Hibernation is over ...........

The forsythia is opening - just a few buds bursting tentatively - just a toe in the water so to speak. One aubretia floret and a handful of wind-blown pansies - and that is the sum total of the flowers in the garden today. But there is something on the move - pussy willows line the branches above the bird feeders all ready to burst, long tailed tits with pink and grey feathers flit from branch to branch muscling in on the bullfinches and the blue tits. A woodpecker whirrs in the early morning and its staying lighter longer in the evening. I'm on the move ...waking up from hibernation, having a look about, making plans, cleaning the old out to make way for the new. Waiting for the new shed to arrive, a load of topsoil will sort what was once the chicken run into a bit of an allotment - a bit shady but beggars cant be choosers.


We had to venture into uncharted territory today to fetch a load of hay. There are parts of this county I have never explored, always tending to hug the hillsides of the South so it was quite an eye opener to be in the flat arable swathes east of the Severn. Acre upon acre of cultivated land, few hedges, few houses, sparsely wooded. We spotted a field of cows enjoying the watery sun, let out for the day, a few ewes and lambs in paddocks side by side with rather smart horses wearing the latest fashion in designer rugs -( and those were just the sheep - sorry couldn't resist)


This evening found us on our explorations again as we delivered football wounded son to girlfriend's house to a village almost at the foot of the Stretton Hills and taking the opportunity to follow signs we wandered in and out of villages and hamlets of old brick cottages with mullioned widows, half timbered farm houses, beautiful barn conversions and then we saw Pitchford Hall as the dusk fell on the other side of the wooded valley - a fairy tale.

We had left youngest son in charge of the evening meal - getting some culinary practice in for those uni evenings. We arrived back to a perfect tuna and pasta bake - he'll be OK with a few more dishes on the menu besides beanz and pot noodles - one less thing to worry about - phew!

A couple of weeks ago we delivered him to the University for a visit and an interview - we sat in the car park and watched him nonchalantly stroll in - before his hand had touched the door he was talking to another lad and when we returned to collect him he was in a laughing group of Ned's, Joe's and Dan's swapping mobile phone numbers as if they had been on a holiday. While he was otherwise engaged we srtolled along the seafront in lovely sunshine - it was crowded - it was February - there were people with expanses of white winter flesh exposed to the sun - SUNBATHING in February - I give up!

Meanwhile back in the garden.............

The Generation Game

He's been! Every time our gorgeous grandson visits he leaves a little sting in the tail - this time he really hit the jackpot with three of us felled within 12 hours with the vile winter vomiting bug. The snow was up to the back door, the wind howling at the windows and we must have been the only people not attempting to get out. No - we were sitting round the log burner, pasty faced with mugs of weak tea and dry toast.



Make the most of it - I thought - catch up with OU homework - bah! Try writing a 40 line poem with a headache! Not a hope!



The biggest laugh we have had over the past three days was when the cat decided to join me in the bath. There I was up to my neck in Radox bubbles - in swaggers Dudley, never far from me when at home. He decided to jump up onto the bath which is curved and slippy but he has done it before. This time he slipped and jumped straight in - straight from a cartoon comes the tableux of me naked, desperately trying not to get scratched or bitten by very nasty cat, whilst trying to rescue said cat from rather hot bathwater. I grabbed him and hurled him out onto the floor whereupon he hissed and spat at me like a demented cat would do. I yanked the door open and pushed him out whereupon he proceeded to do circuits of the house leaving a wet trail behind him. He jumped on every bed! Two were occupied and the occupants could be heard a mile away cursing one extremely wet and extremely nasty cat.

All attempts at drying him with a towel failed miserably as he threatened to bite anyone with a towel in their hands. He lay in front of the log burner all morning and is now a very glossy if rather tetchy cat!

Somehow I doubt that 40 lines about a sopping nasty cat will be what the OU ordered so its back to the drawing board - big sigh!

I have never really been 'into' poetry. I think I was put off at a very early age - infant class to be precise. We were given the task of writing a poem about the seasons. I can still remember mine - it is etched on my memory for ever -

Spring is when the flowers start to bloom

Summer is when the roses come

Autumn is when the leaves begin to fall

Winter is when the birds have no food at all.

Not bad for a six year old but waspy teacher went right up the wall! I was truly mortified.

a) she was convinced I had copied it from somewhere - well I hadn't

b) that my parents had done it - but we did it in the lesson - I hadn't actually been home!

The only time a teacher smacked me and that was enough to turn me off poetry for life.

It was to be a crotchety english teacher, bless him, some years later that introduced the class to Dylan Thomas, John Betjeman, Ted Hughes and WB Yeats.

Don't think anything I write now will have such an effect as that first little poem in the infants - oh well here goes 40 lines to go and counting.

