normality resumes.

Last week was wonderful for all three of us.  

Faelen got to spend long days snugged in snoozing in the sling, his current favourite place, whilst James and I went walking and exploring.  
James finally got to spend the time he has been craving with Faelen, not just the cranky evenings and drowsy mornings.  
And me - well I made the most of car access to visit the long list of cafes and attractions that I have been accruing in the back of my Diary.  I ate a lot of breakfast (and smarties - such lovely colours)! 

After a week of lazy mornings, help with the night-squarks and endless pots of tea, I feel more than a little sorry that our stay-cation has come to an end and James has gone back to work.  It honestly was one of the best (and cheapest!) holidays I have ever had!

good food and winter sun.

Having James home from work feels blissful and we must have earnt some good karma as blue skies have been spotted!  We have been enjoying simple family time like eating all three meals together, binge watching episodes of House and getting out into Bristol town again.  It feels a little like emerging from hibernation (fully inclusive of surprised blinking at the winter sun).

a long-distance guided tour.

After posting a few pictures of Bristol a couple weeks ago, I got a comment from the lovely Fran, a previous Bristolian now living in France (and who takes the most incredible pictures), listing some of her favourite things from her time in Bristol.  James and I pencilled down names and places and were escorted, long distance, on a guided tour of our city.








Mostly I forgot to take pictures, I was just enjoying spending time walking in the cold with James.  I think it might almost be mitten weather :)  
Thank you Fran for the Gloucester Road Tour (as it is now fondly known), we had a lovely day.

exploring bristol and finding new favourites.

Having somewhere new to explore at the weekends is too exciting.  Finding a new coffee shop to claim as our favourite coffee shop, exploring the hundreds of galleries and free exhibitions before we have to consider a crying baby, trying all the bakeries to find our new staple sourdough loaf; these last few Autumnal weekends are passing by all too quickly.

Arnos Vale: a secret world of Victorian graves.

When James and I moved into this area, we knew nothing about it, it was a gamble based on the only house we could afford to rent that had both a roof and panes glass in the window frames but we have really landed on our feet.  

But since moving to Bristol I have had a lot of time on my hands.  James works ridiculous hours and I no longer have the luxury of all my nearest and dearest residing on the doorstep.  I am finding it temptingly easy to sink into the habit of hermitude, since my first cabin-fevered week, unpacking with minimal human contact, I realised that the huge expanse of free-time I am lucky enough to have pre-baby should be better utilised.  At some point in Cardiff I think I forgot how to do things by myself. 

So I have been consciously making the effort to do things by myself instead of waiting for company.  Every day I have set myself something to do that, in a past life, I would have waited until someone had time to accompany me.  
From this, I have developed a true love for Arnos Vale, my favourite place in this new area.  Less than five minutes from my front door is 45 acres of Victorian Cemetery, surprisingly hidden in the centre of busy city.  Not since my 'goth' phase (aged approximately thirteen and three quarters and involving too much borrowed eye liner and an oversized spiked dog collar) have I considered a cemetery a fun place to hang out but Arnos Vale is something else.  There is nothing maudlin or morbid about it, it has fallen back to nature and is an overgrown wilderness of ivy, trees and graves.  Walking in is like entering a cobweb, endless winding paths stray and interconnect, occasionally I convince myself I have accidentally left the grounds only to spy more graves in the undergrowth.

Every few days since moving in I have gone to walk around the grounds and I have yet to take the same route twice.  I can't decide which is more magical, the fallen graves or the abundant growing life.