hot cake and hot hens, err no - hot walk, hot dog, hens and carrot cake !

Himself has just left for work, the boys are still asleep upstairs and I am sitting quietly nursing a mug of coffee while I pick out the interesting bits of news that Radio 4 relentlessly churns out.

It sort of goes like this...

.........rumble...rumble...cricket, a decisive win.......rumble....waffle.......weather, there will be light showers in the north, brightening up later.......rumble...waffle...waffle.....So I said this to the prime minister - but you are not answering my question minister! - If you would give me time to reply!......................rumble rumble.... GOOO-O-A-L.!............

Any hoo -

Yesterday the boys and I had a really lovely 'us' day - all that was missing was our dear Himself :(

As planned we trundled off to the local tea rooms (plus giddy dog, walking boots and camera) where we sat outside in the heavy warm air and slurped cups of tea and scoffed rather large portions of cake (sorry - too busy scoffing and slurping to remember to take a photo!). Fully laden with our morning munchies we sort of struggled up the first hill, I never really fully appreciated the immense gravitational pull of tea and cake before - oof.....

Once up the hill (I make it sound HUGE - but it wasn't!) there was a wonderful cool breeze and a welcome seat - Lee's Bench.

Complete with fresh flowers and music festival tags. Regular notes and single blooms are left here by this young man's friends and family - he is still greatly missed.

We wandered through thigh high grasses and wild flowers as we headed towards the next village. There we dropped down a narrow stone-walled cobbled-path directly into the centre.

Giddy dog knows where the village's original water source is and she trotted off panting and hot. In the cool of the village green we found the 4ish metre wide stone trough with the bubbling spring. Pond weed waved gently in the slow current. There is a small plaque on the wall gently giving the history of the well - I must get a picture and post it, but it was so warm there that my brain had melted to a soft porridge and I forgot.

Once Giddy dog's thirst and hot feet were soothed, we continued down through the village back to the valley bottom, crossed the road and back up the other side.

One of our favourite stops is near the goose green allotments where there are hundreds of hens, geese, ornamental pigeons, turkeys, ducks and other strange and delightful water fowl and they are all free range in rather large pens - happy birds! Youngest had his camera and took one or two (hundred) pictures.  

We L-O-V-E chickens!!

Having torn ourselves away from the allotments we wandered through narrow pathways flanked by sweet peas and fading honeysuckle - in the hazy humid heat the scent was heady and indulgent - delicious.

Down the path to the lane, crossing over towards the school. Walking through the back lanes, seeing houses and folk we know. Despite it being the holidays - the village seems very quiet - may be the world financial difficulties hasn't prevented many of the families from going away.

Round the corner, cross the road and then we are home. Boots off, feet sizzling, dog flat out on the lawn cooling down - lovely lovely..

Later, feeling a bit less lethargic and bit guilty at our cake scoffing while Himself languished at work, I made him a cake - carrot and almond.  Now, I am well known for my inability to master the carrot cake with any degree of success and although this one was one of my better efforts it was still not quite right!

Still it was well appreciated and all my boys sat outside in the garden surrounded by the trappings of woodwork and power tools (big boy toys now) and ate cake as they batted off  our rather curious hens.

I chose to leave off the usual cream cheese topping as Himself had found some double cream on special offer and it just had to be eaten............

Well, been nice chatting to you, the boys are up, eaten their breakfast and are now getting restless - they need exercising! So today's 'big-boy-toys' will be a power hose, brooms and wellies - we're off to get wet and hopefully do a bit of cleaning. 

Have a lovely day coz we certainly plan on having (soggy) fun :)  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

July - in a montage (or 2 or 3!)

I've been gardening today and apart from feeling absolutely shattered I am happy happy happy (can you tell?!!). 

Years ago, Himself and I were watching some  mindless American sitcom (the name and story line have deservedly faded into history) but we do  remember one sentence the main protagonist said and it was..... 

I am very tired - but it is a good tired! 

