Day 26: Nearly There

More airport walking today...this is a short post as I'm waiting in London Gatwick to go on to Cyprus! Looking forward to the 22 degrees and a defrost. I didn't walk in much "weather" today - mostly trains and tubes and airports again- but London was definitely in thaw mode. It rained much of the snow away last night, and I hardly needed a coat outside (unlike the londoners around me who seemed to be under the illusion that we were in Norway or North Dakota, and dressed appropriately).

Just a note: I will have very little Internet access where I am in Cyprus, so I may be posting two weeks of walking all at one go when I return! More later!

Walk length: 1 hour

Day 25: Walking in London

Tonight I am in London, having traveled from Glasgow this morning. I always find myself wondering if it really would be simpler to drive, seeing as the entire journey from leaving my flat to arriving at my friend's place in the city takes roughly seven hours, and I could drive it in six. But that's not taking into account the fees for bringing a car into the city, not to mention the walking I would have missed out on!! 

I walked a lot today, but it is my least favourite of all walking. It goes in fits and spurts. From the house to the car...sit. From car to checkin queue (which, despite my printing my own boarding pass, saves nobody any time, me or the airline), then stand and do the queue shuffle. One step forward, one half-step, almost another, wait, wait....Then it's on to security (more shuffling) and a dander through the shops and food places, then sitting at the gate. Now the slow shuffle to get on (with the laughable precaution of placing my two bags into one for thirty seconds, then separating them as soon as I pass check in), to board, to unboard (deboard?), to gain luggage, and finally a proper walk to the train station....and more waiting. I could go on (train to tube, tube station to tube station, tube to flat), but you get the drift. I hardly feel like I had a proper walk, and yet the backpack and case combination adds a reckless gym element to my efforts today. I make it safely to my destination and rejoice in a cup of green tea and my current book, Blue Blood (an excellent read, memoirs of a NYPD cop named Eddie Conlon). One of my 2011 resolutions (why put it off?) is to read no repeat books. It may be a tough one, but I need to broaden my mind. Some books in my library I have read quite literally 8 or 10 times over. 

London is its usual fascinating blend of humanity and steel. Buildings everywhere, and the queue of people walking off the plane as well as those on the train are all in various shades of black. I don't understand why, in a nation and city where it gets dark ridiculously early in the winter, and the bitter cold weather can be discouraging before you even leave the house, everyone insists on dressing as though they're off to another funeral each morning. Makes me all the more determined to pursue and enjoy work that I love, and that draws out my talents. 

At any rate, the splashes of "story" appear everywhere. A Spanish couple chatter incessantly next to me, the entire way from Stansted to Tottenham Hale. I don't think the woman draws breath once. A man goes running down the stairs brandishing a bouquet of white roses, looking around wildly for...what? Who? The woman next to me on the tube sits with a beautiful bouquet in her hands, looking sad and miserable. Is she giving them or did she receive them? She sees me looking over and gets off at the next stop. A young girl comes running up as the doors are closing, leaps in, and then looks back to see her two friends on the other side of the glass. "get off at the next station!!" one shouts, laughing, and the girl on the train with me turns her head, face scarlet with embarrassment and a little smile for the humour of it.

It's all stories that I see in various phases but never see the end of. Did the man catch his train? Who were the lady's flowers for? Where were the young girls going and did they laugh all night at their friend's error? But I'm getting cold and my destination and hot cup of tea await, so I set aside my wonderings and arrive. 

Walk length: 1 hour

Day 24: Boxing Day...of Rest

Today is Boxing Day.  Normally, when it doesn't fall on a Sunday, we (me and Megs) lie around in our jammies and watch films all day long.  The goal is to recuperate from the incredibly difficult work of eating a huge Christmas meal and opening so many gifts the day before.  But today being the Lord's Day, I got to go worship with the saints at God's house, and afterwards go to the minister's family for lunch and then build a gingerbread house! 

I do really enjoy a day of being refreshed in soul, and not having responsibilities to work or even walk.  I did a miniature amount of walking (from the church to the manse and back, I think, is about it), but right now it's a time to sit back and rest and meditate on the sermon, which was absolutely excellent.  The story was of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, and I have always felt that some of the most amazing (and difficult, for us) verses in the Bible are in John 11.5-6:  "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.  So, when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed two more days in the place where He was."  Jesus' ways are so inscrutable at times.  But His goal is not to make us happy or please us or make all our trouble go away, right away.  His goal is the glory of God revealed in us.  And often that means that instead of nice, tidy, simple, incremental steps of growth, He uses something so powerful and so difficult and so heart-wrenching that we must grow swiftly, suddenly, shatteringly. 

And the result is more amazing that we can imagine.

Enjoy your rest and meditation on God today.

Day 23: Merry Christmas To You

"Mary gave birth to her firstborn Son and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear.  And the angel said to them, 'Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.  And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.'  And suddenly there was with the angle a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!'

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, 'Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.'  And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.  And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child.  And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them."                 -Luke 2.7-17

I was just thinking about this story tonight, about how the shepherds did a lot of walking on that Christmas night.  They heard good news about Jesus' birth, so they walked through their fields and to the place where He was; and then they walked on afterwards and told everyone they knew.  They went from house to house, 'making known the saying that had been told them'. 

I didn't feel like going for a walk tonight.  I felt like sitting inside watching my new DVD's that I got for Christmas and having another cup of tea.  But, I had no good reason for staying in, so I booted up and coated up and out I went.  The night was lovely - cold, but not too cold (I could breathe without it hurting).  The ice was like diamond crystals sparkling on the road; although a lot more slippery than that!  It was safer walking on the crunchy snow (it rained a little today, so everything was extra crunchy once the sun went down and it iced over).  The sky was clear, and I looked up and around to see bright, steadfastly shining stars.  There was one shining more powerfully than the others, which made me think of that one star the wise men followed.  How incredible was that, their following it for so long - months maybe - and perhaps having studied the stars for years, knowing somehow that it predicted a King's birth?  Beautiful.

