February

February, possibly the least liked month of the year. 

Despite the gloom, the mud and the insidious chill, I quite like it.

I love being able to see the bare contours of the land, the tracery of the trees, the bare fields.   

Winter walks through fields and along tracks mean that the dog and I will be squelching through mud and puddles.     Even so, there is something wonderfully exhilarating about being out in the cold, fresh air and pale sunshine, as long as you are wearing suitable clothing and footwear, of course!

Shadows and shade. 
Longer views, thanks to the lack of leaves, give surprising new glimpses of some favourite old places.


Learning the true lie of the land, sometimes so  different from how it appears when everywhere is dressed in summer finery.

Beautiful little glimpses.






Weak wintery sunshine adds a little warmth to the winter palette.

Countless snowdrops lift the gloom of the woodland floor.





Snowdrops will soon give way to the golden trumpets of daffodils.  They, in their turn, will make way for the haze of the bluebells and wild garlic.   









Home again, and the sunlight hits upon a cluster of crocuses, encouraging them to 'open wide'.

First job is to get rid of the mud from my boots, then comes the more time-consuming job of cleaning down the dog.

"Paddy-paw, paddy-paw.  Rub a dub a dub dub dub. Good boy!"

Hands washed, then on with the kettle for a good cup of tea. 

Bliss.

Soup is nearly always on the menu during winter.   Always home made, preferably served with a wedge of home made bread or a slice of quiche.

I make a large pot, normally sufficient to last three or four days.    Like most things, the flavours mellow and meld, so that the soup tastes even better, a couple of days later,  than it did on day one.


I made a very simple vegetable soup, nothing special, so I won't bother to give you the recipe.

This is a walnut and broccoli quiche - tasted much nicer than it looks, I promise.


The pastry recipe was a new one to me, using warm water and Marmite to mix...      I wasn't sure that it would work, but it turned out short and crisp, perfect and tasty. 

I will definitely be making it again.

Pastry:

175g (6oz) wholewheat plain flour
75g (3oz) Butter or Margarine
1 tsp Marmite yeast extract
Warm water to mix

Rub the fat into the flour, stir in the Marmite, then mix the pastry to a manageable dough using warm water.   Lightly knead on a floured surface, the roll out and use to line your tin.     Chill.         Bake blind for ten or fifteen minutes before adding the filling of your choice.

Tea and Cakes in Little Bunting

Little Bunting is a tiny village, deep in the heart of Lincolnshire.

The village school, the blacksmith, grocery shop, butcher's shop and draper's have long since gone, as has the post office.

We have a friendly village pub and a tiny village hall, so there is still some sense of community.

On special occasions Little Bunting has even been known to 'get out the bunting' as everyone gathers on the village green to catch up with friends, eat, drink and play silly games, but these times are rare.

It is such a sleepy kind of place that when the nearby watermill peacocks go walkabout, a phone call results in their keeper coming along on his scooter to round them up - and they obediently stroll along the road and back to where they belong.

Tiny cottages and this beautiful dovecot are just two of the places which I see on my daily walks.

Butterbump Splash is where the lovely historic watermill may be found, and Dovecot Dell is home to this wonderful old dovecot.  

These three very small villages are separated by just a couple of meadows, so gatherings generally include people from all of them, and even then numbers are low.


A couple of weeks ago a piece of paper was placed in our mailbox, it read: Tea and Cakes, Village Hall, Monday 9th May  2pm.

That was it.

I had no idea who had sent it, who was baking the cakes, doing the organising, or whether anyone would attend.


This photograph pretty much shows the whole of our village hall - I did say it is tiny - this was one of our village shows.  Of course the bunting came out then too.

No bunting today, though.
But as I approached the village hall I could hear the murmur of several voices, which was encouraging.     I went inside to find a dozen people, including a couple of men, sipping tea, munching on delicious cakes.

Village elder, Joan, had made them, a wonderful fruit loaf, a chocolate cake and a fabulous Victoria Sponge Sandwich.     It was a shame that the utilitarian cups and saucers had been selected, it would have been so much nicer to drink from the best ones and the cake certainly merited such company.

Still, given that I ended up doing the washing-up perhaps it was just as well!

It was good to catch up with old friends and to meet some of the new people.

So Little Bunting's Village Hall is back in business again, for now.

Preparing for the next Round

Today has been spent doing normal things, a small oasis of calm before our next lovely guests arrive.

Dobson was having an off day and refused to walk along the lane with me.   I tried persuading him, but he dug he heels in.   I wasn't prepared to drag him along on a walk, so I took him back to the garden and went off by myself.

Through Butterbump Splash and along the lane to Dovecote Dell.

