There is always a point in about March where I forget what it is like to be warm. The heat from the previous summer has long since left the meter thick stone of the house and no matter how high I crank the heat or how many logs I put on the fire, my fingers and toes are permanently numb. Day baths become my staple - lava hot dunks in the tub during my lunch break to get feeling back in my extremities, with the sole purpose of getting enough circulation going that I can reply to emails in the afternoons. I work with a duvet tucked around me and dream of hot summer days…
Until they actually arrive, that is. This week has reminded me that at any temperature about about 19c (66f) and my brain just stops working. Those of you who live in far warmer climes will probably laugh at my low threshold for heat, but summers here are different. Everything is sticky and there is no break in it, with the sun barely dipping below the horizon.
Yesterday in the grocery store, I walked past the milk 4 times, forgetting each time where it was despite having shopped in the same store for almost 20 years. This morning I drove halfway to Stirling, when I was supposed to be taking the teenagers to school (said teenagers were oddly quiet about it).
My absentmindedness maybe isn’t just about the heat, but the relentlessness of the pace of the last few weeks. A combination of a lot of help, long days, endless cups of coffee and a few tears, we managed to open the farm unofficially again last Friday.
There have been many days since April, when I honestly didn’t think we would get here. So many unexpected hurdles to navigate alongside a renovation - a barn fire, our septic system failing, a missing gas engineer, a new booking system that was set up completely incorrectly, kid and family challenges, we have done a lot of swerving.
As we stood in the revamped event barn on Friday, surrounded by friends and art and friend’s art (for Forth Valley Art Beat), I could feel myself welling up. So often over the last few years, Kevin and I have dreamed of this moment - our beautiful spaces filled with art and people and good food. With Lucy standing with us to usher this new chapter of Gartur in, it felt like a turning point.
And though I may not be able to string a coherent sentence together or remember where the milk or high school is, but what I’ve lost in brain capacity, I am making up for in general excitement at the season ahead…a trade off I am happy to make.
Kat
Our exhibition for Forth Valley Art Beat is open every day until Sunday, 12-5pm. My advice is to come see it on Sunday and grab a Wild Pizza while you are here.
We are also thrilled to announce an exciting collaboration with our friend Tori Ratcliffe who will be running a watercolour workshop here on the 5th & 6th of August.
As well as all of the exciting exhibition work going on, our latest issue of Life in the Making has arrived! We are sending them out this week, so you still have time to order now.
My brain definitely melts above 19 degrees. Rain (and a little sanity!) forecast for next week.