Much of this last week has been an uncomfortable blur, courtesy of that old familiar of autumn, the common cold. I've not had one for two or three years - perhaps one thing that Covid has done for us, is improve hygiene to the extent that we are not in contact with every germ and bug that is doing the rounds. Incessant hand washing, social distancing, and fear of the big C has kept us free from the annual round of sniffles, snuffles and squits. On the other hand, when you do come into contact with one of the little darlings, there is no residual resistance in your body and you are a veritable smorgasbord for germs, mucus, infection and all the misery that goes with it. It hasn't helped that I was in general very run down as well, but from late last Sunday night until sometime last night, I was the victim of "that nasty cold doing the rounds" and I wasn't happy. This morning was the first time I felt life might return to normal! A sleeping/roosting bantam is a good metaphor for how I felt!
Yesterday we had our own small backlash from Storm Arwen - nothing like across the UK, where wind, snow and rain have been doing their worst, but dull dark skies, an evil wind and sleet was bad enough. So it was a surprise and a good example of pathetic fallacy that when I got up feeling a bit more lively this morning, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. True there was a strong and evil wind from the North West, but so much better than we could have hoped for. And what do you do on a bright Sunday in late Autumn? Go looking for firewood.
It was a good excuse to go to the One Acre Wood, bring down a dead tree that had been worrying us, and generally look around and admire. I found a mushroom, non-edible, and one of a type that I refer to as Grey Slimy.
The One Acre Wood, like much woodland around here is chestnut coppice with oak stands, the odd pine tree, and then anything else that can set seed. There is a good reason for this - oak is a strategic crop and many woods around here were designated by Napoleon to make up for those trees felled to make warships. There is a good clay substrate round here and terracotta floor tiles are a local product of renown. To make the tiles, you need clay, chestnut for the firing and pine sap for the glaze/finish of the tile. Growing them all together near clay pits makes sense.
In among all of those sensible trees, we have chequers or common service - the berries can be used to make beer (hence so many British pubs being called The Chequers), which propagate by runners, like elm, as well as by seed. We have holly (again expand by runners). We had a couple of rowan, but both are now dead, one felled when Enedis were clearing the lines for no obvious reason other than it was in their way and they didn't care. We also had one beech tree, which met the same fate - it was in the way of the people felling trees near the line, so was felled as well even though it was 10 meters from the line and in good nick. I was gutted. Until today, when I found a 2 year old beech sapling pulling away nicely.
In amidst the awfulness of the cold, I had a birthday, but not a classic one. However I am now the proud owner of a trail camera, which has proved very good at catching short videos of feet, and cats turning round on sofas overnight. I am hoping that by next week I might have mastered the technology well enough to have a short video or photos of something more interesting. Well a girl can dream!
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