Sue Woodcock: Good friends bring comfort when the weather turns cruel

I really can't do ill because the jobs still need to be done and the animals cared for. My small nanny kid died this week. She had pneumonia and although I nursed and treated her, she succumbed. At least she had a happy life while she was with me.

I can speak to a hall of strangers with equanimity, but this week I was asked to give a talk at Buckden to help raise funds for Hubberholme Church.

By the time I got there, I was nervous. I needn't have been. I was among friends and was made very welcome. It was a pie-and-peas supper evening and I included a short quiz to pad out the proceedings and we raised a lot of money.

They ambushed me, however. Someone knew it was my birthday. I gratefully accepted a lovely hanging basket, a well-thought-out gift because the sheep cannot eat that.

My dogs are revelling in the warmth of the fires and my being at home a little more than usual. The horrendous wind caused havoc. My post box blew off the wall and was found 40 metres into the field. Every bucket and bit of straw dispersed round the fields and it took two days for me to clear it all up. It was cold, too, and it was a little depressing with my feeling a bit under par.

Then, at last, a calm, perfect day. I woke early and watched the sun rise. The sky was clear pale blue and the grass white with frost. As the sun gained in strength, the day brightened and only the shaded areas stayed white as the green of the grass made a bright contrast. It just got better.

Looking out towards Pendle Hill all I could see was a thick, white cloud hugging the valleys and it looked as though I was floating on an island of cotton wool. The air was clear.

I fed the animals, did my chores and drove down to knit with the group in the village. As I drove the mile to the village, I left the bright sunshine and was quickly enveloped in thick white cloud only to emerge in clear air under an overcast sky.

During the morning, the scenery appeared and disappeared constantly as the cloud moved sluggishly around until it finally dissipated around lunchtime.

I was chatting in my friend's garden when a heron took off nearby and flew gracefully over our heads. The sunshine reflected on its grey plumage making it look almost silver.

When I got back, I let the dogs out. Brillo excelled herself. She found a huge rat and dispatched it without further ado. As it was almost as big as her, I was most impressed.

I burned some rubbish on the bonfire and had a relaxing afternoon. The dogs, after running round, lay in the sunshine watching me and supervising what I was doing.

As dusk approached, the sky was a multi-coloured expanse of delicate pink clouds, a pale apricot glow and the faintest azure blue with the dark silhouettes of the hills almost framing a perfect picture. Such moments are special.

The quiz on Sunday in aid of Help the Heroes raised more than 100.

I got home and did a bit of stargazing. When I called the dogs, I couldn't find Boo. Looking for a black puppy in an unlit reed-strewn field is not easy. I wandered round calling her until I was aware of something behind me. She had been following me for some time.

She has started tipping my dirty clothes basket over and getting in it to have a quick nap. Now she is fully immunised, I shall start walking her further afield.

I am so lucky with the wonderful friends I have. I have chosen to live on my own but I have met such kind and genuine folk who have demonstrated that they are there for me when I need them.

This last week has brought this home to me. I may not have been born and raised here but I wish I had. My family is far away, one of my brothers is in Afghanistan. This time of year is a poignant time for me, for many reasons, personal as well as patriotic.

CW 20/11/10