Any way, in the spirit being on hols, I shall do a July round up in a trio of montages!!

Firstly - a mix-up of garden and garden festival pictures, the garden - despite my work-induced neglect - looked good but not good enough to win anything, but the boys did well both winning a second place in their catagories. 

Our knit and natter group took over a huge area in the local church and we displayed both flowers and our work and received loads of lovely lovely comments.

We managed to squeeze in a lot of family and friends time in between work and sleep - Youngest finished junior school (a mixture of sadness and glee) and won the Technical Cup which took us all by surprise and delight!!  

Our blondies (young hens) are growing both in size and friendliness - they don't get much choice with the friendliness as they are regularly seen firmly tucked under a boy's armpit (poor chooks). 

A tree house has been built and now is the centre of many a boy-game or just gentle contemplating of life as they lie on their backs and watch the sky. 

My Dad celebrated his birthday (from last year!!) with a helicopter flight and we went along to watch and share, we also took a picnic and spent a lovely day enjoying the sunshine and family. 

Poor old giddy dog has had more than her fair share (as she thinks) of baths recently as the boys have discovered the 'delights' of washing her in the wheelbarrow.....they fill it up with tepid water and she hops in (well she is instructed to jump in and she so well trained she does, despite really really not wanting to!) then she is lathered up until she looks like a meringue, rinsed and dried and then all three of them play up and down the lane until she is dry. 

Youngest has rediscovered his camera (strangely it 'appeared' in the greenhouse....) and has been taking photos of EVERYTHING! 

Our veg garden is doing us proud, we are harvesting a goodly amount for such a small space. Yesterday I lifted all the garlic and they are now drying. 

The black kale and the Chinese mustard have been featuring heavily in our 'garden soups' and the onions are excellent and won't be long before I have to lift those too. 

Our peas, although only a few plants - gamely gave us just enough to have as mange tout initially then peas in salads latterly while the butter beans have been delish raw as well as being chucked in soups. 

The potatoes are still quietly growing and I haven't had an investigation yet but the tomatoes and courgettes in the greenhouse are the best we have had so far. We've picked tomatoes every second day and have them in lunch boxes, in salads and on picnics.  The beetroot have been a bit of an experiment - usually I plant them individually and allow to swell, but this year somebody on television (for the life of me I can't remember if it was a chef who gardened or a gardener who cooked) said to leave them in little bunches and lift a whole bunch at a time and they are sweeter and cook quicker. They do cook quicker, but they are definitely fiddly to deal with - so the jury is still out. 

Leeks are growing nicely and the rhubarb is now resting after providing it's first good crop - it is still a young plant and I didn't want to frighten it too much!

Eldest's wheel barrow entry to the garden festival is providing us with salad and herbs on a daily basis - it has been so so successful that I will encourage him to do it again as it has turned out to be so productive!

Well, that's just a little taster of our July - not a lot was done, but so much happened! 

Tomorrow is the 1st of August - can you believe it?? This year has flown by - it will be Youngest birthday at the end of the month - it doesn't seem so long ago he was just a tot :).

Tomorrow we are celebrating our day by going off to the local tea rooms for the obligatory carrot cake and tea then for a walk to return for the boys to wallow indulgently in the huge paddling pool Himself bought for them today - we may have to crack the ice of the top first and beat back a polar bear or two....!

Right I am off to bed! G'night!!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

ooh it's lovely to be back :)

Random madness -

Have you ever had one of those moments, when you walk in and look at something and it is so odd that you don't even notice...................

Apparently all four of them were watching 'Shaun the Sheep' on tv.



My children levitate - can yours?

I have a hot dog with a foot long tongue.........

Talk about the hard sell........................no pressure then?

My life - in pictures - and yours?

*sigh*

Do chickens snore?

I walk down to the hens. Time to close them up for the night. It's dusk and the bats are out. Next door's barbecue has fizzled out, all that remains is a lingering hint of scorched sausages and charcoaled burgers.

