in fact it was they who made the friendly gestures- starting a conversation, offering us coffee, helping me find my way over the rocks through the beery water and generally appearing blind to differences of age, class or situation in a way that I am obviously not now that I'm middle aged and more self conscious than a teenager. Anyway, It was a lovely experience made memorable by a chance encounter with strangers.Life in Keswick continues to feel special, if a little unreal. At work I can see Robinson framed by watery glass or a circles of swifts and its hard to believe this is home now. There's just the thin line between solitude and loneliness and the moments when I wake from a nightmare in which I'm being chased around my old garden by the evil Kev Sayer as I frantically try to gather as many precious plants as I can carry! Its been almost 6 months.Last week I finally plucked up the courage to take some of my new prints to work and so some magic tents and white cottages have snuck in amongst the oil paintings in the wonderful Northern Lights Gallery. They've just started doing Own Art too, so my framed pieces are just eligible ( work has to be original or limited edition and priced between £100 and £2500)In between making pictures of various shelters. from tents to imaginary towers, I have been working on some needle felted alpacas for Alpacaly ever after.  who have recently had their Kickstarter project funded and are pretty funny and amazing people. I helped out a bit on shearing day and came home with a bag of fleece to attempt felting experiments. Washed and set out to dry on the bench it looked like some disgusting old wigs but just over 4 hours of vicious stabbing later some alpacaish creatures started to emerge... here is number two with his friend the Earth Bear. Now... how to price something that takes nearly 5 hours to make? The Bear is currently for sale in my Etsy shop for an amount that wouldn't even pay me minimum wage.... grab him quick before I come to my senses!And finally... what do you think of this new design? I'm planning to get some silk or thin cotton printed up to make scarves, this is one of the designs from an original cyanotype drawing that is now in the gallery.  

Yesterday the log man came; so today the hungry stove is happily ticking away with a belly full of sweet smelling wood. It feels so different here, although less than a hundred miles West of "home" - the log man gave me a goats' cheese in return for 6 bantam eggs and we discussed the work of Kaffe Fassat, needlefelting and ceramic design over a cup of tea and home made custard creams...so civilized!Anyway, after what seemed like a lifetime the internet has finally started to work this week (did they have to hand craft each wire from spun gold? What is going on with these companies?!) so I feel as though I am actually living here now...my enforced period of exile from real life is over and already it is the middle of March, snowdrops are making way for daffodils and I expect the Curlews have returned to the moor whether I'm there or not.Certainly Cumbria is living up to its reputation, with rain every day and gales that mean I've spent much of the week armed with a butter knife and a pack of tissue paper, seeking out drafts to stuff. The Yorkshire saying "shut the door! were you born in a barn?" makes sense once you actually do live in a barn and the wind is hitting you in the face even as you sit in front of the tv watching Miss Marple, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a mug of hot tea.Ah, but in between there are days that make you want to walk for miles and wish you'd brought a picnic. This is where I ended up on Monday afternoon having only intended to get some phone signal and take a few pictures of the sheep I'd just made...Wearing a dress, Doc Martens and a big woolly jumper, it was only after I got up from the ground (getting a good angle) that I saw the other walkers; head to toe in sensible "outdoor gear" and probably relieved that I stood up before they had to call Mountain Rescue. I'm sure they didn't spot my tiny sheep and thought I was just exhausted from the climb.And so I continue to try and draw, struggle with motivation and spend a lot of time looking out of the windows wondering about the meaning of it all. Luckily I have found a lovely part time job which helps me feel less of a hobo. Purely by chance I walked in to a gallery to buy my daughter a birthday present and got chatting to the owner who turned out to be looking for someone to help out. Its a lovely little gallery, Northern Lights Gallery, with some gorgeous work and right next door to a favourite cafe, the Square Orange.Tomorrow I'm meant to be going to a Beach Clean Up Day at Seascale, organised by an old school friend. Hopefully this nagging headache and dizzyness will have gone by then ... probably need more coffee!Yet again, a million thank yous to all of you for reading, sending messages and being so supportive; you're wonderful.Reading:- "The Fortress" Hugh Walpole  and "Tove Janson, Love and Work" Tuula KarjalainenListening To:- " Now is the Happiest Time of Your Life " by Deavid Allen/ Gong who died today.https://youtu.be/8svxSZiN1js