SNOW AND COLD AND WAITING

Last weekend I watched the program by Anthony Gormley on art. He visited caves in France which reminded me of visiting the Lascaux caves as a boy, reminded me of the wonderful story of Altamira, the archaeologist and his small daughter Maria saying, "Look up."

But we do not have cave in our garden, just a couple of sheds, though I have walled the wood store with a few failed paintings.

I have cut back the buddleia between the roses and the septic tank. I know it is a bit early but on a fine cold sunny day I had to do something in the garden. The rhubarb is just showing itself through the compost. And the build goes on, chaos to the left of me, chaos to the right of me etc. etc.

The moorhens are, I think, a moorhen and a moorcock - two on the pond.

And so many snowdrops so here is yet another photograph.

On one morning the snowdrops were frozen, encased in ice.

And to end let me get rid of all those snowy photos clogging up the Nook Images file.

Glad I am not a sheep.

What's that you said?

POTLESS AND PERISHED

On Sunday we went to Potato Day at Greenodd Village Hall, just around wthe corner from where I was born. Tables laden with seed potatoes, fruit bushes and trees, seeds and bulbs for sale and a lunch of soup and a cake, Entry the devastating sum of £1. It was packed. There are going to be a lot of potatoes grown around here next year. R bought some bulbs and perpetual spinach seeds. And there was good company.

It is Tuesday and I am zonked - the smoke alarm began to go off in the middle of the night. It now has a new battery and is schtum.
We went to Inglefield Plants at Staveley in search of a big pot for the monstrous clivia. It was open on the internet but shut in reality so we regrouped and had lunch out beside a roaring fire at the Strickland Arms.
It is intermittently sleeting.
Yesterday I dragged the last of the branches I had cut at the back, two big elders, to the bonfire and made a feeble attempt at lighting it - but it was too damp and needed a bucketful of fuel on it, which I did not have.
The windowsills and lintels on the house are not made anymore so we cannot get a match. Just another irritation.
It is very cold and damp. I have a big mug of tea and am going to have a nap.

 The building goes on, and on, and on, and . . . 

The garden is so tidy (Mmm!) 

One day?

Still the ever expanding sea of snowdrops is cheery, I think.

And then it went cold and we had some snow, just a little. It made the track icy and I am glad I am not a builder in the cold. In the garden there were tracks - rabbit and moorhen, and moles still active. And then I came out one lunchtime and the builders were messing about with metal detectors. So, says I, some years ago I lost my gold signet ring, either down by the pond or up at the far end in the compost heap by the wall. The first day they looked by the pond and only found nails, part of an old scythe and a manhole cover. BUT on the second day, by the wall they found my gold ring and it is now on my finger again. It was given to me by my uncle and godfather John Hay when I was 21.

The skeins of geese were flying over again this morning - just wonderful.

This is the view east from the field behind the house past the replica of the Eddystone Lighthouse above the town, a memorial to Sir John Barrow.

TOO MUCH WATER, LOTS OF JAM

 And I do not mean rain (as a gale outside blows eastwards and drops spatter the window). I have made the annual batch of Marmalade (recipe in previous year's blogs) but it took forever as I added far too much water and I had to boil it off. 
It is finally done - in two batches.

And I have just checked and it has set fine, not too thick, just right. Tastes okay too.

In between showers I have begun to assassinate the shrubbery at the back of the house. It should have been done two years ago and the branches are a bit big but we are going to have a huge bonfire when it is all done - flowering currant, privet, elder, wild berberis and ash.

We have loads of broccoli but after the caterpillar dare I eat it? There is some in the kitchen submerged in salty water to try and drive out any creepies.

The garden is a carpet of snowdrops and R's yearly job of dividing and replanting is working - a delight. The hellebore by the shed is in flower.

The small shed is leaking all over my son's stored boxes. The felt on the roof is shot at. Time to inspect - and sort out the contents. Anyway we need the rails for our clothes when we move out of our dressing room for the builders and they are in there. I have put a big plastic sheet over it and weighed it down with bricks and logs.

 The building goes on and we have roof to the left of the house where the new stuff (most of it) will be. 
Then we can get our privacy back, though, I have to say, the builders have been fine.


The vegetation in the pond, as you can see, has sunk into the depths shallows and we have a good reflection. The grass is a bit shaggy but it is midwinter.

One thing with the building was access and so they laid a line of sheets of wood around the path below the house - this we have now got back, a bit battered and, in some places, the grass has gone - but it will recover (I hope).

So now for a cold spell and these daffs in bud will go into suspended development. 

But before that there is the broccoli with roasted chicken for dinner . . . I shall be inspecting every floret intensely before swallowing (let alone biting) it. The last thing I want is to find half a creature on my plate.