I pass by my kitchen garden where I have worked all day. The pricked out spinach seedlings, still a bit sorry for their move are beginning to perk up while the onion sets look like they have been in situ all their little lives.

I look up into the darkening sky as a bat flits on silent wings above my head, twisting and turning around the greenhouse then disappearing over the hedge. I turn and follow the path along the lawn. Toys nestle amongst the columbine and carex grasses where they were abandoned during an earlier game. I must remember to tell the boys to collect them in. I stop briefly to look at the borders, and sigh at the thought of the enthusiasm of the weeds and the slothfulness of the perennials.  A day like today induces a wonderful surge of springlike growth - but it seems the nettles and the dandelions are quicker to capitalise on the warmth and light than the plants.


I duck my head under the tree who's branches reaches across the path as I enter the next part of the garden. I can feel a slightly furrowing of my forehead, this area is in desperate need of rejuvenation. Perennial mounds of various shades and shapes are growing, threatening to take more than their allotted space. Here the weeds struggle to find elbow room between the heavy weights such as the rudbeckia and giant scabious. I stop to muse the annual angst I have of which part of the garden to tackle first, when I hear a strange sound.

I stand statue like, straining to hear a warbling, rattly sound. All  I can hear is the distant sounds of a dog barking and a car driving.
Nothing.
I turn back towards the hens. That sound - I hear it again............ a rattly, short snorty sound, then a whistle, not a human tune but a reedy bird sound.

Rattle, whistle, silence, rattle, whistle, silence.

I stop again, to concentrate on the sound.

Rattle, whistle, silence, rattle, whistle, silence.

The sound appears to be emanating from the hen pen. I walk a little quicker, but as silently as possible. As I reach their shed the sound stops briefly. I hear a hen-grumble, a rustle of bedding and then it all settles down. Then as I open and step into the pen, that sounds starts again.

Rattle, whistle, silence, rattle, whistle, silence.

By now I am at the door, carefully as I can, I open it, and peer in..........there in the gloom 4 pairs of little beady eyes stare back at me. One of the hens gives a little chicken-chuckle, a bit more settling down then silence. Nothing. They stare at me as I stare at them.

Still nothing.

I begin to feel silly, they begin to feel uncomfortable. I shrug, wish them a good night, switch on their light, lock their door and leave. As I close the pen gate.........................


Rattle, whistle, silence, rattle, whistle, silence..................


Which begs the question................do chickens snore?

In which a tree eats my children, giddy dog spreads her toes and Eldest carries a heavy heart.......and I make biscuits! (14/52)

A brisk spring breeze cuts my cheek as I pull my hat down hard to just above my eyelashes. High above our heads a curlew screams a courting song while his mate whirls and wheels around echoing his every cry. The hump back hills beckon as we follow a centuries old grass-gentle path through the field. Each step takes us further into the view as we leave the car behind - it is Saturday and we are breathing - after the week I have just had, I need to breathe.

I can feel the earth beneath my feet and hear the giggles of my boys as they, like me, experience the release that only walking can bring. The dog, ball in mouth and wag on tail, trots around us, her eyes full of expectation and excitement as she invites the boys to play.

We reach our chosen spot and shelter out of the breeze while we eat sandwiches and cradle cups of tea in cold fingers. The still weak spring sunshine gently teasing us with shafts of light between the wind blown clouds. In the far far distance, almost too far to be clear, we can just make out the main road. Full of cars. Full of cars going somewhere, no where, any where.

Sheep bleat reassuring replies to their lambs as they call out incessantly. Small cat sized lambs on wobbly knobbly kneed legs. Still bearing umbilical cords, still placenta stained they lean against their mother's legs as they warily watch us as we stride by.

We reach a field we last visited several years ago. A sentinel tree stands tall and inviting. And, like they did last time we were passing through, the boys listened to the invitation - this time, it was a bit of a squeeze as they pushed into the open mouth. The last time, they both fitted into the cavity. How they have grown........

