Going, Going & Gone

 Several years ago, I mentioned to my husband that I thought the big log store was starting to tilt.  He took a look and assured me that I was mistaken, all was perfectly as it should be.

To be fair, the winter storms have done some extra damage, and as you can see, that particular store has now become nothing more than a dumping ground for rat traps, pickaxes, tools, tubs and anything which doesn't have an official home.  It is now a wreck and he has had to admit that yes, it is tilting!

Never mind, it is set to become a project for Grandpa and grandson to work on during the summer.  That should be fun and a good test of their relationship.

That is where it fits into the garden, down by the vegetable beds.

It looks so much better from a distance.

A few days ago this beautiful, old ramshackle shed was taken down.  Not one of our sheds, I hasten to add.  This old place used to be home to a beautiful Barn Owl who would perch on a beam, just above the head of dear old Arnold, a horse who used to take shelter from the midday sun in there.  The two animals were perfectly at ease with one another.

Of course Arnold is long gone, so is the owl.  Goodbye old shed, it really was good to know you.

A little further into the village, although just across a couple of hedges if you go the field way, was this cottage.  It had been empty for several decades while there were discussions about what to do with it...

It had a huge garden at the front, and it looks as though there used to be an archway through the middle of the cottage(s).  It had some charm about it, but it was in a dreadful state.

Another building gone.  Demolished and a new build in there.

Typing this, my eye keeps getting drawn to the enormous chimney stack on the cottage.  In all the years I walked past it I hadn't noticed how out of proportion it is to the size of the cottage.

All these little changes, old buildings gone and something rather less charming built in their place. Change happens, even in a tiny village.     

I need to remember that chimney, keep it in proportion!

Wednesday

Last Saturday my oldest grandchild was 16 years old.  The request for a Victoria Sponge Sandwich cake seemed a little modest for such an important birthday.  So I made it a triple decker, pulled out all the stops and gave it my best effort.

 No finesse, but it made my grandson's eye open wide with delight, and that was the aim.

On Tuesday, I paid another visit to Winston.  When I arrived there were nine puppies romping around their pen, wrestling with one another, dragging toys around and generally having a great time. 

Winston, next to the toy, this photograph makes him look larger than he is.

The tenth puppy had fallen asleep by the water bowl.  Young Winston came over to see me, had a bit of fun and then just keeled over with tiredness.  The remaining puppies continued to chew my fingers, clamber all over me and generally have a good time.  As the minutes ticked by, each one flopped over to sleep.  Full tummies and tiredness did their work.  Peace for half an hour.  Their mothers (the canine one, and the human) were delighted.  

I left them to it and came home to get working on the list of things I need to do before the puppy comes home.

Back to today.  I did a little housework, then walked into the village to have coffee with a friend.  

A retired farmer, R is a no nonsense, straightforward woman.  We have known each other for well over a decade now.  She worked her own farm in a neighbouring village, sheep mostly, with a few head of cattle.

Our friendship really began at the village hall, not long after she sold the farm and retired to this village.   This was back in the days when we used to have a  'TED' meeting once a month.  There would be some kind of activity - local history, cards,  craft talks...all pretty excruciating, apart from the local history,  but the people who gathered together were a nice bunch.  It was just some of the activities which were rather cringe-making.  

The virus put paid to all that.  When things got back to normal we changed to monthly coffee mornings, with cake, or soup and a roll.  It has proved popular and brought in some slightly younger faces.

This is R's Bill.  He was a feisty little dog who turned up as a stray, at R's farm, many years ago.  After a week in the dog pound, with no one interested in him, R took him home and he lived very happily with her until he became ill a couple of years ago.

R and I took a while to get around to discussing politics, probably around two years!  It would be true to say that it was a pleasant surprise to find that our views aligned.  It was good to see her today,  we both had a rant.  My blog is not a soap-box for my political/world views,  but there are times when I wish it were!  

In a little over two months it will be time for the annual village show.  I'm not sure what we will have ready, but we will do our best to enter some classes.  I must see if I can get my hands on a schedule and do some planning, jam, pickle, curd and cakes are fairly standard.  It would be good if there was a bread category, I could have some fun. 

I noticed today that the elderflowers have begun to flower in reasonable numbers, time for me to get making some elderflower cordial, perhaps even an elderflower and ginger one, for variety.  Elderflower champagne is easy and delicious but I do not want to risk having any glass bottles explode in the pantry, not with Winston around!

Finally, the drizzle has stopped, a good breeze is blowing the grass dry, so I hope to be able to get outside and do an hour of mowing before I decide that enough is enough for today.  It is May, lots of people like to do No-Mow-May, really not practical in this place, far too much lawn.  We always leave a large area to go wild through the summer, plus there is all of Owl Wood, which pretty much does its own thing until much later in the year.