So, I wish you all a very merry Christmas (as much as is left of it!) and may you continue the joy by worshiping this same Jesus in a place where His Word is proclaimed in truth.

Walk length: 20 minutes

Day 22: Happy Christmas Eve!

My walk today consisted of walking all around Carfin Grotto, in and out of the church, to take photos for a Christmas Eve wedding.  I think I did a lot of walking if you combine it - and considering I'm carrying all my camera equipment too, I'm more or less set in terms of exercise!

It was all that could be wished for in a Christmassy wedding.  The bride showed up in Ugg boots under her dress; the bridesmaid had a white furry stole around her shoulders; the snow was still lying, and frosting the trees, but the roads were clear for the wedding cars to get through; all the guests showed up in big heavy coats; the groom shivered his way through the snow photos; the sun shone, but didn't melt the snow. 

I dared a few shops, but the whole time I was muttering to myself, 'comfort and joy, comfort and joy', so that I remembered not to holler at the person or car or trolley in front of me.  I think I missed the ultimate in madness (not completely last minute, but late enough to miss those who congratulated themselves on nipping in early), but still I was thankful to get back to the wee flat. 

And now it's Christmas Eve night and after a hilarious laugh-session with the Fisher family (legend, can I just say, legend) I am ready to put on my fuzzy warm socks and pour myself a cup of tea (hot chocolate? coffee? the options are limitless) and read Harry Potter and, a little later, video-Skype with my family in the States.  Ahhhhh. 

Happy Christmas Eve to you all.

Day 21: Cookies & Cream

If walking through the icy slush a few weeks ago was like "walking in brown sugar", then today was like cookies & cream ice cream.  Not nearly so yummy, I'm sure (I didn't try it), but the walkways have become a combination of white snow, dark brown chunks of slush that have frozen into hard pieces, and little bits of grit sprinkled over everything.

My car had a spot of bother yesterday: something strange happened with the exhaust that made Otis suddenly roar like a racing car - and drive at about half the speed!.  My first port of call when 'something weird' happens with my car is to go around back and peer underneath to see if there is anything blatantly obvious.  (One time I panicked about my car breaking down only to find out that there was a huge tree branch that had lodged itself underneath the car's frame.  Kind of funny, later.)  So this time there was...something...definitely hanging at an odd angle, and I couldn't even find my exhaust pipe.  Not a good sign.

At any rate, the point of this story is that I rang up my favourite garage this morning (Brownsburn) and bless their hearts, on their last day before they finish for Christmas, they took it in and had a look at it, and are fixing it for me today.  These guys are legendary.  I can't tell you the number of times they've looked at and fixed my car before a holiday, before I leave on holiday, early in the morning, late at night...they're amazing. And they never complain or snap at me like I've had happen at other garages in the past - stuff like "There's no possible way we can take it, sorry" or "We've had your car for two days and we haven't had a chance to look at it yet".

So, after roaring my way through Airdrie at the early hours of the morning, I chose to walk back home.  The sun was just rising and pale oranges and pinks were tinting the clouds.  Everything is still completely outlined in snow, making every tree, bush, leaf, fencepost, housetop, and post office box a work of art.  I enjoyed my walk very much, even getting so warm that I didn't need my gloves and scarf.  Naturally after all that great exercise I was starving, so I went for a McDonald's breakfast.  Not exactly healthy, but it was sure good.  I think I'll go make some hot chocolate now and start packing for Cyprus!

Day 20: Handing Round Gifts

Today was the day I wandered around like Father Christmas with my trusty little red reindeer, Otis, helping me deliver parcels and good cheer to friends all over Airdrie.  We had good times.  We had slidy, whoooaaaaa, icy times.  We stuck together.  But at the end of the day Otis decided he was tired of doing all the work and...broke down.  :(  So, most of the walking I got to do today was from house to car, car to house, house to house.  It was an enjoyable day, but I'm beat, and off to bed!  Thanking God for watching over me in all the areas of my life, walking OR driving.

Day 19: A Foggy Little Christmas...

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbour and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
   - Carl Sandburg


Today, the fog did not come in on little, quiet, pleasant cat feet.  It came in stealthily, heavily, like tiger paws.  I glanced out my window while working to see grey skies and the usual snow and ice...and a few minutes later glanced up again to see the whole area around me surrounded in heavy fog.  I was talking to a friend on Facebook who works in the same town, and she said there was no fog at all just a few minutes' walk away.  I assured her it was coming to engulf the church she works in, and sure enough a few minutes later she said, "The fog is here!"

I like fog.  It makes me feel Christmassy, too.  Like snow, it muffles the normally harsh sounds going on all around us.  It's quiet, and not a little bit spooky at times.  I went out for my walk to the post office, fully anticipating another hour's wait so I could send off my two parcels.  I was amazed to find only four people in the queue, and I was out of there in ten minutes.  The woman at the post office said, "You do realise these are far too late to arrive by Christmas", and I was so tempted to drop my jaw and say, "What?? What in the world are you guys doing with your time, anyway??"  But after all the disruption we've had, and the reminder that at least a few times they walked several hours in the snow just to get to the post office, I thought perhaps I'd just nod and smile and say that was fine.  (It would be incredible if I sent a parcel to America on the 21st and it arrived by Christmas Day...who knows??)

The ice under the snow made an ominous creaking sound at times - like the whole foundations of the earth were going to be shaken if I kept walking on it.  On the road, my boots made a 'thomp, thomp' sound - like a muffled, dense stomping noise.  Christmas lights blink cheerfully at me; there is still goodwill in the air; and I rejoice in being able to get out and breathe the sharp cold air, even if it hurts my nose as well as my throat.

