I’m not in my word loft typing this week’s blog post. We ran out of oil and it’s freezing in there without central heating. It’s good to have a change of workspace, though, and the lounge fire blasts out a fair heat with the flames adding a comforting glow.

The jasmine plant I had as a birthday present twists around its oval willow support frame and the pink delicate star-shaped blooms smell sweet and fresh on the table, where I have set up my laptop. The fragrance reminds me of countryside walks on bright days.

There are plenty of appealing routes close to home, but one I hadn’t appreciated until lockdown days, takes us in a practical loop.

Further, into St Germans, we take a left-hand turn and tramp up and over a railway bridge near Quarry Street. It’s always a treat if a train hurtles along at the same time before we head up the hill towards Longfield. At a gap in the hedge, there are breath-taking views over the landscape towards Landrake, a village approximately four miles away, when travelling along the A38.

St Michael’s Church, with its tall castle-like tower, is prominent there in the distance as the eye sweeps over the meandering River Tiddy edging Port Eliot Estate, Lithiack and Craggs Wood.

Back on the main thoroughfare, some locals have rested painted pebbles near a stone memorial seat. There are usually only a few, but people’s creativity and the messages and designs decorating them, offering kind sentiments to passers-by are heartening. The one my grandson left in the summer is still there and every time I see its happy face drawn on the imprint of his hand, it makes me smile.

At the end of Longfield, we turn left down into Polbathic and would normally pop into The Halfway House for a hot or iced drink, depending on the time of year. It’s near the cottage we moved from seventeen years ago, and we can never resist peeping over the garden wall where views of the River Lynher are superb. It’s also the place where I set “Music In The Air’, my first short story published in “The People’s Friend” years ago.

The end of our three-mile walk leads us up the road and back into St Germans. The terrain is fascinating, whatever the season, but it would look magical under a layer of snow, just like the rest of Britain, but we will have to wait and see.

With that frosty thought, I’m pleased to announce – the oil tanker has arrived. The delivery man is topping up our tank and I’ve never been so pleased to hear the glug, glug, glug, as it is filled, and the hum of the pump. The bungalow is warming up quickly, and guess what? We’ve ordered a new oil level gauge so that we won’t be left in a chilly situation again.

Until next time.
Sue. X