Winter, when will she arrive?

Was that a swan I hear?  It seems a little early yet, a walk down to the damn a little later to see in-case it was.  Usually, when the swans arrive on the damn, so has the intensity of winter; though looking outside my window right now with its beautiful autumn sky, winter shows no sign of being in a hurry to arrive.

Though the nights and mornings have become quite chilly and the wood fire has been burning for the last few nights, the rains have failed to unvail their urgency of need.  We dare not look at the tanks, for we are living on faith and prayer we will get through.

Yesterday the bureau told us there would be rain......now they say Saturday and Sunday is looking more promising.  Picking will be held off till Monday, in hope, when there will be no choice but to start. 

The mornings are beautiful when they are foggy and fresh, I find it quite invigorating.  Just wish the vigoration would express itself in my assignments that I am currently tackling....oh the joys of a matured aged University student.  One day I am sure I will sit back and ask myself 'what in the world was I thinking'.

So unfortuantely with assignments due, dear old Mammy's yet again has been neglected.

I suppose I had better get back to it!  It was just nice to sit a write a wee bit in the quite of the morning, with the girls back at school today.  Do not get me wrong, love them being home, but you realise just how quite the house is when they are not home and the husband is outside somehwere.  That morning cup of coffee just seems to be somehow extra special, personal and compliments the place of your own quite time.   That is until the stupid gas-guns go off....far out!, who put that one so close to the house.  Excuse me while I go off on the war-path.

Till next time, have a quite, reflective cup of coffee for me, in your favourite spot. x