The Quiet Season
Growing up, we always had a full house. On top of my 5 siblings, there always seemed to be extra people about. If it wasn't my best friend Nate, there were my older brothers' friends or kids that always seemed to work for my dad, cousins or aunts or uncles or my parent's friends we call "Aunt" and "Uncle".
A few weeks ago, we had some volunteers staying with us from London. Over the course of their stay, they had been greeted various times by a string of neighbours walking into the house without knocking, the handyman who comes in and makes himself a cup of tea when he is on site, our former cleaner who came in to see the cats and a friend dropping off sheep into the field unannounced. From their perspective, busy Peckham had nothing on the Gartur Stitch kitchen in terms of footfall. There is rarely a day where we don't see someone -- which is strange considering we live down on one and a half mile road in the middle of nowhere. It is busy here, full and how we like it.
However, we are coming to the end of the busy season Last week we found ourselves alone in the house for the first time in months. As much as I love the busy, I had found myself craving the quiet. Walking around in pants, having cereal for dinner, eating in front of the TV, leaving the dishes until tomorrow - all small but delicious novelties after months of hosting event after event. With no more retreats, only two workshops and a handful of farm tours lined up until the spring just being the five of us seems quite decadent.
With so much of our income dependent on events, it feels a bit daunting to intentionally slow down. We've been going back and forth about running a slew of Christmas events and January workshops and filling up the house yet again, but we keep pulling back, knowing that resting now will pay dividends in the future. So we hunker down and enjoy the quiet.
But if you do come by, best to knock as you never know who will be walking around in their pants!!
