Sunday, 1 September 2019

Time to Move On

I began this blog in July 2015 when I created a little imaginary village, gave myself and everyone, including all our animals, new names, mixed locations around and about, while still writing about life around here.

It has been fun sharing those 500 or so posts with you, making new friends, as well as getting back in touch with the bloggy friends I have known since the long ago days of Pear Tree Log.

The winds of change are blowing again and I feel the need to abandon this blog, reinvent myself and get going again, under a new name and probably in a new setting.

Until we meet again - very best  wishes and a huge thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read and/or comment.


Wednesday, 7 August 2019

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Last night I was sound asleep, no doubt snoring like a piglet, when my dreamless sleep was rudely interrupted by a very loud and most peculiar sound.   I sat bolt upright, trying to make sense of what had woken me.   

The sound I had in my head was like that of a gigantic rain stick, or a thousand long thin aluminium sticks being dropped from a height, a fractured sound, yet it was altogether.  It was weird.    Husband slept on, oblivious.

I got up and checked on the animals,  they were all fine.   No security lights had come on, no alarms were ringing,  so it was unlikely to be intruders.   I decided that I must have imagined it, or had an auditory dream.

I went back to bed, still puzzled, but too sleepy to do anything more about it.

My daughter came round this morning - as you may recall, she lives just across the garden, in the old farmhouse, her first words were to ask whether I had heard anything in the night...

She and her husband had both been woken by a loud noise, they thought it sounded like a 'fizzing firework'!   They got up to investigate.

It turned out that an old oak tree, just a few yards along the lane, had collapsed.    Luckily it had fallen away from the lane, although a couple of large branches were across the road and had to be chainsawed before being dragged away.   I slept through all that!

This is not the tree which collapsed, but it is a truly ancient oak which can be found a couple of miles away.     It is recorded as being almost a thousand years old.    They say that oaks grow rapidly for the first 120 years, begin to produce acorns after about 40 years, continue to grow until they are about 300 years old, spend another 300 years maturing, then gently decay for their final 300 years, or thereabouts.

The tree which crashed down in the night was a mere youngster then, for I reckon it was no more than three or four hundred years old, but it had probably been choked to death by the ivy which had twisted and twirled up the trunk for almost as many years.

Sunday, 4 August 2019

Come On Through..

...and I will share a few snippets about this summer at Parsonage Cottage.

It will be remembered as the 'Summer of Swallows', for the simple reason that a pair of swallows decided to build a nest, high up in the rafters of the new barn.     They were brilliant parents and have successfully raised and fully fledged five young.    The amount of 'air traffic' in and out of the place caught the attention of the cats, too high up for them to be able to cause any problems, luckily.

Instead, they have turned their attention to rats and, since the barley field was harvested, they have caught two and left them on the patio.   I say they, but I think it is semi-feral Sparky who has done the catching, Millie's (ginger cat)  preference being birds.

Family visits, family gatherings and celebrations, gardening, reading and lots of long walks with Toby pretty much account for the rest of my time.

Barbecues and lots of guests, long lazy evenings spent chatting and catching up with everyone.

The weather has been very British, often three seasons all in one day.    Changeable.

Some baking, of course.  

Time spent walking my little gang around Owl Wood.


My next job will be to start mowing the lawns, a few years ago I would mow them all in one day.   It takes me two days now - and that's not because we have expanded the garden, so it must mean that I have slowed down.    Ah, well.

My best wishes to you all, hope you are enjoying your summer.

Sunday, 16 June 2019

Another Village Hall in Lincolnshire

It is so tempting to talk about the weather, the rain, the floods, the cold - but I won't.   

I took a drive to a different part of the county, yesterday.   

A surprise birthday tea had been organised, to celebrate a cousin's 80th birthday,  in Glentham village hall which is a bit further north and on the other side of the Lincolnshire Wolds.

The hall was pleasantly full, tables were set with starched white cloths, prettily patterned and mismatched china, vast platters of tiny sandwiches, dainty scones, savouries, and lots of homemade cakes.   

When the guest of honour arrived she was genuinely surprised to find a large number of her family and friends, plus her art class and writing group waiting for her.      Somehow the sixty/seventy people had managed to keep the secret.    Even this little chap hadn't blabbed a word of it to his great granny.

He was so proud of his face paint that I had to take a photograph.     

It was great fun catching up with everyone.      The family line is very complicated so I have given up trying to work out exactly what kind of cousins, etc they all are.    Let's just say that for a young woman born in the Victorian era my grandmother must have had quite a strong and resilient character and, despite everything,  my grandfather's 'first' family all adored her. 

Unfortunately, I never met her, she died a few years before I was born. 

Yesterday I could hear the genuine affection in their voices when they spoke of her.     How I wish I knew the whole story, but the dots still don't quite meet.     

It must remain a mystery.

Poppies are out in full force.

Walks are breathtakingly beautiful, the world is washed and clean.

Everywhere looks as it did before, except for the mud.

Wednesday, 17 April 2019

Parsimonious Parsonage Cottage

Parsimonious, but effective.

Today we have put the parachute up in the conservatory.   The gentle drapes of soft and faded green parachute silk lend the room an air of tranquility and shields us from the dazzling sunlight - welcome though that is.

It cost the princely sum of £30 (years ago)  and has been worth every penny. 

It goes up each spring, when the sun reaches a certain point in the sky, then stays up until around September/October.       A quick shake, fold and roll, and it goes back into the loft until the next season.

Cheaper than blinds, just as effective.

A boring post, but this is the best I can come up with at the moment. 

It looks as though we are in for some fine weather - fingers crossed - for the holidays.     It will certainly be nice to feel some warmth, lose that bitterly cold easterly wind.

'Til next time.

Sunday, 3 March 2019

Real Life

Life chugs along quite happily and predictably, then every now and again something crops up and throws things out of kilter. 

One minute you are up, the next minute, down. 

Real life.   


My way of dealing with things is to walk the dog, bake bread, take refuge in my old books...and that is what I will be doing for the next few weeks.     I won't be writing any blog posts, although I am sure to do some blog visits, even if I don't leave many comments.

I just need some quiet time to make some adjustments, to think things through.    Nothing too terrible has occurred, so don't worry.

I will disable comments, for this post.   As you know, I enjoy answering them normally.   
(We are all different, but not to respond always feels to me like bad manners, even though I don't always manage to complete the task!  Please note: this is me, taking about me, not a comment on how anyone else deals with comments!)

I hope to be back in a few weeks.