Moonlight in Owl Wood

I walked around Owl Wood in the company of Dobson and Miss Pinkerton

moon-shadows followed us around.

The fish pond shimmered silver 

and

 the midnight blue sky was dotted with myriad stars.

To say it was beautiful just doesn't come near.

*   *   *

This morning was cold and frosty which was no surprise

considering how clear the night sky had been.

Oh how I wish I could find the macro lens..

Miss Pinkerton followed my progress around the gardens,

wondering what I found so interesting.

Enough of playing with the camera,

it's time to walk Dobson - my darling, scaredy-boy. 

Over the last few moths I have gradually been stretching his boundaries, 

managing to persuade him just a few yards further down the lane

or to explore the boundary of an unfamiliar (to him) field

is quite a victory.

All that hard and patient work now means that our walk options have improved tremendously

even though they are nothing compared with the walks I used to take with my old dog.

Across the frosty field you can see some of the cottages down in the village.

By this time, Dobson was getting a bit anxious

but I managed to get him to walk further than before

until we reached a gateway which

overlooks this pretty garden.

It belongs to friends of ours - in the summer it is very beautiful

and makes a great venue for a summer party.

Dobson came across to peer through the wrought-iron gates

but his relief was visible

when I saw "Right, let's go home!"

Once home, I got a large pot of soup on to simmer

and finished making a couple of loaves of bread.

No prizes for guessing what we had for lunch!

x

Christmas with a Rayburn

This is one of the ways in which we prepare for Christmas...it involves a lot of hard work and many dustsheets.    Oh joy!

This is the reality of living with a solid fuel Rayburn - the flue and inner workings of the beast must be cleaned out every so often.   Not many people tell you about that.   It is a hidden horror.

I adore my Rayburn, there is nothing so comforting on a cold wintery day, just ask the cats and Dobson, they fight for the prime position near the Rayburn and ignore the log burner.   We get the whole house heated, unlimited hot hot water, and it also a cooker.

This ritual of cleaning is the downside.    The pluses far outweigh the minuses but only once the job has been done and order restored.

Once the dustsheets have gone and the surfaces have all been cleaned down, etc. it is time to play around with the Christmas decorations.

Most of them are pretty ancient and are showing their age - like my beautiful kitchen angel/cherub.   The wing has crumpled a little over the years, but I am very fond of it.   The pointsettias, greenery  and pine cones are ancient, definitely past their use by date, but they remind me of Christmases past for they used to adorn the all staircases in a previous home, when my parents lived with us.  Treasured memories.

This wooden platter is filled with very old pomanders, they are at least 15 years old, shrunken and losing a few cloves, but they still scent the air.   I must make some new ones to add to the stash.

Gradually, the room begins to look festive.   I could throw all the old stuff out - but new and fancy things wouldn't make my heart sing.

So, this is how the kitchen at Parsonage Cottage gets trimmed for Christmas.  Everything is up high, out of the way of mischievous cats, although new girl Miss Pinkerton will probably jump up at some point.    Photographs can be so useful, I can see a painting which needs to be straightened, flypapers (countryside essential) which need to be taken down,  and I spy a dog who has sneaked up onto the sofa, taking advantage of my distraction.

The tree goes down the hallway to the main bedroom.   No animals are allowed into that wing of the house - doesn't stop them trying though, especially Miss Pinkerton!   Our grandchildren are enchanted with it and race down there to check out the tree although I think their main aim is to check for presents underneath the tree.

So, a tale of Christmas Past, Christmas Present and Christmases yet to come, as I hope the grandchildren will remember the fun they have at Parsonage Cottage, but more of that another time.
xxx

A 'Bad-Guy' Animal in the Owl Wood

Poor Miss Pinkerton was simply ambling through Owl Wood when something attacked her.

She screamed like a banshee as she tried to escape.

This photograph shows Dobson just before all hell broke loose, he was standing watch over his flock of hens, but had obviously heard the beginnings of the ruckus.

Normally a cowardly-custard, brave Dobson raced to her rescue and soon Miss Pinkerton and Coco (our cats) came racing back to me, through the wood.   They looked twice their normal size, with toilet-brush tails and their fur standing on end.

Dobson was silent.   Usually a rescue event is a good excuse for a bit of a bark, tell the intruder off and get some brownie points for seeing them off.   This time he worked silently and the intruder left.

When my hero re-appeared he went straight over to Miss Pinkerton and sniffed her all over,  checking to see how she was.

Blood dripped from a puncture to her ear and some tufts of hair had come out, but she was otherwise unmarked, although still very frightened.

When the grandchildren came home from school and nursery, they wanted to know what was wrong with Miss Pinkerton's ear, so we told them.

