The change happened so gradually and subtle, it almost went unnoticed. Only last week we barely used the front room and if we did then huddled up under a pile of spare duvets. This week the blinds were up, the blankets tossed aside and the windows ajar; inviting the breeze in like open arms. The cool air carried the sweet scent of the first blossoming hyacinths that had emerged from their pots by the windowsill deep into the house. Their aroma so delicate yet reassuring like a promise whispered into the wind.
We too emerged, after barricading ourselves inside the house for the last weeks; taking the odd gander up the oaked lined ally in the park to hunt some snowdrops. On Sunday I accidentally walked outside without a jacket! That’s a statement in itself really, yet what struck me even more was how I didn’t notice until I had reached the corner of the street; dashing back under the incoming hail.
The notion of the warmer season is still fragile, it turns out. Undoubtably though every coming sunny afternoon will gradually shift our rhythm until our park outings are manifested once again into our daily schedule.
These are the days of pure promise and nothing yet confirmed. When the sun slowly regains its strength and every now and then you can catch a breeze that carries its unexpected warmth. Splattering pops of colour all over the grey palate of January, spring bulbs emerge, trees begin to blossom and that déjà vu feeling of everything being possible returns. Suddenly you’re so full of energy that all your dreams really do seem within reach. While this energetic spurt after months long hibernation might not last long, it is still infectious. Like a feverish child after a dose of calpol. Yesterday we were lounging like sloths under blankets; today we throw of the covers and run around in circles. Our nose and cheeks rosy from the chill that undoubtedly still grips the air and our hair windswept, but our hearts undeterred: for they know spring is coming!
Inside our home pops of colour appear again too. Once the decoration decadence of Christmas had been packed away it was nice to live with a blank canvas for a while and let the rooms breathe, but now the nesting senses are refreshed. From the many experimental natural dye pots that I’ve been sweating over these past winter weeks a sunny bunting has emerged for the window; underneath it on the dining room table the narcissi bloom and in the living room the hyacinths are bowing their heads under the weight of their opening buds.
I know it is probably far too soon to ditch the winter coat, but maybe not too soon to write a to do list for the yearly deep clean and sew a new cushion cover that’ll make the sofa blush.
Oh & H – a homemakers column. A weekly sharing of life’s little stories between keeping a tiny terraced house and tending to an overgrowing allotment.
Oh and I almost forgot:
The pink and blush rectangular cushion cover peeking out from behind the hyacinth pot is made following this lovely tutorial from purlsoho with some vintage pink cotton and a leftover piece of natural dyed cotton. The roses cushion cover is made with this IKEA fabric & the yellow and pink spring bunting is from my Etsy shop.