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A First Christmas Eve

by Lydia December 24, 2024

We and our house are still finding out about each other, getting used to our new relationship. But one thing I have been certain about for some time is that this house wants to be a family home. It has been a while since she has been that, and I am certain she appreciates it. Whatever has happened inside these walls, at some point children have been happy here. I have heard their footsteps, running in the hallway in the old part of the house, on more than one occasion. There have been one or two other things, too. Most of all, though, there is the feeling that this house wants to be loved for who she is, to be a part of a family. When I recently picked up a rocking horse for the girls from an auction, it immediately looked so right in their bedroom, as if it had always been there. I can’t explain it, just that it felt appreciated.

I was speaking about this yesterday to my family who live at Stempster, in Caithness. Their house also has history, and a back catalogue of characters (they have managed to do some research into the house and its previous inhabitants – something I am hoping to do for our own house when time allows). We were discussing how houses desperately want to be homes – they want to be lived in, properly.

Euan had just returned to the sitting room from being in the hallway, and reported that the door handle to my Mum and Dad’s bedroom had been turning on its own (we were all accounted for). “It’s the time of year,” said my sister, cheerfully, “these things happen at Christmas.”

At Christmas, a couple of years ago, when our young niece Ailsa was staying there, everyone at Stempster heard as clear as day a baby crying. My brother and his wife went to check on Ailsa, only to find her fast asleep. There have been other happenings.

It isn’t a surprise that many cultures have a tradition of winter tales, of telling stories together round the fire, often with a eerie theme. Perhaps there is a thinning at this time of year, making the past feel closer. I’m not even sure it is as clear as the past being relived, I think it is more that a house amplifies what you expect to find, and what you share with it.

When I was younger, I used to love the tales of animals being able to speak on the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve. I am sure that those tales contributed to my lifelong love of and fascination with folklore. I wonder if the same could be true of buildings. On the stroke of midnight, what might our new home share with us? What histories, what thoughts, what hopes? I hope that she knows that we’re doing our best to put her right, and that we look forward to sharing many happy years with her.

A  toddler with her back to the camera, stares at a Christmas Tree in the window in front of her, pointing at it in wonder.
Elfi gazing at the smaller Christmas Tree, in the snug window.

December 24, 2024
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Two dogs pose on a wooden and red-carpeted staircase.
A Murder of Crows

Dog Indie Band Photo

by Lydia April 14, 2023

Jess (left) and Orlando (right) bringing a certain kind of attitude.

April 14, 2023
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A woman and her daughter smile for the camera in front of a lawn, some trees, and a large white house. It is bright, but looks a little breezy.
A Murder of CrowsCrowditch

Catching Up

by Lydia April 13, 2023

We are just catching our breath from a busy last fortnight, just in time to rush into another busy month.

Last week, we were all up at Stempster. Euan spent a happy two or three days (mostly) in the Wild Wood, taking down fifty-two and a half trees (the half being some serious surgery to a victim of lightning). Auri spent many a delighted hour on the swing and generally wreaking havoc outside, Elfi was her usual cheerful self, and Scapa got in some much-loved beach walks.

There are several photographs to share, which I suspect will crop up at odd times over the coming few days. But enough of us. How are you all?!

April 13, 2023
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A decorated Christmas Tree with warm lights stands in a corner of a room. To the right is a table with a small Araucaria heterophylla and a hand-made snowman made from a glass jar and cotton wool, with a green knitted scarf and a paper top hat.
Crowditch

Croymas Has Begun!

by Lydia December 5, 2022

Scapa has just returned from her walk and, noticing I had a blanket ready to put over my knees on the settee once I’d settled down with my cup of tea, pointedly stood there staring at it and me until I ended up opening it out and lifting it up so she could curl up under the blanket herself. No room for me.

There was a thick frost on the ground this morning, and it still hasn’t entirely shifted as we step into the afternoon. We are due snow this week – Wednesday, apparently – which is all very exciting. Auri, who at nearly four entirely equates snow with Christmas-time for obvious reasons, can’t wait and keeps describing the snowball fights we’re going to have. There are a series of seasonal milestones that are all wonderfully jumbled up in her head right now: Pip being born; Tonton Neeps, Tatie Aurélie and Baby Cousin Ailsa arriving; Christmas; snow. There are probably more. I was trying to explain the concept of ‘Christmas-time’ as opposed to ‘Christmas Day’ to her this morning, when she asked why we already had our tree up if it wasn’t Christmas yet.

We bought our tree and decorated it on Friday. Auri chose it, and a grand job she did, too. Fortunately, Scapa has never been too interested in Christmas Trees other than sniffing them and paying attention to certain ornaments; unfortunately, she has no idea what her tail does at any given time, so there have been a handful of ornaments brought down already due to pre-walk excitement.

So, Croymas has certainly started! And it is a particularly special one this year. Crowmas will officially begin on the 23rd December, when we drive up to Stempster for a few nights. All in all, we have an exciting month ahead of us.

December 5, 2022
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A rose in full bloom in the foreground, with trees and a house behind.
A Murder of Crows

Hysterically Good

by Lydia September 25, 2022

The girls and I had an hysterically good weekend up at Stempster, while Euan was away representing the family at a wedding in Dumfries and Galloway. At one point I was actually crying with laughter during an afternoon of games, which included the world’s most hilarious game of Cluedo (there’s a reason that it’s not recommended for three-year olds). Auri, meanwhile, also had an amazing time making crafts, riding on a train, and generally running rings round everyone; while Scapa thoroughly enjoyed exploring some new (to her) aspects of the Stempster vicinity. All in all, the perfect way to see in the new season.

A rose in full bloom in the foreground, with trees and a house behind.
September 25, 2022
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A little girl, fascinated, looks at the bird skull she is holding up to the camera.
Crowditch

Skull Treasure

by Lydia September 9, 2022

From a few weeks ago: Auri and I love looking for treasure on the beach, and this skull was a particularly exciting find.

A little girl, fascinated, looks at the bird skull she is holding up to the camera.
September 9, 2022
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A cottage garden. Yellow, white and orange flowers in the foreground are lit by the early morning sun shining through the trees in the background.
Nature

Stempster Cottage Garden

by Lydia September 2, 2022

Early morning September sunshine in the cottage garden at Stempster.

A cottage garden. Yellow, white and orange flowers in the foreground are lit by the early morning sun shining through the trees in the background.
September 2, 2022
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Elosa

Take one Southern and one Northern. Throw in two determined (very) young women and their four-legged guardian and partner in crime. Immerse in the Highlands.

#ElmHunt #ElmWatch 2024 art Auri Autumn beach Black Isle books Caithness Christmas creativity dogs Elfi elm Euan fog food frost garden habits Highlands home house Lydia lyrics mushrooms news notebook Osa rain reading Scapa school Scotland seasons snow Stempster sun Tove Jansson trees walks weather woods writing

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