There was someone walking across the road from me with the brightest, most neon orange hat I've ever seen.  It was funny, with all the dimmed and faded colours around (grey sky, misty fog, white trees, brown sludgy ice), to suddenly see an incredibly cheerful hat bobbing along...you couldn't miss it for miles.  I wanted to take a photo, just to show how it stood out against the trees, but he sped on very quickly and I missed it.  A few minutes later I was standing in front of an icy tree, getting ready to take its photo, and Mr Orange-Hat sailed on past me!  I nearly missed him again (you can see the speed at which he is going), but I smiled again at the spot of cheer in a dim (weather-wise) day.

Walk length:  30 minutes

Day 18: Tentative Efforts...

I am still insisting on my 90 day challenge, even if it has been broken up by illness.  As mentioned already, I've had pneumonia once. I am not doing it again, if I can help it.

So today I took some first tentative steps (like a baby toddling along), returning to my walking every day.  I am definitely a victim of my own competitiveness: it is one of the things that gets me into trouble physically more often than not.  If I'm going to walk, a mere ten or fifteen minutes will not do.  No, I must tramp for hours through snow and ice and negative temperatures!

The snow and ice is such a draw, though, for a photographer.  Today the frost particles looked as though it started snowing, started raining, the wind came down, and then everything froze in place.  There were what look like frost hairs lining everything - the trees, the bushes, the frozen red berries, even the metal fences had such a strange lining of frost!  I stood and stared for a few minutes, breathing through my scarf, amazed at what is possible with these weather changes; amazed at the Creator's beauty in small things.  

Everyone is still walking; the post office and airport hours are on constant change; my friend dropped by the other day and it took several people to push the car up the icy slope.  (It was kind of funny, watching from the kitchen window.)  Friends are dropping by with Christmas presents; my store of peppermint tea is diminishing rapidly, and I'm starting on the mulled wine; I'm listening to carols as I work away from home; and everywhere is goodwill.  Ah, I love Christmas!

Temporary Hiatus

This blog on temporary hiatus due to illness.  My spirit is willing, but my body is weak!  More postings as health improves.

A Blow To My Pride

I am not well today.  I've got the cold, which won't go.  My cough is not improving.  I had a migraine that lasted a full night and was not happy times.  I've spent the day in bed and have gotten up several times to peer out the window and wonder if I could go for a short walk - because I absolutely hate not coming through on a challenge, and the challenge is to walk every day in spite of the weather.

However, I had pneumonia two winters ago, and I never want to repeat the performance.  If it means a blow to my pride and not walking for a day (or perhaps more - I'll take each day as it comes), then so be it.  Walking for health is good.  Walking when I should be in bed resting is just stupid.

But it's Jane Austen's birthday today, so I will celebrate by reading a little Pride and Prejudice, or perhaps Mansfield Park.  Two of my favourites.

I'm hugely thankful for so many things, though: for migraine medicine, a warm house, good books, hot tea-with-lemon-and-honey, the internet, and even the blow to my pride.  After all, every rule has an exception.  Surely every challenge has its failures, too!

"Ah! There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort."  -Jane Austen

Day 17: From House to House

Today was another example of how this blog & challenge came through to encourage me to walk when I might normally drive.  I did a lot of driving today - to the next town to attend a funeral, then back home.  Dropping off a few Christmas presents.  Into Glasgow to a friend's house.   And I can say unequivocally that I can see why i am walking.  Driving makes me frustrated, ticked off, easily angered, keeping records of wrongs...all those things that love does not do, according to I Corinthians 13, my mind and heart want to do when I am driving in traffic!  

So once I got to my friend's flat in Glasgow, I realised that it was a 4 minute drive to visit another friend nearby - or, according to Googlemaps, an 18 minute walk.  Seeing as I hadn't had my walk yet, I chose that option. 

It was a very wise choice.  Perhaps because I was in Glasgow as opposed to Airdrie, but I found myself not needing my hat, scarf, gloves, and even my coat.  It wasn't just the walking - I've been walking every day in sub zero temperatures and not warming up!  There was a warmth in the air, which I attributed to the predicted snow.  I've learned from experience that when it gets very, very cold and suddenly, surprisingly, warms up - it often means snow is about to show up.  (I remember where I went to university this would happen.  I would leave my dorm and find it surprisingly warm all of a sudden, so I would leave my coat and set off to class, coming out less than an hour later to huge snowflakes falling, and me with no protection from them!)

I passed a Christmas-tree lot, hidden away in a corner of the street.  I wanted to stop and take a photo, but there was a guy standing there looking like a Christmas Tree Bouncer of some kind - he eyed me suspiciously as I crossed over to the other side.  I just wanted to smell the fragrance - the clean, sharp smell of fir trees.  I wish so often I could take a picture of smells like that.  It brings up all kinds of feelings and emotions - family, opening gifts, love, joy, baking cookies, sparkling lights, 'Silent Night' on the radio - all this passes through your mind in a moment as you walk past live Christmas trees.  I left others to purchase their trees, and walked on.

Also passed a place called The Church On The Hill.  It was beautifully lit, with that soft golden light glowing out of the windows.  Not used for a church anymore, as is sadly the case with many such buildings in Scotland, but a beautiful venue, and I never knew it existed.   

Made it to my friend's flat and enjoyed a lovely catch-up and some red wine, and then back out in the mild evening air to Chinese & Indian food and a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit, complete with Christmas crackers.  Then home to my wee flat, where all is calm, and all is...quiet.

Day 16: The Day Is Fading With Fire

Some say the day will end in fire,
Some say in ice. 
From what I've seen upon the sky,
I hold with those who favour fire. 
But if it had to end it twice,
I think I know enough of cold
To say that for the end of day ice
Is also great,
And would suffice. 

(Roughly turned from Robert Frost's Fire and Ice.)

