July settles in with a shimmer of heat, slowing life to a gentle, unhurried pace and making water as essential as air. Afternoons slip away beneath the parasol, with a novel in hand, until the warmth lulls me into a soft summer nap. Record-breaking temperatures render any effort after 9 a.m. almost impossible. I take advantage of the early hours, working at the bench from 6 to 9 a.m., savouring the last breaths of cool morning air.

After breakfast, I sink my feet into a bucket of ice-cold water for instant relief. Even SPF 50 melts away under the relentless sun, and although a golden tan sounds lovely, it's far too sweltering for comfort. I find myself longing for Scotland’s familiar moderation, where the sun is kind but never harsh. Evening meals are spent outdoors, chasing the faintest breeze and wishing for the gentle embrace of a few degrees less, Scotland’s true summer signature.

Even sleep is elusive, the nights heavy with lingering warmth, as summer’s heat clings to the slight darkness and birds are quiet for just a few short hours.

June has slipped by almost unnoticed, its final days arriving too soon. Warmth builds gently beneath soft summer clouds that occasionally weep gentle showers. Swallows dart and swoop, tirelessly feeding their young, while hedge sparrows coax their fledglings into flight. Sheep, now shorn, graze contentedly, almost lost behind thick, leafy hedgerows bursting with growth. Farmers work the fields, cutting sweet hay as red kites wheel overhead, their sharp eyes searching for their next tasty morsel. The countryside hums with ever-changing activity, each day offering something new to marvel at. Thank you, June; you are always such a delightful month.

It’s a morning ritual that wraps seven o’clock in a hush of comfort, offering a peaceful pause before the day begins. Outside, summer rain drifts in on warm, fluffy clouds, its gentle rhythm tapping a melody on the porch roof. Sharing this quiet moment with Robert and our cat Finesse fills the morning with calm, love, and serenity.

Summer Solstice Greetings.

Last night, darkness hung above, and shadows drifted high overhead. The birds paused only briefly before their songs began to fill the air again around 3 a.m. Now, sunlight streams in, and a gentle summer breeze whispers through the lush green leaves.

Today is one of those cherished days, woven with joyful memories of our engagement... when Robert knelt on one knee in a restaurant in Kefalonia so many years ago, when I said yes.

Since then, we’ve made a tradition of marking the Summer Solstice and what we call our 'Engagemoon'...melding the magic of that moment with the wonders of Midsummer.

Yesterday I had my first puncture in years; thankfully, my trusty toolkit was at the ready. Of course, finding a nice wee spot to start with coffee and cake, then meandering through peaceful countryside. Watching crows spar with red kites overhead, while slender sheep grazed contentedly, now free of their fleecy coats. A warm summer breeze carried bird song in every direction.

A good start to the week.

Sometimes the simplest days turn out to be the most magical, no plans, just the ease of the moment. After a delicious meal, we let the evening settle in, listening to gentle music and enjoying the outdoors as pipistrelles put on an aerial display, their delicate silhouettes darting through the dusk. Bonny wee bats indeed.

Then is was time to blow out the candles!

Looking for a summer read? not bought my new novel yet?

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Tx

There’s no such thing as bad weather—only the wrong clothing.

The rain deepened every shade of green around us, making the landscape glow. Our boots and waterproof trousers gleamed with droplets from the long grass, but underneath, we stayed warm and dry.

There was no view at the top, just a blanket of low cloud above our heads, but the air was thick with the scent of blossoms, as if honey drifted through the mist.

Wonderful.

June, the month famous for 'seasonal shifts', brings the astronomical transition into summer in the northern hemisphere. Also, its name, Juno, is derived from the Roman goddess of marriage, so a highly popular time for weddings.
For us, it's a special month as we love Midsummer and we got engaged on Midsummer (many years ago now).

So it certainly is a month to reflect on love and enjoy continuing love.

Here today, it's dull and drizzling on the first day of the new month, but not letting that dampen spirits or cast shadows over happiness. Days like this are perfect for being at the workbench, enjoying long, lazy coffee breaks with my wonderful husband, sitting under the porch surrounded by the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, watching the low clouds and rain drift on a slow summer's breeze

Awake at six, kick-starting the day with fresh carrot and orange juice while prepping my bike for an early ride. Gentle clouds and a teasing drizzle dotted my glasses and dampened my shoulders, but the climb was worth every drop. At the top, savouring the view with hot, milky coffee and homemade breakfast bars. This week’s batch is laced with mixed nuts, fruit, lemon curd, and pistachio butter. Pure bliss.

Back home now, feeling energised and pleased with myself for getting up these hills again

I love being out in the hills, pushing myself on the mountain bike, making my way through dense, damp patches of undergrowth. At the moment, everything is growing and trying to secure its space. Sometimes a big dip in the path, hidden by the undergrowth, catches me unawares, and boof, I am off, another bruise to the bum. A wee slap in the face from the occasional tree branch, and always the exhilaration of the push-up. Apart from my occasional burst of heavy breathing on some higher ground, all around me is the excitement of bird song.