I took a small detour to the church yard, then down through the farmyard - a very muddy farmyard, just as well I was wearing Wellies.   The air was mild, the sun was shining.   It was wonderful.

Back home, I baked a sponge cake and a load of chocolate brownies, then used the sponge to make an enormous trifle.   Beth and James are staying with us for a few days, so they will make short work of it.   I also made a vast potato salad and a big pot curry.    I plan to do relaxed entertaining and easy meals.

Max has been busy in the garden - shredding the mini mountain of sticks which have blown down through the year.      They were soon shredded and scattered along the pathways around the vegetable garden, forming a nice dry surface.    

We always enjoy this job - it tidies up the woodland and it provides us with free mulch.  Win-win...and fresh air, to boot.

Poppy, Miles, I'll post photographs and more news tomorrow.    The internet has been dropping in and out today, sorely trying my patience.

XXX

Flying Hooves on Saturday

My Saturday morning was quiet, some simple pottering, walking the dog, and a little sewing.  Gentle and enjoyable.  

Max continued working on the hen house extension.  

The extension is going to become a garage for Hector's little car, which will be a great improvement on the nylon car cover, which probably wouldn't survive another winter.

I decided to nip down to see Benedict a little earlier than normal as I wanted to go to the Little Bunting Bazaar and I didn't want to arrive there in my dirty old jacket and horse-grubby hands, although I am sure no-one would have noticed.

Because I was early Benedict was in the middle of the field, grazing.   As I went in the yard he lifted his head and looked across, then amazed me by whinnying and cantering over to me.

I didn't know that old horse could move so fast!    

He was all flying mane, tail and hooves.   It was impressive and beautiful.    He finished up with a playful (powerful) nudge of my shoulder, almost knocking me off my feet.

I think he was happy to see me!   Of course he associates my visits with food and company, a bright spot in his quiet day.    I hope he also feels some of the love I have for him, he certainly stands there stoically, as I hug him and murmur sweet nothings to him.

A quick nip home, to wash my hands and change into something a little cleaner, then I walked back along our muddy little lane (wearing wellies, one has to be practical!) and down to the village hall.  

All the windows and doors were closed.   They couldn't fool me though, I knew a 'party' was going on in there!  

I walked in and was hit by a wall of heat and stuffy air, almost turned tail and back into the bracing wind and finger-nipping cold outside.

The place seemed full, but this is a tiny village hall and twenty people can make it seem as though it is bursting at the seams.    Unbuttoning my coat I dug deep into my pockets, purchasing raffle tickets for this and that,  bought tombola tickets, a cake and a jar of  marmalade.     I didn't want to buy tee shirts, or ornaments, calendars  or rather dull books, so  I bought a cup of tea and a mince pie.

I had a dozen quick conversations with people I rarely see, then had a good long chat with Mrs Read who told me a few more snippets about her wedding and reception (Dovecote Dell, 1953) she also pointed out a relative newcomer to the village, to their mutual delight they had discovered that Mrs Read had taught her, many years ago.

She was sitting all alone, probably enjoying some peace and quiet, but I went and introduced myself anyway and we had a great chat and have arranged to do some dog walking together.  

Another flit around the hall, a few more pounds spent on tickets for things I hope I won't win, and then back out into the deliciously cold and invigorating air.   Bliss!

When I got home I was greeted by this lovely sight...

The best part of the day was the greeting that this boy gave me though.   Who would have thought he could still move like that?

Poppy and Miles, we'll be Skyping you later, love, Mumxxxxxxxxxxx                                              

Foraging

Yesterday evening, as I was walking Dobson, I spotted some plums

on the woodland floor.

I looked up and found half a dozen trees

laden with this glorious bounty.

I've been back today and picked a few.

Don't you just love the bloom on them?

These are destined to be made into a plum and apple crumble

one to eat now, the other for the freezer.

(the courgettes are from the vegetable garden)

I took a really long walk yesterday

heading off deep into the countryside.

The field hedgerows are filled with these beauties.

I shall return and pick some another day.

I walked through fields which I haven't visited for about four years,

not since my old dog began to find that particular walk a bit too far

for his old legs.

This time it was my old legs which protested.

I shall be sure to start doing that walk more often,

it was a really good work-out.

I couldn't resist calling in to the little churchyard

at

Dovecot Dell.

It may look a mess, but I was thrilled to see just how much hard work

has been done here.   

Someone has been working hard

to clear the brambles and masses of ivy.

It is a beautiful place with some very fancy stones for such a small churchyard.

Next time I shall take my specs so that I can read the inscriptions

and perhaps my gardening gloves to assist with the clearance.

The fancy stones are interesting, but the ones which touch me most deeply

are these tiny ones.

fliss&max

x