This picture doesn't half do justice to the fire in the sky tonight.  I took my daily walk to the post office (again!) and ran a few errands while out, and as I went into the last shop I saw the light was fading in golds and pinks.  When I came out, there is no other way to describe it than to say that someone had lit a match to the clouds, and it caught and flamed and spread across the sky with great speed.  Vibrant, sharp pinks and reds and golds, giving a pale pink hue to the snowy tops of houses and buildings.  I actually stood for a moment staring at it, wishing I could capture it. 

Incredibly, and typically, by the time I got to the end of the street, the fire had gone out.  The blues and purples of the clouds were overwhelming the brighter colours, and all was back to a dark evening. 

The air was cold tonight on my sore throat.  I was more wrapped up than anyone else I saw, but I was warm, and I don't have pneumonia.  (Been there, done that, never want to go again.)  So I think for the end of the day, I choose fire. 

Walk length:  30 minutes

Day 15: Hear The Angels Sing

Today was the first day that I feel confident I would definitely not have gone for a walk if it wasn't for this commitment, and blog.  I've still got the remnants of my cold.  Temperatures outside are below zero.  Prior to leaving, I'm warm and comfortable, and a little tired.  I'm working away and have plenty more to do.  There is every reason to stay inside, and not a whole lot of good ones (it seems) to leave.  But the key is to set out without thinking too hard about it, other than to bundle up really well, and try to gather a bit of a plan as to where I will walk tonight.

The night sky is fading quickly from the golds and pinks and reds that I saw out the window when I started bundling up.  The moon, shining only faintly as I leave the house, realises as it gets darker that we are reliant on him for light, and begins to take courage and make more of an effort.  The air feels like ice down my throat, and I'm glad I wrapped up with an extra thick scarf, which I use to breathe through.  It's difficult to know where to walk - the paths are iced over, but in a strange way.  All the footprints and bootprints in the snow from the past few days have frozen in place, so it's like walking on little frozen, rolling hills.  Walking on the unmarked snow is also a dangerous exercise, as it has that thin crusted layer which holds for the first step and then cracks and falls, sending your foot down into six inches of snow (while it laughs in glee at catching yet another one, I'm sure). I pass only one man on my entire walk, and he kindly warns me to watch my feet as I go on. 

I'm also thankful for the excuse of this blog to pull out my phone and take a few photos - it's too tempting to walk the whole way with the head down, hands in pockets, concentrating only on my feet.  But when I look up after a few minutes, the pinks and golds of a fading sunset have disappeared entirely, to be replaced with a deep, dark blue.  I stop for a moment to look out on the frosty fields, my breath coming out in those clean white dragon-puffs, and feel for a moment that I am looking out on 'O Holy Night', or 'While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night'.  I don't see any shepherds, or flocks, but I'm in Scotland.  I know they're around here somewhere. 

Surely if I listen carefully, I can hear the angels sing.

Walk length:  40 minutes.

Day 14: Long Periods of Silence

"There were also long periods of silence.  For the master believed in solitude and silence.  Say rather, he believed in God and he believed that when the human is still, the Divine speaks to it, because it is its own."
- George MacDonald

Today I am having a quiet day of rest and silence.  Still not feeling well; weary and tired and so thankful for a day of rest, with no walking required.  As much as I enjoy getting out for fresh air, today my body and mind need those 'long periods of silence' that George MacDonald speaks of there. 

May you enjoy His rest today. 

Day 13: A Wee Wander In The Grotto

Still feeling a little under the weather today - although how does that phrase work, anyway?  If the weather is excellent, and I feel rubbish, is that under the weather?  What about if the weather is fairly blah, and I feel more blah than that?  Does that fit? 

Either way, I'm not up to the ideal weather today.  But I took a dander round to Carfin Grotto, as I've got a wedding to shoot there on Christmas Eve.  There are plenty of good places to capture the bride and groom, but you'll need to wait for Christmas to see the photos! 

Walk length: 10-15 minutes

Day 12: Orange Friday

I'm sick.  My walk today happened not because I am so committed and dedicated, but because I needed medicine and vitamins and other supports.  All I want is my bed and to watch episodes of 24 online.  So this is a short one.  Here's the summary:

Walk length:  30 minutes (to shops and back).  Post office queue for work items:  1 hour.  Shops entered:  Four.  (That's three too many, my mind is tired and distracted.)  Items purchased:  Strepsils (the orange-and-vitamin-C ones), Vitamin C (double doses for when you're sick), soup vegetables, oranges, Sudafed, and Coke.  (It makes you feel happier.)  Notice everything is a remarkable theme of orange here.  State of roads: good.  State of pavement: soggy. State of mind:  miserable, trying to rejoice!

Day 11: Thaw!

 Well, what a difference a day makes.  The sun was actually at work today. Yesterday it came up, looked about, made a big show of attending to the day's needs, yawned, and went back to bed having achieved nothing of consequence.  Today it got up early, rolled up its sleeves and announced, 'Right you lot, no more of this messing about, let's get this mess sorted!' 

Of course sorting the mess out has produced a new mess, with little brown streams everywhere and pure slush to wade through and new things for the moaners to find difficult ("What about those pavements? Why aren't they cleaning them? Ridiculous!"), but it's a completely different world.  A warm one.  Gone are the sparkling snow feathers from yesterday, the harsh cold air that took away speech, every tree looking like a Christmas tree.  It's a balmy six degrees Celsius, and in place of the glittering diamond beauty is a mass of shoppers and walkers and drivers. 

The grocery store is fully stocked, with crowds again buying bread as though they may never see it again.  Morrison's is, indeed, baking for us every day; and in the air there's a feeling of Christmas...the kind of feeling that says, "Right, let's get down to the shopping!"  It makes you want to buy things. 

The past week or so, even when people were out, the sharp coldness made our blood sluggish, and we walked slowly and conserved energy and only bought the necessities.  Now, the icicles are dripping, the snow is melting, and we're all in a hurry. 

