By: Blonde Two

As you know, the Two Blondes’ walking calendar runs all year around with maybe less walking in the summer and more in the winter.  We don’t mind this, in fact, Blonde One’s favourite Dartmoor days are the ones shrouded in mist (something to do with her enigmatic personality).  As you may have noticed, when most people are heading home to fires and tea time, we prefer to be heading up a hill to sit in the dark for a while.

Having said all of that, it is always a relief when the year comes around full circle again and the shortest day has been safely negotiated.  Winter when you are outside is perfectly acceptable but when you are working inside and don’t see daylight for several days at a time, it can become a bit emotion sapping.

I set great store by the solstices – so much so that I decided to give birth to two of my children on the summer solstice.  This does, of course, demonstrate fabulous organisational ability.  From a navigational point of view, the winter solstice is interesting because it is then that the sun shines from its most southernly point. Yesterday, I didn’t see the sun shine much at all over Dartmoor but with all of those stone rows and menhirs, I am sure that something mystical would have been going on.

I didn’t manage to get out for a walk during the day – partly due to my determination to make the most of the unusual opportunity for a Saturday lie-in (Blondes usually adventure on Saturdays); so I took the dog out after dark on a secret mission to find holly, ivy or mistletoe – all symbols of the earth still being alive during the winter.  I couldn’t find the secateurs so felt a bit of a hooligan pinching bits of greenery out of people’s hedges with an old kitchen knife.  There is almost certainly a law about this.

I came back with holly and ivy but, maybe not surprisingly, no mistletoe.  Hopefully Christmas kisses won’t be quite as lacking!