Got the bug, now made plum jam - 4lb plums, 4lb sugar, 3/4 pint water etc etc. (4lb approx = to 2 Kg.)(3/4 pint approx = to 1/3 litre.)
Using old frozen Victoria plums, let them thaw then the stones come out easily but nick the fruit with a knife. If you squeeze them they pop and spray you with plum juice. Less than the faff of removing them from the cooking jam. (Rather like the word faff.)

BROCCOLI BONUS

Sometimes gardens provide more than one expects. It is Monday and I have been down the garden to check on the chard and the ground cress. The purple sprouting broccoli is ready to be picked. It will be excellent with our fish tonight. Come evening the broccoli is steamed and I sit down to enjoy our crop. 
However there is a little extra protein on my plate - a small well cooked caterpillar! Ah! The joy of home produce.

Early next morning, just after dawn, there is one small shaft of sunlight over Morecambe twenty miles away across the bay. Hundreds of geese are flying south west in huge wedges, filling the air with their exotic calls. Moorhen scuttle from the pond. I top up the bird feeders. The scent from the sarcococcus by the back door is heady in the still air and more open snowdrops cluster in the wood.

Then I check the BBC weather forecast and the radar map - no rain till 8pm tonight, we try to dismantle the wreath from by the door and in the end bung it in the bin, I go out and fuel up the sit-on mower, back it out of the shed and hitch up the trailer ready to cart well rotted horse manure down the garden from the heap outside the cattle grid, get out the fork, put on my gloves and - it is raining, soft soaking mizzle. Time for another morning coffee.

Midweek and it is frosty and sunny. Reduced height of 1/3 of beech hedge to 4 feet - it was getting too tall to trim easily. Manure onto roses and 6" compost on one of main veg beds. Had to come in as bread proving on the Aga.

The new extension is nearly ready for a slate roof and the slates are stacked at the back of the house arranged by size, waiting for holes.


We still have ground cress - I sowed it early in the year but because of the heat and drought they did not germinate till august by which time I had put sweet peas in the same place. The latter may not have flowered but the cress has come and is thriving (though not very  peppery to taste).

There are flowers here and there - the first of 2019 - quince, marigold, 
and roses, even a small yellow "senecio" bloom. (Brachyglottis is too much of a mouthful)

The clematis armandii on the shed is in bud. It flowers early but this is a bit too early.

There is still tidying to do - more hedge cutting, bringing the shrubs (almost trees) at the back of the house down to a reasonable size - privet and flowering currant. The buddleia will need to be cut down in the next eight weeks and I must mulch the agapanthus - well, more than I have done so far.

Had tidied up the catmint and I have done the same to the cutting bed plus borrowing compost onto the blackcurrants and raspberries. I pruned the gooseberries (they have one more year to not get stricken by sawfly and mildew) and the yellow climbing rose on the other side of the fence.

It is Saturday, raining, spelt bread baked and preparing the oranges for the marmalade. 
Perhaps next week we will go and see Stan and Ollie at the Roxy.

GOING GREY?

It is the grey grizzled days of winter 2019, we had a hard frost, the air is still as we linger under a high pressure and my feet are cold despite two pairs of Bamboo socks. 
Having said that it is cold and dry - I have just mowed, yes mowed, some of the lawns to tidy them up as the grass has not yet stopped growing. However down by the hedge the lawn is a quag and needs some serious draining.

In the garden the grey plants become important to give some light to the flowerbeds.

A Euphorbia

Lavender

The pittosporum above a hebe and next to rosemary.

Even the smaller plants like this Snow in Summer on the right give variety to a dark corner and the skimmia, left, is just longing to burst into flower.

The sarcococcus by the back door is in flower and yet it is also bearing its shiny black berries from last year.

Daffodils are through under the magnolia and we definitely have our first snowdrops.

The maple is in full red twig colour and the bay in buds - though this is getting too big and will need a stiff prune - more cuttings - they root easily if just shoved in reasonable soil and left.

 We even have the odd wallflower out and the small shrub on the left was bought by R for almost nowt as a four inch high rooted cutting.

Apart from all that we have the dried heads of the hydrangea in vases in the house and I must cut some of the reedmace by the pond before it goes over - it is already starting to look tatty.

And there you have it, onward into the last year of the two thousand and teens. I shall now go and sit by the log burner and read about the Wars of the Roses. Nowadays prominent people (like football managers) (no names) get sacked, then they would have been hung, drawn, quartered, decapitated - just for starters!

Will Brexit happen?
Will Nellie the E survive the next year as President.
Will we ever get our upsizing finished?
Will I finally give in to a new right knee?

And my New Year's Resolution - to diet and lose weight, get more exercise, leap out of bed in the morning (R goes Ha!), drink decaf, less alcohol and generally be a lot more miserable - if that is possible.