I must admit to liking it better at the negative temperatures - the camaraderie, the beauty that takes your breath away, the silent night, the holy night - but I'll also admit to buying a whole bag of loot today!  Some for me and...some more for me.  It's the season of giving!

Walk length: 30 minutes

Day 10: Snow Feathers

One of the most beautiful things about snow is how it changes.  One day it's little pellets striking at your face; another day you can see big flakes, beautiful in their individuality, landing on your gloves.  Some days it comes thick and fast; other days it floats lazily down and you hum 'Silent Night' as you watch it.

Today I stepped out for my walk.  I expected a long one as the sun is out and I had the afternoon before me: but I didn't get a few feet out my door before I was stopping to pull out the camera.  The snow is like individual sparkling feathers, and when the sun catches it, there are diamonds everywhere.  You want to reach out and touch them.  At one place I stopped to walk through this feathered snow where no one else had passed, and it had a sound like fine sand - whishhh, whishhh, instead of the usual schoonk, schoonk (or, sometimes, a soft crunch, crunch).  I wish I could take a picture of a sound, but just close your eyes and imagine fine white sand pouring from one vessel into another, and you'll hear the sound of walking through snow feathers.

It was about -9 during the day while the sun was shining.  Strange to feel very warm, with my scarf tied close around my neck, and also very cold at the same time.  My face felt frozen into position so that I struggled to smile at those I passed.  One of those I passed was a guy walking into Morrisons, saying to his mate, "Okay, so I need bread, milk, sausages, and Irn Bru."  Basic Scottish needs.  I stopped to take a photo of the train tracks, and an older lady and her husband stopped to speak with me, and we discovered we are neighbours.  She had seen me clearing the road in our estate on Saturday.  Imagine leaving my flat for a long walk and running into two people who live almost next door to me!  

I walked a long way today - probably three hours at least.  Everywhere I went there was beauty.  You could even see the distant mountains, what the Bible calls the "everlasting hills", from certain heights.  I even walked through a cemetery - normally quiet and peaceful places, they are even more so when covered with snow.  A lonely bird perched on a celtic cross surveyed its position, and me, before flying haughtily away. I had disturbed it, and it was not best pleased. Walked past a flowing stream, with the water steaming up where it met the cold air.  A lone tree in a wood.  Quiet, quiet everywhere. 

After a few hours I walked past a friend's house, and they spied me from the window and invited me in for a cup of tea.  I delayed them an hour whilst I caught the end of the setting sun, and then nipped in on my way home.  By this time the sun was setting, and I was so cold I could hardly speak.  It took me a few minutes to get my wellies off (having learned my lesson yesterday, I had three pairs of socks on, so thick it's difficult to get the wellies off! - but my feet were not blocks of ice today!), and they graciously gave me not only a cup of black coffee (is there anything nicer), but a bowl of soup and sandwiches to go with it!  It was difficult to hoist myself together and venture out into the negative temperatures to walk home, but it was lovely to know that my warm cosy flat was waiting patiently for me, as always.

Walk Length: Approx 3.5 hours

Day 9: "A Picturesque Pain In The Butt"

 Yesterday I didn't want to leave my warm home and go out in the snow, but once I got there I enjoyed it.  Today I was quite cheerful leaving, but oh I was glad to get home.  It is bitter, bitter cold out there.

My iphone said that the high today was -2, and the low was -7, and it was -8 right then.  I think that sums it up. 

Today was not really a wellies day.  My usually warm woolen socks gave in to the cold's pressure and didn't really prevent it coming in any more.  The air is like ice going through your blood, and my toes were like hard blocks that have just now begun to thaw out.

I made it to the post office for a very impressive queue stretching out the doors.  I didn't mind waiting, although I must admit I much preferred waiting inside where I wasn't standing on two inches of solid ice!  It was warm, and I had a lovely chat with an older lady and her husband as they waited with me.  We were there a good 45 minutes, which I think in light of the snow and Christmas post, is probably pretty good!  My new friend said that she expected to look much different once she leftt, as "you could grow old waiting in this queue". 

Whilst in the growing-old queue, I ran into one of the church elders who said that he met one of his neighbours today, an American, who described our current situation as "a picturesque pain in the butt".  I kind of liked that phrase actually.  It bothers me when people won't even see the beauty:  but it's true that there are people stuck in cars for 16+ hours overnight, children having to sleep in schools because their parents can't pick them up, shops that are out of bread and milk, and no gritters or scrapers for the roads.  For someone like me, with a job from home and no children to amuse while the schools are off, it's not a burden.  I hoist my camera on my back and march through any kinds of snow. 

The roads are like glass.  Icicles stretch from every rooftop, some several feet long.  The trees are entirely encrusted with snow; even with a full sunny day they have not melted in the slightest. If you insist on going out today (and I did!), look to your nose, look to your toes, and walk quickly.

As for me, I'm in my fuzzy purple Eeyore jammies, the kettle is on, and it's your turn.  Where are you going to walk today?

Day 8: Six More Inches, Fog, And A Few Basic Necessities

So when I woke up this morning it was coming down heavy and thick, and it didn't stop until close to 3 this afternoon.  At least six more inches today, so that brings us up to two feet or more!  I amused myself this morning watching cars go slowly past my window up the hill...and then a moment later come sliding back down again...!  There were many people who had attempted to go to work or somewhere else and were now heading back home, so a mass exodus trudged past my windows all morning.  Meanwhile I was warm and cosy inside!

But not for long.  Not feeling a hundred percent today, but had to get my walk - otherwise bad habits start.  So, once the snow stopped, leaving us with at least six more inches to enjoy, I completed the now-familiar ritual of putting tights on under my jeans, layering up, hat, gloves, scarf, coat, extra socks, and finally stepping into my wellies and heading out.

