all gone quiet

It's cold. It hasn't snowed much to complain about here, we're too close to sea level, but the three and a half snowflakes that did fall are still sitting among the snowdrops and fennel stems because the ground is too cold and hard to melt them. I'm putting together a sequence of Irish poems into a collection called Rushlight. There are more of them than I realised.
All the sick people here are getting better - the grand-daughter is even well enough to begin pinching food from other kids' plates at nursery. The house is gradually becoming less silted up with redundant paperwork, books, utensils that might be useful one day and invoices for things we no longer possess. I even started gardening again, until the snow came back, and now the ground is too hard.
Meantime the rest of the country seems to have totally seized up.

February already

January got eaten by family illnesses, de-cluttering the house, preparing the next chunk of work for the Lúcháir project and structuring Recusant - which I think I might have to call Who Time Sleeps Withal, and learning how to use my new, very shiny, and very complicated phone. It seems to do everything but make me a cup of tea.

Also I am now convinced that cheese causes migraines. Coffee and chocolate do too, but somehow I seem to find substitutes for them.
Let's hope that February gets better. I have plans ---