This old photograph, badly faded and worn, shows the mother of one of our village residents, she was collecting water from the garden well. What looks like blonde hair is, in fact, a Lincolnshire bonnet.
The old thatched cottage was demolished in the late 1960's. It had been put up for sale following the death of the owner. Shortly afterwards it was knocked down and replaced by a prefab. These days it would renovated and restored and sold for a tidy profit. In time, the prefab was demolished and a bungalow was built on the plot.
Farmer T spent some time mowing around the edges of our barley field yesterday, I was reminded of how the year is moving on. The barley was harvested a few weeks ago, the straw baled and sold. Up until last year it would have been used as bedding for Farmer T Snr's pigs.
Farmer T Snr loved his pigs. He had dozens of them, their fate may have been the same as that of those poor pigs who are raised in less than ideal conditions but, until that time, they lived the good life. Only ill health and increasing frailty persuaded him to give them up.
The pig farm is now home to farm machinery. The sheep dogs who guarded the pigs are underemployed. Luckily, they are also loved, if a little bored. Tractors, diggers and combine harvesters don't interest them nearly so much as those pigs did.
An old Lincolnshire song goes something like this:
I rent my shirt and tore my skin
To get my master's harvest in.
Hip! hip! hurrah!
Harvest in and harvest home
We'll get a good fat hen and a bacon bone.
Hip! hip! hurrah!
At the end of harvest, that wonderful day when the last cart load was taken from the field, the cart adorned with a green bough to show that it was the final one, there was cause for celebration - and jealousy, if you hadn't completed your own harvest.
Many fields have already been harvested, but others are still waiting. Tractors, trailers and combine harvesters will be trundling along the lane for a while yet. Of course the weather has reverted to what England does best - at least two seasons in one day. At the moment it is dithering between autumn and summer.
In our valley, the only harvest is grass, for silage or occasionally hay. It's fairly rare to see a ploughed field, though I did notice two when I was blackberrying the other day, but those will be planted with cattle fodder I am sure. Fields and climate here don't lend themselves to cereal growing, yet when we have been in Cardiganshire recently (e.g. along the coast), they are able to grow it there.
ReplyDeleteNote to self when moving: that means it's sunnier near the coast!!!
Blackberrying! I must go out along the old railway line and get picking, very remiss of me - of course that means taking my specs with me, + secateurs because no one else goes along there anymore!
DeleteAll those exciting things to be factored into a move, I hope that it all falls into place and you get everything on your wish list, with a few extras you hadn't even thought about.
Most of the fields around here have been harvested, they'll be round soon harrowing and sowing straight after the harrow. Very little ploughing is done. Next will be the wonderfully muddy roads when they do the sugar beet harvest but that's not for several months and will be late this year due to the drought
ReplyDeleteThe seasons roll on, whether we like it or not. It is easy to see the early signs of autumn around here, luckily I like autumn. We have had some real summer weather, my fingers are now crossed that we have the best that autumn can offer, but not for a few weeks yet!
DeleteYou're ahead of this Yellow Belly today - I've never come across that song.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't either, then I came across it in two different books, when I was reading about harvest suppers and celebrations.
DeleteHope the renovation work is on schedule for you.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marcia. It is moving on pretty quickly now!
DeleteWhat a shame the old cottage was demolished.
ReplyDeleteThere is little of any charm left in the village now, that was our last thatched cottage. :-(
DeleteThe change of seasons is happening a lot quicker than I wanted, the evenings are getting darker and drawing in very quickly. I was hoping for an Indian summer...
ReplyDeleteI tend to hang on to summer as long as possible; then celebrate the long dark nights with a store cupboard full of food, cosy pj's, cups of hot chocolate, a pile of new-to-me books (secondhand!), and lots of crafting, but you probably have your own coping strategies. Wool and tweed, peat fires, your preserves...
DeleteIt was loike that around here as well and I remember it being like that in Ireland when I was a kid
ReplyDeleteWhat part of Ireland was that?
DeleteThis is childhood memories for me. How good to know they're still happening.
ReplyDeleteI love walking Toby dog around the village, trying to visualise how it used to be, following the old paths and trying to pick up a few echoes of the past, Joanne. I hope those bones of yours are knitting together, behaving themselves.
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