Words can't convey the absolute silence outside.  There are so few cars on the road, and the ones that are there move silently on a smooth, icy road.  (I had one peep at me quite angrily for walking on said road, but the roads belong to pedestrians as well as cars this weather.  Perhaps more so pedestrians.)  Every fence-post and lamp-post and street-light and post-box has a massive snow hat, and the churches look even more solemn and beautiful and peaceful.  Lights gleam out, white and yellow, as the sun starts to set.  The trees are heavily laden with beauty, and the fog has started to come down and mist the whole scene with blurred edges.  Everything is muffled and quiet, except for the random ned on his mobile phone, hollering insults at the city, the weather, his mates, and the Lord, not necessarily in that order.  So few people are looking around at the incredible beauty around them.  I do feel a little sorry for those who are stuck in massive queues on the roads and motorways, but I'm a bit surprised that with heavy snow falling this morning they ever attempted to leave in the first place. 

I ran into a few locals who were out getting some basic necessities, noting that some of the shops are out of milk.  "No one can panic-buy like the British", they say, and from what I've heard this past week, that's incredibly true.

My suggestion to everyone is, listen to the insurance companies, the post office, or whoever it is telling you not to get in your car.  It's just not worth it.  Cars abandoned in the middle of roads.  Queues backed up for a mile because one car can't move, and none of the others can get round it.  People leaving work at 1 in the afternoon and at half 5 not even close to home yet.  Cold.  Dark.  Dangerous.  It's just not wise, people.

Better to pull on the wellies and shrug into that coat and walk! You'll get there faster, and you'll enjoy the journey so much  more.  Take it from me!

Day 7: Remember The Sabbath Day

"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labour and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall do no work; you, nor your son or daughter, or your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day.  Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy."  -Exodus 20.8-11

"And remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there by a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day."  -Deuteronomy 5.15

It's wonderful that today is the seventh day of my walking, and it also falls on the first day of the week, a day of rest!  Today as on all Sundays I rest from my exercise as well as other things, but it was an act of necessity to walk to church today!  It was a beautiful walk, crisp and clear, with icy snow underfoot and even the bright sun not melting it.  There are piles of snow everywhere, beautiful white snow and horrible grimy brown snow, but  most people are resting today - not by commandment, but by requirement.  God has brought the snow, and their cars and their families have to rest.

What a beautiful thing it is to rest not because we have to, but because it's a gift from God.

Day 6: Shoveling Snow, And A Proposal

You can say I cheated if you like, but I'm pretty sure that digging my car out of over a foot and a half of snow and ice was well harder than a walk today.  I completely wore myself out doing it (and am wondering why in the world I did do it), so no walk today.  Considering that it took me a good two hours, and my hands and legs are a bit shaky all the rest of the day, I think I got my exercise.

There's something very camaraderatic (that's my new word for 'like camaraderie') about shoveling snow.  I decided to make an effort with my car, but I didn't have a snow shovel, so I met about four of my neighbours in looking for one.  Met a lovely old lady named Betty who thanked me for stopping by as it encouraged her to get out for the day.  (Yes!!! Someone else walking in all weathers!)  Met an older couple who moaned and groaned about the local council and their inability to come get the bins in snow (cheerful moaning though, if you know what I mean, and they were shoveling snow while they did it).  An old man who let me borrow his shovel (did the trick amazingly well, thanks Mr Man At Number 1!).  And finally, another older man who cheerfully shoveled away whilst I did, and after about a half hour of me shoveling the road out of the estate, stopped and asked, "Are you married?"

I wondered what this had to do with me shoveling snow, but I said, "No," and he shook his head as if to say, what were the men about, and I said, "Do you think I'd be out here doing this on my own if I was?" and he laughed.  We shoveled on together, me picking ice with the edge of the shovel and scooping away.  A few minutes later he says, "I bet you can cook, too."  "Oh aye!"  He laughs.  More shoveling. Stab, stab, shooonk.  (Those are the sounds I was making with my borrowed shovel.)  "And I obviously can clean!"  He shook his head, still wondering.  "Well," he said finally, "you must have a weakness somewhere."  I thought about it (running over in my head all the weaknesses that I know of, for they are legion), and came out with, "Well, I'm stubborn as a rock."  He wouldn't let me away with that one.  "That's all of us, dearie."  Stab, stab, shooonk. 

"Well," he finally said, leaning on his shovel, "if I wasn't married already I'd marry you myself!"

So, a very productive day as you can see.  I still don't know the guy's name, but he's there for me if anything happens to his wife! 

Day 5: Boodle Bar

Not a long walk today, I think I'm feeling the effects of yesterday.  Was working all day and pretty full on, so my walk tonight consisted of walking into the town centre and getting Boodle Bar for dinner! That's it's new official name - I believe the sign above the shop says Bar Noodle or something silly like that, but we all know it as the Boodle Bar, thanks to my inability in texting :)

Debbie and I slushed our way through the grim, black, no-longer-beautiful muck all the way there.  Still plenty of cars on the roads, so we couldn't even walk on them!  Me in my wellies was just fine, but poor Debbie and her soft boots struggled a bit!! She was very thankful for a tumble dryer when we got back.

It's still great to get out in the fresh air - I love the smell of cold air.  According to the NY Times, we (unsurprisingly) are not getting enough outside-time, and this walking challenge was developed for exactly that reason. I could spend all day and night in a cosy warm house, with my computers and kitchen and bedroom and internet ordering and mail delivery and never go out...but how sad is that.  Even on a night when the white snow has turned to brown slush, and the cars driving by spray you with more of the slush, it's still good to get out. 

And my Boodle Bar dinner was just right.  I'm off to bed!  More tomorrow.

Day 4: Like Walking In Brown Sugar

Joy, joy, the sun came out and the skies stayed blue today!  Well, blue and grey, but it didn't bust out a small blizzard on me like yesterday.  I walked twice today - a short one in the morning (in which I put on far too many clothes and nearly suffocated while walking through snow up to my knees), and a longer one just before sunset.  Of course once the sun went down it was pretty darn cold, and I had the head down, slushing my way home. 