Coming Soon to Parsonage Cottage

 

This is Winston, he is just six weeks old and is still with his mum at the moment.

All my previous dogs have been second hand, rejects from dog rescue centres, usually the special offer of the day.  One or two had had extremely rough lives.  They all required lots of love and patience and ultimately they grew to be the most wonderful companions, they learned to live with cats, chickens and my grandchildren.

I wanted to do the same this time round, but it has proven to be very difficult, for various reasons.

Long story short, this little fellow is the smallest, the runt, from a litter of 10 puppies born just a couple of fields away from here.  Long time readers will know where I mean, when I say that he was born at Old John the beekeeper's place.  

Bread Oven, the Adventure Begins

 Books and online information have been consulted, discussions held, measurements taken and retaken.  Plans drawn up, calculations made. More discussions.  

Finally, the ground is being cleared and footings dug.  It will take time.

That was a few days ago.

Very old much used bricks have been cleaned and are being reused.  I particularly wanted to use old bricks, because I do not like perfection and newness.  I like things to look a bit battered, old, settled.  It makes more work, progress is slower, but I am thrilled with how it is going so far.

This is the raw state, the bricks will have to be pointed and that will have to be done carefully.  So far, so good.

Too much of my time lately has been spent in trying to find a second-hand dog to fit into our family.  Again, I don't want new, or perfect, I want to give a new life to a dog which may have had a hard time of it.

I also have to make sure that it will be able to fit around the two cats, the grandchildren, not upset my husband.  Most of all, I really need one to take out on my walks.  It has been two years since I lost my walking companion, Toby Too.  

Time is ticking, and the feeling that I need another dog just won't go away.

I have enough room in my heart and in my home for one more dog to share my walking adventures with.

Unwelcome Visitors

There have been two occasions in my life when my sleep has been interrupted by extremely unwelcome visitors.    The first occasion was when I was a teenage schoolgirl, living with my family up in the Western Isles.  

We lived almost smack bang in the middle of the island, in an old croft house.  The house had electricity, peat fires, an old Rayburn and water was pumped up from a well for all things other than drinking or cooking.  Safe water had to be brought in from town in some very large containers which my father filled when he was at work at RAF Stornoway.

Living conditions were fairly basic but I loved it there.  We had our dog and several cats, plus I was allowed to help out with the animals on the croft next door.  (School life was another matter!)

One night I was tucked up, fast asleep in my little sloping-roofed bedroom, when I felt something heavy on my feet.  Half asleep, I thought it was one of the cats come for a visit.  Then I remembered that they had all gone out for a night of hunting...I sat up, put on my bedside light just in time to see a large rat jump off the bed and scoot away.

No one got a great deal of sleep that night.  The rat was eventually caught and the cats all received a strongly worded lecture about failing in their duty.

Last night I had another nocturnal visitor.  I was woken by something dropping onto my bare shoulder.  Half asleep, I initially thought it was my hair, then realised I haven't had long hair for quite a while now.  Quick as a flash I put on the light and saw a spider in bed with me.  Eeeek!

I wasn't quick enough to catch him, but I did send him off with a few dark words.  

To think that only yesterday I had rescued a spider which was trapped in the bath.   I may have to reconsider that policy.

No doubt everyone has similar tales to tell, I would love to hear some.

Growing Like a Weed

Thank you very much for all the help in identifying the Wych Elm.   Jabblog-many thanks!  The Wych Elm will now be protected from nibbling deer and will, I hope, spread through the hedgerow.

This weekend has been warm and sunny which is very unusual for a Bank Holiday weekend.  I have begun packing away some of my winter woollies, so we could have snow next week!

*     *     *

My granddaughter had a friend stay over for the holiday weekend.  

They get on really well and don't need to be entertained.    However, as the end of the visit loomed they began to get a bit downhearted.  Granny to the rescue.  I got out the "dressing-up box".    Two newly teenage girls playing dress-up?  Sounds a bit childish?  

Aha!  But I had two special dresses for them to try on.   Two wedding dresses.  

One is my daughter's wedding dress, the other an unused medieval-style wedding dress from a charity shop -  a £5 bargain from about a decade ago.  At the time I was looking for fabrics for dyeing and sewing and all that silk for £5 was too much of a bargain to resist.   My daughter doesn't believe in hanging on to clutter, I am a bit more sentimental, I wasn't going to let her wedding dress go to a charity shop.  Both dresses have been in my dressing room in their zipped bags.

This is my granddaughter, wearing her mother's wedding dress.  She was thrilled that it fitted her so well, so did the wedding shoes.  

They had a great time wearing the dresses and pretending to get married.  Both girls are very sporty, very slender and tall.  They wore the dresses well.  

I think my daughter was delighted to see her dress being modelled so beautifully.  It made her realise that she made a great choice all those years ago!

This is my little flower fairy just a few years ago.  How quickly they grow.