Catching up after Christmas.

Crisis at Christmas!  There always has to be one, doesn't there? I had one of my sons and his family staying here and another son and his family due on Boxing Day, plus all the usual last-minute shopping for food and gifts - and then the house struck with a bit of a setback! The hot-water tap in the bathroom sink seized up.  Plumber needed and it's the 22nd of December!
However, I rang the feller who installed my shower and - yes!  he agreed to be here at 11'ish the next morning.  And he was - phew! One hour later, new circlip fitted for a temporary repair, a warning to me and my visitors not to be too violent when turning the tap on and off and one cup of tea consumed - crisis averted.
Then on the 27th I went down with 'flu! Just what you need at this time of year, sneezing, coughing, feeling rough, rough, rough.
And rumbling along in the background was the concern about my companion dog, Zac. The medication he had been taking for almost 12 months suddenly upset his internal workings; a swift visit to the vet and a change of medication meant that he was once more out of pain, but very inflamed and stiff in his hind legs. I am presently trying him on a Glucosamine, Chondroitin and MSM combination which is just starting to ease the stiffness.
On a good day, I drove to the beach where he was very happy to meet up with some old friends and enjoy a gentle stroll  with me (well wrapped up) along the firm sand. It was mid-afternoon with a low sun, quite windy and rather grey, but so good to be outside.

As a relief from the grey, wet & windy days we have been suffering for so long in this region, I've been looking back to the photos I was taking a year ago.

A late afternoon stroll over the clifftops near to Rame Head:

The Hellebores in my garden were flowering beautifully:

 and the Snowdrops;

 and the Heathers:

and the pink shrub above the Heathers: (anyone know its name?) 

Today, there are no Hellebore buds to be seen; the Snowdrops are just peeping above the earth, no sign of the Heathers (or the pink things!) and the whole garden is water-logged.

Living high up, on the edge of Bodmin Moor, I am well used to fog, rain and winds, but even I am fed up with the constancy of it; I'm longing for dry days, pretty flowers, bees droning, butterflies fluttering and the chance to sit outside in the sunshine.

Please!

Oh and I'd rather like to get my camping gear back into use again!