An older gentleman was slushing through the brown stuff towards me (unfortunately the roads were more clear, so I couldn't walk on them anymore), and we stopped to chat.  This happened about six times during my two walks today - everyone is just so friendly.  People stop to say 'hiya' even while shoveling snow behind their car, or in between having heated discussions with the person they are walking with.  One older lady was peeking out her top-floor window, about four storeys up, and I waved.  We had a shouted conversation which I doubt she understood any of, but it was very cheerful and pleasant.  At any rate, the older gentleman mentioned in passing that "it's like walking through brown sugar", and as I walked on I realised he was absolutely right.  If you took bags and bags of demerara brown sugar, and piled it about six inches deep, and made it extremely cold, and then tried walking through it, you will have some idea of how my walk went - at least when I was on the paths.

I did divert from the paths several times - once to duck under a snow-laden tree and be standing suddenly in fairyland.  I almost felt like crying - it was that pretty.  I don't know if you've ever felt like that.  Beauty touches me powerfully, and with the sun slanting through the snow-covered trees, and not a noise to be heard but a bird calling, I just stood there in wonder for a moment.  Then I whipped out my camera, of course, and I'll post those photos later.  I had my heavy-duty camera with me today, so I got some better-than-iphone photos.  Meant an extra stone in weight on my back, but my wonderful amazing can't-get-any-better Lowepro Slingshot distributes the weight really well.  I know I sound like I'm selling it, but if you're into photography you honestly can't do better for a camera bag when slushing through two feet of snow.  It's legendary. 

On the way back I stopped in at the local grocery store, whose floors were a pool of brown water.  Fortunately I was wearing my trusty wellies (also contributing to the brown water), so it was no worries for me.  The poor lady at the front with the mop paused as I came in and the look on her face seemed to indicate that she wasn't sure there was any point.  I'm not sure there was, either.  Best wait till March, and clean up then.  For some odd reason, everyone seemed to be stocking up on cooking salt.  In the middle of a main aisle stood a trolley, piled high with cooking salt, on sale for 62p.  Every person who passed took one, and one lady took four.  I was wondering whether there is a sudden need for everyone to make homemade pretzels, but I have now realised that, of course, those who don't have grit are making do with cooking salt.  (A little slow here - I think the brain is frozen.)  People were also stocking up on Coke - it truly is a Christmas drink.  I definitely associate the red can with its cheery Father Christmas on it, with the season. 

This is one of those days that I wish my walk could count for two.  In total I think I walked for about three hours today - and much of that was hard slogging through snow that was quite literally up to my knees.  And I had that heavy camera backpack too.  I thought this little blog would be a lovely way to make sure I took a short walk every day!  What have I gotten myself into?

I'm off to lie around in my jammies and drink some seasonal Coca-Cola.  I'm not going to bother digging the car out for a few days (or weeks), so maybe I should make some homemade pretzels!

Postscript, Day 3: Back In Time

I took a very, very mini walk tonight to get my dinner.  The local Chinese was actually open!  (Although the lady who ran it kept answering the phone and explaining that no, there were no deliveries, and we all laughed.)

Snow at this level makes me feel like I've gone back fifty - or maybe a hundred - years.  The roads are so quiet, and still.  The noise of drivers and driving is gone.  People are walking everywhere.  There are greetings being passed across the road - "Hiya, nice to see you" and "Aye, I'll come by later".

Laughter floats across the cool night air and the street lamps cover everything with a soft orange glow.  Everyone talks to each other, they share stories about how they were stuck or couldn't get to work or didn't want to bother going to work.  The news is on the telly, but we get the most important news from each other.  "Is the post office open, do you know?"  "Aye, they were saying the football match is postponed indefinitely."  "Is the airport still shut?"  And a random stranger to sympathise with your hard times, or laugh at your snow story.

It's heartwarming.  Almost makes you want to go back a hundred years.

But then you wouldn't hear from me. :)

Day 3: Slight Blizzard, No Problem

So I still keep thinking that if I go out in the morning it will stay nice and clear for my lovely walk.  Today it not only started snowing a few minutes after I launched out, it then followed with driving snow, wind, and a mini blizzard.  (I say 'mini' because, typically, it all calmed down ten minutes after I walked back in the door.)

My car is almost completely snowed under - which is another reason to walk.  I'm thankful today that I live in a small town within walking distance of the train station (which is closed), the post office (which isn't doing much), the grocery store (fortunately open), and all the shops (closing early).  At least I can get to them when they all open again!

The walk was...well, I can't honestly say it was enjoyable.  It was cold.  The snow drove itself into my face with force, my hat didn't quite cover my ears, there are no walkways, and sometimes the snow was over top of my wellies (well over a foot of snow now, I think we're looking at about 16 inches).  There were no cheerful greetings with other walkers (we all had our heads down).  I saw three people waiting at a bus stop and wanted to say 'For what?', but thought wiser of it as I plowed on.  Not much scenery, and no photos to speak of even though I brought my trusty Lowepro Slingshot (with a handy little jacket cover for bad weather!)

But despite all that, it warms my heart to know that there are others out there doing the daily walking with me, even if you've got bright sunshine or a little bit of puny rain or a slight breeze.  It's okay.  Some days it's harder for me to go out on a perfectly lovely day, because of my mindset, than it is when there is a foot and a half of snow and blizzarding conditions. Excelsior!

I was thinking of trying another walk later, but I'm pretty beat. Right now I'm listening to Mozart's "Sleigh Ride" and watching the snow whirl around in flurries outside my window.  They can't touch me.

Until tomorrow!

Day 2 and 1/2: Fool Me Twice

Okay, so, despite my great blog post earlier today and subsequent lessons learned, I still ventured forth hoping for the best when asked to do an engagement shoot in the snow.  I wasn't sure whether we would have a blizzard on our hands or not and I thought, 'Surely the bitterness of too much snow is past'.  (Rough quote from I Samuel 15.32, in case you think I don't like snow! I do!)

