The weather is warmer, the days are longer and all of sudden Adam and I have the urge to garden. I’ve been picking flowers from our little patch of green for a good few weeks now. I enjoy wandering around spotting what’s coming to life and picking out what species I recognise. It feels like every time I go for a look something new has started to flower, or a plant I didn’t notice during the winter is suddenly bursting with new leaves.
While Adam appreciates having fresh flowers in the house, it’s the practical plants that get his heart racing. We picked up some pots of fresh herbs, specifically rosemary, mint and thyme, when we did the grocery shopping last week and they’re now sitting proudly at the window that’s in front of our kitchen sink.
I could tell yesterday was going to be a good day, even before I got out of bed. There was a bright glint creeping in behind the closed curtains and the birds outside were chirping their happy little songs.
The morning was cool and clear and beams of sunlight were falling in just the right places, giving the landscape outside of the windows that magical warm weather feel. Adam and I had decided a few days earlier we’d go for a lovely long walk on Sunday, and it was like Mother Nature was rewarding us for our decision.
It’s been grey and drizzly over the last few weeks but on Saturday the sun finally came out and stuck around all day! It was the perfect way to start a long weekend. Adam and I are currently in Gibraltar (more on that later this week!), but is there anything better than a bright, cool winter’s day? The clouds, haze and woodsmoke from cosy fireplaces gets swept away to reveal a landscape in muted but rich colour.
When you move to a new place it takes time to settle in. You don’t instantly know where the best place is to do grocery shopping or buy a nice coffee, but after a little while you start to find your way around. Things that previously seemed challenging or that made you second-glance or stare in awe, suddenly become normal.
When I worked as a journalist in south-western New South Wales one of my favourite things to do while driving long, straight roads for hours at a time was to look out for the names of farms. The name seemed to the give the property a personality and I liked the concept of the land almost becoming a member of the family.
A festive property sign west of Hay, NSW, Australia.
What I’ve found in England and particularly Malvern, is that names aren’t just reserved for farms. Many suburban houses have names, often dating back centuries. Houses are sometimes named after the family that originally lived in the home or the surrounding landscape. I also love that mail is addressed to the house name. It isn’t 16 Smith Street, rather ‘Valley View Cottage’, 16 Smith Street. Perhaps it’s the daydreamer in me, but I just think that’s utterly delightful.
There are so many different types of name plaques too: painted ceramic slabs adorning house fronts, wrought iron signs on gates, wooden plaques, sandstone etchings or sometimes the name’s just simply painted on the side of the house.
I’ve always wanted to live in a house that has a name. The house Adam and I are living in does – so it’s a bit of a dream come true! Our downstairs neighbours even have a beautifully painted watercolour of the original house before it was split into three separate apartments.
I’ve been lucky enough to do a bit of travel, but I must admit I’ve never really noticed en masse houses with names anywhere except the U.K. Does your house have a name? What is it, and do you know the story behind it?!
I nervously watched the weather forecast all last week. Snow had been predicted across a large part of England and on Thursday afternoon it started to fall.
I was incredibly excited, as it was first snow I’ve seen in England. There’s just something about those flakes of ice that puts a smile on my face. I didn’t see snow until I was 21, working and living as a television reporter in south-west New South Wales. While driving with a cameraman to our shoot location for the day, I mistook hail netting on apple orchards for the real stuff!
I’ve visited the Australian High Country dozens of time over the last decade to both ski and play in the snow, but seeing it fall naturally on the place where I’m living is something I’ll never forget. It didn’t settle in Malvern itself on Thursday afternoon, but standing in our front yard watching the snow gracefully descend to the ground, was enough to keep me happy.
You can imagine my smile then, when the next morning Adam and I woke up to everything covered in white! It was only an icing sugar dusting – nowhere near enough for a snowman, but enough to fully cover the ground, roads and roofs of all the houses nearby.
Adam had an early start at work, so I took advantage of being awake at the crack of dawn to rug up and head out for a wander around. There was a brief, but beautifully colourful sunrise that I was lucky enough to see before the clouds rolled on in again.
My morning walk was just wonderful – there was the scent of wood fuelled fires in the air and I passed ruddy cheeked children on their way to school with big grins on their face (much like me!) taking in the snowy scene.
One excited little Aussie!
The snow was all melted by the weekend and there’s no more forecast in the next week or so, but fingers crossed we see another flurry or two before the winter’s out!
“Old houses, I thought, do not belong to people ever, not really, people belong to them.” – Gladys Taber
One of my favourite things about living in England is the houses. Every village, town and city has its centuries of history preserved in the homes its residents live in. While Australia has a small amount of architectural history, it pales in comparison to places like the U.K.
I’m pretty sure I’ve pointed out a home I’ve liked to Adam almost ever day since our arrival. Being a sucker for a good story, I get so much delight out of thinking about all the people who’ve lived in these buildings over the years. What were their names, what did they do, what food did they cook and what flowers did they plant in the garden?
Chimney pot envy.
That door!
Can’t you just imagine sitting in a slightly worn, super squishy armchair with a good book, roaring fire and mug of tea in front of some of those front windows?! #bliss
Last week I celebrated my birthday and as part of his gift to me Adam bought us National Trust membership. I’d been ogling at some of the properties the Trust owns in the lead-up to our departure from Australia and we recently had a wonderful stay in a National Trust cottage in the Lake District, so I was thoroughly chuffed at the present.
After a scan of the thick book of attractions that was sent to us, we quickly decided to head to a property about a 20 minute drive from Malvern, Croome – which for many years was the home of the Earls of Coventry and more recently the site of a secret World War Two airbase, RAF Defford.
The main house is stunning and I must confess I immediately felt like I’d stepped onto the set of a Downton Abbey episode!
The front approach to Croome Court – can you spot Santa’s sleigh and reindeer?!
Wattle and Ash 