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 ..........

chicken and beetroot!

What a two weeks since I last posted. Grey mist has hung over us like a thick soggy blanket only allowing the sun through on occasions to brighten up the gloom. Yep - me as well! What with the fox calling one lunchtime and reducing my happy little flock of feathered friends from 16 to four in one fell swoop, the head cold from hell and lets face it -its November good old Christmas on the horizon and everybody know how much I love that!

Even a street party failed to get me bouncing off four walls as it usually does but I enjoyed Toby watching the fireworks and giggling as we shouted 'bang' together. He held his first sparkler under grandad's tuition.

We took the decision immediately that our chicken keeping at this house was indeed well and truly over. The bonfire at the party was built up with our chicken pens, fencing and run. In the middle were the headless carcasses of Mr Phillpott our pet duck and his chicken wife Martha, along with the rest that were left for Mr Fox to call back for when he needed another meal. Sorry mate - we over cooked them. I well remember all the evenings we had sat outside and shared tit bits with Mr Phillpot - he loved a party night it seemed fitting he should be there at the end.

As we dismantled the runs in the daytime we had found some survivors, one even came out of the bonfire. We collected them together caught them up and put them in the shed out of harms way until we could decide what to do.

So today found us on the road South to Leominster to meet another blogger Woozle 1967 with four chickens on board. We had an assignation in a carpark by a fire station for 3:30pm. We found the place and decided to have a walk round because we were early. As we walked between the cars the shepherd pointed to something on the ground 'somebody has lost their beetroot' he remarked - and there it was, a big bag of beautiful beetroot, all on its own, by itself with nobody with it. Now having walked out of a shop this morning leaving the most stunted beetroot tied in bunches of five with a price tag of £1 this was indeed a find. We looked round the car park, we noted some had been kicked over to the grass and abandoned so with no more ado we scrabbled around on the ground and collected them all up and before you could say 'pickle' they were all in the back of the truck up and by the end of tomorrow they will be reformed into beetroot chutney.

The chickens were soon on their way further South to a new home where I know they will be well cared for - thank you Woozle. (and if you think 'purple' women can talk - you should see what happens when 'purple' men get together......)!

We drove back home in silence just a stop at The Ludlow Food Centre at Bromfield to find something 'different' for this evening's meal. This infernal virus has left me without any taste buds and most food is like eating chaff.....and so back home ....no chickens to shut in.....no duck on the doorstep.....end of an era...well just for now anyway.

I shall just have to say it ....its nice to be home!

We set out for the Welsh Coast last Thursday with some objectives loosely in mind, one being a day at Aberystwyth University with youngest son having a good old mosey round at The Open Day, another was to meet friends in Dollgellau on Friday. We chose to stay at a cottage we stayed in many years ago quite frequently but have not been back for a number of years and the ownership may have changed a few times in that period. I shall not hanker to return again.

The journey up to the coast started promisingly enough but finished in a howling gale and torrential rain in a prematurely dark afternoon. I had driven the whole way in the truck and by the time we parked I was clenching the wheel so tightly I thought I was welded to it. Scary stuff believe me - so scary the shepherd was travel sick - well there's a first and my goodness did I gloat! He is always so unsympathetic when it's me or the boys suffering - ha - revenge and all that ......

He recovered quickly enough on terra firma and a with a strong cuppa. Later we made our way down to the pub for an evening meal. We sat looking out at the stormy waves throwing the boats about that were anchored in the harbour feeling more queasy as the evening passed.

Friday dawned quite early - well the bed was that hard I just had to get up and go for a walk. The storm had abated, all was well with the world and Aberdovey looked as beautiful as I had remembered it, with the views out to the sea and across to Ynyslas and Borth on the other side of the Dyfi estuary. We were soon on our travels towards Dollgellau along the coast road to Tywyn and then along the Mawddach estuary through Fairbourne. Dollgellau is not somewhere I remember very well but with the sun shining from a bright blue sky it did not seem so dismal as I expected. We found the livestock market which was huge with sheep in pens as far as the eye could see. Shepherd heaven! We found our friends and sat nattering over coffee in the ramshackle cafe. I could not understand a word that was being spoken as dozens of old shepherdy men down for the day exchanged greetings and probably insults over their steaming mugs in broad Welsh.

Eventually we left the market but not before I snapped the lorry owned by the ram dealer!

We wandered around the little town, quirky and narrow. The stone used in the little buildings looks big and awkward and gives the whole town a strange look, almost as if children built it in a hurry.

The views of the hills on the way back were beautiful and we stopped off in Tywyn for a wander along the sea front virtually deserted in bright warm sunshine.

Saturday found me up pacing the floor again just in time to catch the dawn breaking over the Dyfi - one moment pink the next minute gold. I knew we were in for trouble - Red sky at night shepherd's delight, red sky in the morning shepherd's warning. We were on the road to Aberystwth by 8:30 and it was raining steadily by the time we reached the University Campus. We spent the day milling aound with numerous other worried parents with their 17 year old sons and daughters all trying to look so cool and failing miserably. I sighed a big sigh - if only I could have my time again I'd be banging the door down to get in -

Down on the seafront huge waves roared along the harbour wall and exploded over the parked cars. The sky just opened - emptying rain and hailstones on us as we ran for the cover of the truck. The drive back to Aberdovey was a nightmare I would rather forget!

Sunday morning I was almost too scared to peep through the curtains in case the storm was still raging. Just grey and quiet - phew! We had to be on our way by 10am, by 9:30 we were packed and the little cottage polished and swept. We gingerly made our way along the estuary road flooded in places with leaves in the drains. Waterfalls cascaded down the hillside onto the road. Everything looked very well washed in the golden autumn sun.

When we reached the Pont Dyfi bridge just outside Machynlleth we were amazed. The floodwaters were filling the arches of the bridge and at any moment were about to erupt into the road. The bridge was closed and we were diverted through parts of the Dyfi valley I had never seen before. Farmers with trailers and lorries darted everywhere hurrriedly moving livestock to higher ground, a very busy Sunday in Wales.....

We passed a group of traditional gypsy caravans, the happy goat in the little trailer on the back munching away, sadly everybody else looked pretty wet and bedraggled.

It was just so nice to trundle up the hill, see our sheep quietly grazing in the sun, the cats met us at the gate and the dogs set up a chorus of welcome.....home sweet home!