Still scrapping over one camera

What a beautiful day! The sun shone from a cloudless sky and the air was antiseptic in its cleanliness. I had to make a foray down into the foggy village in the valley for supplies - it was dark and gloomy. An atmosphere hangs as heavy as the fog in the village after tragedy struck in the early hours of New Years Day and two families have to come to grips with the aftermath.

I scuttled around the quiet shops and was soon back up in the sunshine. The frost glittered on every branch and twig and I was itching for my turn with the camera. The juniour shepherd had to relinquish it as he was destined for a logging trip. I was let loose with my own camera - WOW! So under the pretext of breaking a new pair of boots in I set off with the dog around the tracks and paths - it was wonderful. I was out there for hours - until the batteries went flat! As I made for home I realised the boots were rubbing like hell. The intrepid loggers appeared back, whereupon junior shepherd put a fresh set of batteries in and was back outside as dusk fell. He even met the fox who decimated our flock of chickens but all he had was a camera.

I think I lost the plot completely just before Christmas as I find little piles of lists and half written Christmas cards all over the place - I wonder if I could have a personal organiser to sort me out next year because I have decided I am useless at Christmas preparations - we get there - just! Wing and a prayer and tree up on Christmas morning - the turkey will arrive fully clothed one year - I just know it. Oh well bung the half ticked list on the log burner and better get writing letters to those folk whose cards are still here - this is her that fully intended to make her own cards - dont make me laugh! This is her that managed to loose 15 jars of marmalade for goodness sake!

The last two pics are from junior shepherd and we compromised with a shared slide show below!

so its goodnight from me and goodnight from him and if its a nice day tomorrow there will be more fighting over the camera........

As the shepherdess and junior shepherd fight over one camera

A compromise was sought!

New Year's Day 2008

In Northumberland last summer youngest son became inspired by the photography of the one and only @themill. I have had to fight to keep my camera! Anyway he went out today in the freezing cold for a couple of hours and came back with these. Very Lion the Witch and The Wardrobe I thought!

makes me shiver just looking at them ..brrrrrrrr! Oh and this is the photographer dressed up and ready for action!

Nearly through it .....

Never found the marmalade - goodness knows where it is going to turn up!
Got through it - feeling a bit queasy on times but not surprising seeing as how the world and his wife have the greenapple quickstep around here - yuk.
Currently 'persuading' recaltricant 17 year old to revise for January exams - so am sitting with him - he is writing up Geography notes I am supposed to be doing OU work but I'm cheating. He isn't - I keep checking!
Now just for Kitty and CJ is a tale of puppies.....

Being the proud owners of two rather gorgeous labradors - he being 'TC' and she being 'Josephine' we decided to breed them. I was giddy with excitement - couldn't wait for 'puppy' day. I read all the books, gave our Josie all the right supplements - cod liver oil and a daily egg, got the birthing chamber ready, collected newspapers - they tell you to do that in all the books so I did - had a mountain of the dratted things! I watched with eager anticipation as the day grew nearer.
Sunday dawned - we were having the in laws to tea and a couple of neices were staying. It was a lovely day in September all hot sun and flowers. Josie looked uneasy as I glanced through the kitchen window. I kept peeping out but she was lying full length in the sun fast asleep. Tea was nearly cooked, table laid, wine cooling - perfick!
Ooooooh no - Josie definitely uncomfortable and straining - nothing happening. Re-------lax.
Drain the veggies - stoooooooooooop - she's at it again - nothing happening. Re .....lax
Forget the tea I'm out there with her - us girls have to stick together like!
Ring the vet - 'Bring her up - I'll give her an injection to help things along!'
Of we go - calling over shoulder to visitors ' Wont be long but do carry on ......'
Vet examines a fed up Josie and gives her said injection, 'She should start delivering in about 45 minutes so you will have time to get home' ( we are 30 minutes from home) By now dusk is descending and we set out on the trip home along the country lanes.
Before we have gone 5 miles Josie makes a queer noise and there is a splat in the rear of the car.
45 minutes MY FOOT! We stop by the war memorial in Lydham in the dark with no street lights feeling around in the back of the estate car to find a fat wet mewling black puppy and Josie wondering 'where the hell did that come from?'
I volunteer to sit in the back with her and new baby for the rest of the journey which husband now decides should be made at breakneck speed - goodness knows why!
Before we have got to The More Arms pub Josie squirms and delivers another BLACK pup which I can't get hold of, cant see in the dark and dont want her sitting on. Husband's assistance is just to drive faster! As we hurtle down the Hope Valley - all sharp corners and wooded hillsides I am feeling rather car sick but Josie happily delivers another three pups which we can't see and there is an awful lot of warm wetness in the back of the car that I have no option but to sit in. YUK!
She delivers the final two at home in the right place under the supervision of 11 year old neice whilst I am in the shower and he cleans the car out.
NOW it should be just plain sailing, she is a lovely mother, the pups are all feeding well - Re --lax!
HAH! We didn't bargain for mastitis and ulcerated boobs after 7 days! Off to the vet with very dejected mother and pups desperate to feed. Antibiotics +++ and a tin of dried milk whereupon we start feeding the pups 2 hourly with a syringe - AND at night!
I was working in Ludlow then (30 miles each way) at the time and each morning had to set off with Josie, seven pups in a shoe box and a toddler to take to nursery, call at the vets for a daily antibiotic injection and so to work. An alarm was on the desk and it sounded two hourly whereupon we all downed tools and fed 7 pups with syringes, re set the alarm and carried on as per normal. This continued for two weeks day and night.
The vet doubted she would resume feeding duties but luckily for us she did - phew!
Following the books we had to worm these little bundles of joy and so one Saturday night we administered what trusty vet said.... he laughed quietly when I said I had never done this before.....and put them in the shed for the night. I opened the door in the morning and screamed the place down as there were piles of yellow spaghetti all moving wildly all over the floor, I have never seen anything so vile EVER! However the biggest shock was yet to come - by the end of eight weeks I realised I was pregnant - aaaarrrggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Fast forward to June to find new mum coming in from hospital after 10 days with carrot top boy child. New mum looks out of window to see dogs outside - new mum starts screaming uncontrollably - everybody rushes in to see what the fuss is about.......'THAT DOG IS PREGNANT' How come nobody else could see it I shall never know.
Husband despatched with Josie to vet for advice OR something! QUICK
He returns with the news that the pups will be born within the next ten days - new mother threatens to leave home IMMEDIATELY!
Ten days passes in veritible blur of feeding etc but a day dawns when I realise Josie is not 'right' in fact she is very 'wrong' as she starts to discharge green fluid. The books say at the first sign of green fluid PANIC. So I ring vet who appears and examines a fed up Josie, administers an injection and leaves me to cope single handed with baby and a straining Josie. I ring the vet after an hour because nothing is happening and he returns with a nurse and a box full of implements. He carries out a Caeserean Section on the work top in the utility room whilst baby has his sleep in the pram outside. I have never seen so much blood and mess EVER.
Hubby wanders in from work two hours later and enquires 'Tea ready?'
'SOD OFF' came the candid reply from the weary new mother scrubbing the walls.
We had to feed pups with a syringe AGAIN - two hourly AND at night!
Then just to show their gratitude they, being the second litter, ate the floor of the utility room!
Pups??????????????? I would rather stick pins in my eyes!
Good luck girls and should you need a hand you know who NOT to call!