Merry listened, then said there must have been a "bad-guy animal in the wood".   She then went on to say that she would 'get a stick and kill that bad-guy animal'.   (She is only 3 and loves all our pets.   Grandpa and I had to hide our smiles as her schoolteacher mother helped her with the 'correct' response...   I prefer the simple, honest,  emotional response from Merry.   Naughty Gran.)

Miss Pinkerton seems to be content to hang around the gardens although I'm sure that will change in a day or two and she'll resume her usual patrols.  

After School

This post is for you, as promised, Hector.

Love, Granny

xxx

Checking the tyre pressures, essential pre-drive checks.

Retirement at Parsonage Cottage is far from dull and rarely peaceful.    Two of our grandchildren live nearby and on school nights they spend a couple of hours with us - having their tea, talking about their day, followed by a little television viewing, or playing some very lively games on the Wii.    

Fine evenings will often find us outside in our little patch of woodland playing Hide and Seek - very noisy Hide and Seek as our granddaughter finds it impossible to hide without giggling loudly.    I always lose because the animals (dog, cats, hens) give me away - that and my white hair!

Tonight, however, I had to laugh because Dobson, the dog, was having a wonderful game of 'Tag' with little Miss Pinkerton, the ginger cat.    At first I was going to intervene, then I realised that she was actively encouraging him to chase her.     It is the first time I have seen them play together like that, I hope it won't be the last.

Young Hector loves those evenings when he is allowed to get his car out and drive it around the wood.  It is an old one, built by a different grandfather, for his grandson.    I found it listed on ebay several years ago and got it for a bargain price.   Grandpa Max did quite a lot of restoration work on it, fitted a battery, then insisted that Hector should learn to drive it properly and take a driving test.

He passed with flying colours and is a real star at reverse parking.

He went that way!

The evenings are getting darker so having functioning headlamps is an added attraction.    By 6pm their parents are home (thank goodness) and we are exhausted.    

"You're Fired!" and 'Digging for England'.

They were hired to keep our home free from rodents.

They have failed.

They're fired!





Between them, and the electronic rodent repeller, we haven't had a rodent in the house for years,   which is why it was so shocking that as I rummaged for some cleaning cloths, a large brown mouse jumped out of the box and ran over my hand to disappear into the dark space between the Rayburn and the saucepan cupboard.

These two snoozed on, unaware.

Their attitude seems to be that they deal with the vermin outside, anything indoors is for me.

I'll cut their rations if they don't deal with the problem soon.

Meanwhile, humane mouse traps have been set.   Mousey could find himself going on holiday.

Max, under the watchful eye of Dobson, has been digging up the old fruit garden.   Nasty, spiteful, gooseberry bushes and assorted spikey things have been dug up and rehomed.  

The area will be returned to grass and we'll be planting another apple tree, along with a plum tree.

The rhubarb will be left in situ, it thrives there, probably because of the septic tank, although we won't talk about that one!



Meanwhile, over at The Old Parsonage, the attic bedrooms have been invaded by a swarm of hornets.  Pest control have been called to deal with it and the top floor has been sealed off.     Perhaps one little mouse in the kitchen isn't so bad after all.

flissandmax
xxx

Last Night I Couldn't Sleep

..so finally, around 2am, I got out of bed and tiptoed along the corridor, trying not to stand on the squeaky floorboard or rattle the door latches.

I drew back one of the kitchen curtains and could see a sky full of stars.   Perfect!  Time to watch for the Perseid meteor shower.

Parsonage Cottage has the advantage of being out in the countryside, no near light polution, no near neighbours.    I hauled on my wellington boots, didn't want any pesky rodents nibbling my toes while I was gazing heavenwards.

Dobson didn't even lift his head, he continued to snore - definitely not much of a guard dog.  Miss Pinkerton thought about coming out with me but snuggled back down into her bed instead.  Coco was out hunting, somewhere.

It was cool but not chilly, the air was still, and the sky was filled with countless stars.   I found myself a perch and prepared to wait, trying to view as much sky as was possible.   Nothing happened skyward, although I could hear definite rustlings nearby on the ground.  Mice, hedgehogs, rats?

Several minutes passed then whizz!  The biggest, brightest shooting star, with a bright red tail.   It was thrilling.   Each year I watch the Perseid Shower, but this is the first time I have seen one as special as that meteor.

I decided that I should quit while I was ahead.   Besides, such was the brightness of the first one that I could totally see where John Wyndham probably got the idea of blindness after watching a meteor shower, in The Day of the Triffids!

Needless to say, I'll be out there again tonight.

Oh, and I slept like a log afterwards.