At 2.15 the sun was shining brightly on the snow.  At 2.30, when I walked out the door, it was really coming down!!  Fortunately everything came together for our shoot and we got both 'snowing pictures' and 'snowy pictures', to the happiness of all.

And another hour's walk for me!  The thing is, it doesn't count for two days.  You don't get to walk 6 times in a day and take the day off for the next six days.  But hey - I'm a sucker for taking photos in the snow!

The walk was good.  The sun goes down a little before 4pm here, so I walked home in the dark.  People were still cheerful everywhere I went: or perhaps it was just me.  It's amazing how friendly everyone else is when I'm in a happy mood!  Every house that I passed looked like a little gingerbread cottage.  The train tracks were smooth and clean; every car a little heap of white; and the streetlights sparkled on the snow like glitter.  I smelled the crisp burning of a wood fire.  Mmmmmm.  Winter nights!

Well, as they say, fool me twice, shame on me.  But I don't regret it.  I'd do it again!

Day 2: Fool Me Once

Classic schoolgirl error, as one of my friends would put it.  I looked out the window at snow softly falling, and as it slowed down I thought, 'Beautiful time for a walk!'  I layered up, suited up, booted up (wellied up?), and launched forth.  I even took my camera bag with me in case I saw some beautiful scenery on my walk.

The first minute and a half were lovely.  The sun shone through on a tree with red berries, and I stopped to take a photo.  The sky was blue.  There is almost a foot of snow on the ground.  My wellies made that muffled crunching sound that is peculiar to snow.  Ah, walking in all weathers.  This isn't so bad!

Five minutes later, it had begun to snow lightly.  Still lovely; still a nice morning walk. I passed a shop with laughter floating out as everyone discussed the unusual weather for Airdrie in November.  An old woman passed me on the bridge and we smiled and said 'Good morning', and wasn't it a lovely day?  I could see the sun rising against the mountains and snow-covered trees everywhere.  The fresh air made me feel alive, brisk, alert.
  
Ten minutes after that I had my head down, snow pellets attacking me from all round, and not a beautiful scenic photo in sight.  I took refuge underneath an old bridge, gave thanks for my Lowepro Slingshot camera bag (which has a handy little weather-jacket to pull up and around the bag to protect it in all weathers), pulled my hat down and my scarf up, and tramped on.  Now I was passing the effects of difficult weather.  A man with a flat tyre, pumping a jack in the driving snow. A man carrying a small child, being pelted not only by snow but by the interminable "why's" of a three year old.  Cars who were driving more slowly than I was walking.  Countless cars stuck in snow and ice and muck, and drivers still attempting to dig themselves out.  (Obviously heading for places or events of critical importance).

I took a 40-minute walk today, not because I intended to, but because that's how long a 15 minute walk took today!   Fool me once, weather, shame on you....

The snow is still coming down, in huge flakes now instead of pellets.  I'm warm and comfortable and very thankful that I took my walk at the start of the day - because the snow is a foot high, and more is still falling!

Excelsior, indeed!

Day 1: Quoth The Potato, Nevermore

My life can tend towards the sedentary.  I work from home, I live in a small town, I have what is called chronic fatigue or M.E., and it is easy to order anything I need online.  Whilst I enjoy the fresh air and re-awakening of the mind by a good walk, some days the CBB syndrome kicks in (Can't Be Bothered).  And in the past I have found it difficult to determine whether this is a day to rest and not do too much, or a day to push myself a bit and be glad I did.

And what is the difference between rest and too much lying around?  Some people call that a couch potato, when you lie about rather than being active.  Me, I have more of a tendency to become a bed potato. I like my comfy, warm, everything-I-need-around-me bedroom, with two duvets for the winter cold, and I can sit there with my laptop or a good book and while the hours away quite comfortably. 

Lately, though, I'm learning that there is rarely a day on which going for a walk is a bad idea. It doesn't have to be a long walk - some days I do 5 or 10 minutes, other days several hours.  But consistency is the key.  You can achieve great things in life not by starting them, but by starting them and then continuing to do them day after day after day after long, cold, dark day.  I can feel a quote at the edges of my mind about how the difference between good work and excellence, or between genius and invention, is hard work. 

So I'm starting this blog because I don't want to tend towards the potato, no matter what kind.  For the past few weeks I've been making a real effort to go out walking regardless of where I am or what's going on in the sky.  In Arizona, where I was visiting my family a few weeks ago, it was a little easier.  Last week it started snowing in Airdrie.  We have a half a foot already and it's still coming down.  Getting ready for a walk has become complicated.  Layer upon layer upon layer, and I look more like the abominable snowman than anything else!

But this potato saith, nevermore.  And excelsior, and all those feel-good words.  I looked up excelsior for the exact meaning, and it means 'ever higher', which isn't quite my motto.  'Ever onwards' would be more accurate.  I'm not climing Everest (or even Ben Nevis), I'm just walking.  Every day, six days a week, for 90 days.  (God took a day of rest from creating the universe, so I figure I will do the same in my walking-in-all-weathers. I fully expect most Sundays from now on to have beautiful, easy, want-to-walk-in-it weather.  But no matter!)

So today I began my walk of intent.  I suited up and sallied forth, not daunted by the fact that a huge fence has been erected around one of my favourite walking paths.  I found a way around it and had a good 40-minute walk in the driving snow.  It was fairly light, but little snow pieces dashed at my cold face whenever I was walking into the wind.  Snow pieces, not snowflakes.  Snowflakes are much more kind, and appear when there is no wind.  My wellies were legendary, though.  Like walking in snow with socks on, and yet never getting cold.  Highly recommended.

Now I'm cosied up inside, and I can be a bed potato all I want.  Until tomorrow!