The tree had regurgitates the boys and we walk down into the valley,  slipping quietly in then out of a sleepy hamlet where we are escorted by what appeared to be the only living creatures. A rather handsome cockerel and his henny harem watch us with intense beady eyes. 





We leave the village and it's feathered bouncer and find ourselves alongside the River Wharfe. Although, today it meanders lazily over water worn stone slabs, the evidence of winter storms is everywhere. Our gritty pathway continues riverside where our previously delicious solitude is now interrupted by other walkers. Old dodderers to fleece-clad yompers, family groups nattering to serious booted and suited walkers striding self-importantly as they clutch walking poles and water proof maps. We retreat from the massing humanity and find ourselves a quiet shore edge where we eagerly drink  tea and munch on much needed chocolate biscuits.






Ahead is a narrow wooden suspension foot bridge that will swing and bounce with every step we take. We laugh as we anticipate giddy dog's approach to crossing this strange moving bridge. She lowers her head, spreads her toes and shuffles wide legged across.
















We chat, the boys play, giddy dog gets tired, she is getting older, as we all are, and her muzzle bears the tell-tail (sic) signs of greying. We stop so the boys can skim stones on a stretch of almost mirror calm water when after a while, Eldest who is now sitting on the river's edge finds a stone he wants to take home. He calls me over - it is more akin to a fossil filled boulder than the 'stone' he hints about and I am suitably impressed with his find and take a picture in lieu of taking the boulder as it seems far too large and heavy.

We set off, Eldest lags behind as Youngest skips ahead full of energy and chatter. I look behind and see Eldest is still lagging, I call. He smiles a reply and speeds up a little. Our walk continues away from the river, back into fields and farms. Back up hills and towards the car. Eldest is now struggling to keep up. We investigate.............the 'stone' now nestles happily in his haversack. We carry on up the rutted track, Eldest doing his best to seem unaffected by the huge lump on his back. I can not bear it any more and swap my pack for his and instantly wish I hadn't.

I now trudge.

As we walk through the final fields and farms, I feel relief as I can see in the not too far distance the car parked patiently waiting for us.

Later, now the boys have gone to bed, the house has taken on that  satisfied semi-sleep state, Himself takes the heart stone upstairs to weigh for me. It is 6kg (over 13lbs) ...........an awfully heavy stone heart for a slight 13 year old to carry.

It now sits on my dining room table...............



It is time for me to go to bed and I see it is no longer Saturday and is now Sunday - Don't forget that we change to British Summer time this weekend - Summer is on its way!

Look look look!!... or as my hens would say... clook clook clook!! A Henny-How-To and a clutch of tiny Hearts

But first......................................................................

Today's hearts 

are brought to you 

by my work colleague

 ... tiny tiny little wooden hearts

obrigado!

*************************************

As you know, last weekend we were busy building Chickenham Palace, but due to the weather and the fact the weekend suddenly ended (they do that you know, end suddenly.. anyway I digress),  by Monday we still needed to sort out a suitable nesting spot when gz from "ook?!"  suggested I had a look at this link for bucket nests and I am so, so glad I did !

Fired up with enthusiasm and then soon after being offered three buckets, I couldn't wait to get started.

1. My three glorious buckets just prior to their bath

2. The now clean lid, divided into three segments (drawn in pencil)

3. The lid segments now cut (I used a hacksaw and the recycling green bin as a workbench...!)

4. Segments on the buckets to make a threshold (to prevent the nesting material falling out) but the cut edge is a bit sharp for henny-feet so I followed the instructions to add wooden battens.

5. Measuring and marking the wood

6. Cut and ready to attach to the  lid segments (I used a wood saw this time to cut the battens and the buckets as my workbench)

7. I attached the wooden battens to the back of the segments with roofing tacks (recycled from a previous shed) 

8. In situ to see how they fit and look

Step further back to look again (see the mini solar panel top left corner? It powers a gentle light inside of Chickenham Palace all through the night) I am feeling distinctly pleased with myself.......