This morning, feeling pretty fit, I decided to take a higher route I hadn't taken for some months. The path was no more than a deer track, heavily overgrown but alive with succulent greens and an abundance of bright, honey-scented broom. Without warning, a Doe sprang up about a metre in front of me, darting off to the right, disappearing into the dense trees while a buck shot off to the left. I slammed on the brakes hard to avoid the most beautiful fawn sleeping in the long grass. As quickly and silently as I could, I turned and beat my own track back down the hill, although I wanted to stay and look at the fawn; it was not my place to interfere, but it brought a huge smile to my face and a feeling of delightful calm to have seen them.

Taking another route onwards until it was time to stop for breakfast, well earned it was too.
Here was my wee breakfast stop, before it was time to head back, before the clouds burnt off, and I am up here frying in the sunshine.

I love the heady scent of wild garlic drifting on the summer breeze as I cycle by, bluebells, and pink campion swaying alongside forget-me-nots. I never tire of the sound of a woodpecker tapping rhythmically in the trees. The sun is warm, but that crisp northern nip lingers in the air. Feeling happy and content.

The journey ended with a ride past the old castle on the outskirts of our village. The old romantic in me feels an Outlander moment come to life.

It was a surprisingly cold morning for this time of year, the sky shifting constantly with ever-changing clouds. Still, it felt wonderful to be back on the mountain bike. Cycling out of the village to the next one to cast my vote, then looping home through open fields along old drove roads now overgrown with grass. Meandering slowly through sheep with their bleating lambs, careful not to disturb them, though they only watched with their usual, steady gaze. Along the way, I came across this magnificent horse chestnut tree, ancient and towering. The closer I got, the louder the mysterious humming that seemed to pulse from within its trunk, and all around the full branches of bloom. For a moment, I nearly reached out to touch its gnarled, weathered trunk, half-expecting to be whisked back in time. ( Of course, the logic in me, knowing full well the tree was alive with bees).

It’s been a while since my last update, but all is well. I’ve been caught up in decorating, a task both rewarding and, admittedly, not my favourite. I’ve been mixing shades of olive, fresh white, and touches of knotted twine...though never all in the same room! Progress has been joyfully interrupted by stretches of warm, sunny weather, prompting me to swap the paintbrush for shorts, reading glasses, and a good book under the parasol, iced drink in hand. Dining alfresco has returned, accompanied by the incredible aerial displays of swallows, the gentle bleating of lambs, the hum of bumblebees, and the busy tapping of woodpeckers.

It's a tough life I have, but I carry on always with a smile.

The scent of damp grass drifts across the fields on a tranquil, sun-dappled morning. Sheep meander silently, while birdsong rings out in the stillness. 6.30 this morning was a perfect start to the day, watching sunlight climb over the treetops and feeling the gentle warmth spread. This month has been a busy one, each project completed bringing a quiet happiness and the joy of reflecting on my achievements.

March has been a month of gratitude. Watching Robert heal and grow stronger each day has been a constant source of joy. With April on the horizon, I look forward to more time outdoors, joining Robert in his rehabilitation and embracing new adventures together. After a challenging spell, it feels especially important to seek out the peace and energy nature offers, helping us stay grounded. In a world that often feels chaotic, holding onto a quiet corner of calm and contentment is more essential than ever. Farewell, March.

Another glorious morning unfolds as sunlight gently warms the dew-laden fields. Sheep meander lazily, a woodpecker taps rhythmically in the distance, and the air is alive with birdsong. Steam curls from our cups of tea while we snack on homemade cereal bites—this week's flavour is chocolate chips, dates, and mango. A lovely start to the day.

The weekend begins with a crisp, frosty morning, everything coated in white, the air biting and fresh. Sunlight pours from a clear blue sky, sending steam curling off the shed roof and making the dew-soaked grass glisten like diamonds. Out in the field, the sheep grow rounder each day, and soon the high, sweet bleats of new lambs will fill the air. It’s a beautiful time of year.

We now have three blackbird nests just outside the bedroom window. At 4 a.m., our own Pavarotti sang his heart out, filling the early darkness with song. By 6:20, I was up and climbing the hill for a morning walk. The sky was unremarkable, and even the sheep were quiet, yet the landscape still felt beautiful and serene. Heading back now, feeling invigorated, time for a well-earned cup of tea.

Happy March! As the old saying goes, "In like a lion, out like a lamb." March ushers in the dramatic shift from winter’s chill to the gentle promise of spring. We’re all looking forward to brighter days and the renewal that spring brings into our lives.

Whatever your new month brings, I hope it is full of love, happiness and giggles. Have a lovely Sunday, and a wonderful month ahead.

Much love to our friends and family.