Missing marmalade and things at the bottom of the garden!

Ok - a bit of a mathematical problem here....

one large bottle of whisky will be enough for three batches of whisky marmalade

each batch will produce 6, 7 or 8 jars depending on jar size -taking 7 as the average output and the fact that the whisky bottle was in the recycling box I reckon there should have been 21 jars of whisky marmalade on my shelf - OK so far?

now I can account for 6 so where are the other 15???????Well I cant find them and my 'interrogation ' of the rest of the family has met with totally blank looks that were not contrived.

I know I made the stuff so who has had it?

Sunday - I was perched on the front doorstep peeling onions - as you do - and thought I would have a quick rake round the dead leaves on the lawn and tidy the flower beds up a bit - anything for a break from peeling onions! As I raked and tidied up I was amazed to find the following -

A beautiful pure white hellebore in flower (didn't even know I had got one!)

A poppy in full bud (oops)

The bluebells have sprouted and are an inch above ground already (oh dear)

BUT we are about 750-800 feet above sea level, above the snow line etc etc!

December has been busy busy busy - we pinched a family day out at The Winter Fair in Builth Wells on a clear but freezing cold day. T enjoyed it immensely becoming quite the junior shepherd in the sheep sheds when he wasn't persuading grandad that he needs a real quad bike for Christmas! No hope! Meanwhile the Pickle Factory moves on relentlessly, the cake wrapping kit is out and I am really so looking forward to the spring cleaning on Boxing Day.

The new header picture was taken one beautiful December morning as I made my way from Mountainear's kingdom of Trelystan back along the spine of the Long Mountain - my late father's most favourite place. I stopped to take pictures of the views I knew so well from my childhood trips on a Sunday.

That's it then - back to the cake wrapping...........

I don't really 'do' a very good Christmas - too much poignant baggage, far too many spent packing little bags for Christmas at Daddy's. I do however have some lovely memories of past Christmasses - mum and I scuttling back from midnight mass along the deserted streets back home to boil the kettle and have coffee with brandy to get us warm. Walking on a Welsh beach with kids and dogs in beautiful sunshine. Another year walking in snow up to the Devil's Chair as part of the annual Dash and Dawdle and drinking rum and black - again to get warm! Dancing to new records on a new record player with my older very sophisticated cousin and turkey sanwiches for tea.

Now looking back at what I have written it it appears that my Christmaases are best if they include outdoor exercise wth alcohol - anybody want to join me?

But before I get energetic I have got to find 15 jars of marmalde from somewhere ..........