........All the time, I was being watched through the pop hole.

Suddenly I noticed the time, the boys would be finishing school soon, I quickly downed tools,  reluctantly abandoning  the project. But first I had to make sure the buckets would not roll around and frighten the birds then a quick tidy up before jumping in the car and heading off for the boys. 

Happy hennies checking out their new nesting boxes and looky looky what was in the middle bucket after I returned from collecting the boys from school!! Yay!

And I wasn't the only one who made their girls nesting boxes - Gwnïo from Gwnïo's Adventures also make bucket nest boxes for her birds!




Girl power!

Sunday round up

Today's heart 

is brought to you

 from one of my favourite pictures

a lovely play on words and a bicycle - excellent!

Picture supplied by a Sustrans booklet

**********************

Sunday - so of course it was raining......... it's kinda what we've come to expect at the moment, and in order to keep us all entertained we did loads of bake and make.  

Eldest made the kitchen his own...............

Youngest raided my stash and started making a 2CV - carefully snipping and cutting small pieces of felt, pinning both the fabric and his fingers, stitching and cussing, cussing and stitching....................

Himself carried on (in the rain and the mud) and finished chickenham palace, they now have a 'pop-hole' complete with mini locking door, porch cover and a brick for a step up (nothing is too good for his girls!)

He tried to start measuring up for their nest boxes when one of the hens decided she couldn't wait any longer to lay and bustled him out,  so he put a couple of mushroom boxes in as a temporary nesting place, then Himself came back to the house for a brew and one of Eldest's biscuits. After what he considered enough time, he returned to find the first egg in chickenham palace. The girls obviously approve, just need to finish making the nesting boxes proper - oh for a longer weekend!

And me? 

Well, when I wasn't helping Youngest source suitable scissors, checking which felt he wanted to use, showing how to pin without stabbing himself, threading his needle - first with blue thread, then with red, then back to blue.... or when I wasn't reminding Eldest to put in the key ingredient into his PEANUT BUTTER biscuits mix.....or running out between the rain drops to see how Himself and the hens were.....I was trying out this..............

It is from one of our Orkney Isle holiday photos of some of the stones in the Ring of Brodgar.

I'm trying some fabric art - sort of collage in cloth! I am sure there is a proper technical name for this style of sewing,  all I know that I end up with lots and lots of snippity bits and thread on the floor and a smile on my face :)       

I'd tried something a little closer to home and a lot smaller - my first attempt - I know that in time I will look back and cringe that I showed these rather amateurish attempts but for the time being I'll share my tentative steps. (All in the name of the Revolution!)

************************************

All for now, well that sort of sums up our weekend, a bit of sunshine a lot of rain, crafting, building, cooking and creating (a mess) - not bad really!  Once again it has been lovely sharing our weekend, hope your all had good weekends too xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hearts, hens, sunshine and sheds!

Today's hearts 

come with love 

(and mucky fingers) 

from my boys 

while we were in the hen pen 

for today.....

we built...chickenham palace!

For those of you who regularly meander through my day will recall our sad loss of two of our hens to a stoat.

We had promised ourselves and our birds, that come summer we would improve their pen and rebuild their hock and with that in mind, last autumn I started to move the compost heaps to allow us to move the hen pen to a more sunnier part of our rather shady garden. Then both winter (and her accompanying snow) and then the flu stopped all work. 

The stoat attack made us realise that the girls had been rather vulnerable and we had to get on and do their 'relocation relocation' before summer.

I managed to source a larger shed for them (had to scout around the tinter until I found one that was a good price), and was delighted when I also found an exceptionally good deal on a shed LED solar lighting system. We had been weather-watching since the shed arrived and  this weekend was the first decent day we could get out.

Over breakfast the four of us chatted through the plan and the more I thought about it the more complicated it seemed to be turning out to be.....

let me explain.

