Recently I learnt that there are 42 words for mud in Scots English. I’m not at all surprised. These endlessly mild, wet, gloomy days, where it never properly gets light before it starts getting dark again, have meant there’s a lot of glaur around (glaur is a particularly soft, slimy sort of mud apparently). It has seemed fitting then that I’ve been working on a poster for Nomad magazine’s annual fundraiser called January Blues.

I’ve also been without Little Owl for four whole days now. She’s having a whale of a time with her grandparents so that I can get my head down with college work. Although I am very grateful for the help my arms do ache for a cuddle with my little one. Still, my mum tells me we get a minute of extra light every day now that we’re the right side of the winter solstice. Thanks goodness for that.

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