In autumn, as I previously mentioned, I had started to move the compost heaps from the north side of the garden over to where the hens are now (the south east side). But, while munching on toast, we decided that with a bit of judicial pruning we could get more light in the original pen therefore not having to move it, reducing an huge amount of work.

Then I thought about it a bit more.....

• The new shed needed to be constructed in situ as it does not fit through the hen-pen's gate
• the old hen-hock would also have to be dismantled in situ as this one doesn't fit through the gate either
• BUT!!!
• the part-moved compost heaps needed to be emptied FIRST and their contents returned to the original compost corner BEFORE we could do any construction/deconstruction work
• however, the remaining original compost heaps would need  to be emptied BEFORE-BEFORE the new un-composted material be returned to the now waiting compost bays (keep up keep up!)
• the new compost bays would also have to be dismantled in situ,  before any new shed building could begin
• we would have to sacrifice one youngish tree, prune the hedge quite severely, and tidy up an acer so to let in more sunlight
• the brick base for the new shed would need to be built
• Himself wanted to extend the life expectancy of the wooden floor and wanted to paint an extra waterproof layer on it's underside
• I wanted a thick thick pond liner layer to be laid on the inside of the shed floor to make it more hen poop-proof  so I could  continue using a substrate layer of shredded paper (I get an unlimited supply from work, which once the hens have had their use - goes on the compost heap)

I put the kettle on again............. and thought .....this was going to be a long day.

****************************

Now, at the end of the day, after we have eaten, compared all our aches and pains, (even snuck in a sneaky nap on the settee) we are rather chuffed with our efforts, but boy are we knackered!

And the hens loved the idea that they were able to roam free round the garden ALL DAY!

And if you survived all that, and still have strength for some more - follow this  link to see what hearty happenings happened heartily last year!

Thats all for now,

it's been lovely chatting to you and sharing our ( very muddy) day,

 g'night xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One of those mind-numbing moments

This morning a stoat got into our hen-pen and killed two of our girls.

What a waste, what a waste. The girls were up and ready for their breakfast when it struck. I found them and my first instinct was the mess had been caused by a fox, but our neighbour recognised it as the style of a stoat. Apart from the obvious visual evidence - what I was struck by was the smell - a strange sweet and cloying stink that hung over the air and clung to my clothing.

It was awful having to collect up the bodies and clear away the feathers. The other hens were very distressed and refused to eat preferring to hunch up at the far corner. I let them out into the garden and they very quickly disappeared into the meagre winter undergrowth of the garden. They stayed out all morning and I only managed to get them back in by the devious means of a slice of stale bread - how quickly feather-heads forget.


So, poor dear Rosie the Tea-Cosy and Tatty-bird are now no longer.

Rosie

Tatty-bird

*******************************

Counting counting 19

Another bitterly cold day. Himself was outside most of the morning sawing wood. As he worked, tendrils of steam curled off his back. Around his feet, the hens inspected his every move. Released from their pen, they have access to the entire garden but choose to linger by the wood pile. Their quick eyes and almost quicker beaks find things to eat. In the woodshed near by, Giddy Dog shivered - not with cold but with excitement as she watched the hens. She knows they are forbidden to her but each scratch, each peck and each step is closely watched.
After lunch the boys wrap up warmly for an afternoon of sledging. I chose to stay behind. Yesterday's walk made me so so cold that my jaw and cheekbone ached for hours afterwards. I having crafting and writing to do, and the lure of the crackling fire and the promise of a mug of tea is enough to keep me home.

***************************

30.11.10 Today - last day in November and it's a white out

Outside - sliding cars, slipping buses,  pedestrians precariously trudging.

Inside - crackling fire, steaming mugs of tea, computer humming, crochet hook inviting.

Outside - brilliant white and true sky blue.

Inside - warm and cosy.

Outside - brittle and sparkly, crunchy and slippery.

Inside - boys curled up on the settee - relieved of scholarly duties.

Outside - frozen ponds, fluffed up hens drinking from freshly warmed water.

..............................................................And it's only NOVEMBER!