Rural Life

End of an era, in more ways than one

So last week saw me back in England for a few days - there was family stuff to do and people to see, and a final work presentation to do.

I started off heading for Saffron Walden, via Hatfield, to see family.  Visiting Hatfield was also a bit of a blast from the past, having spent years there as a student and post-grad.  The Gateway superstore with flats above had been removed and replaced with an Asda superstore with no flats above, the shopping centre was as grim as ever, and I met a rat in an underpass.  Time hasn't been kind to Hatfield, and even the airfield where de Havilland, then BAe, used to test planes has now disappeared under brick, tarmac and concrete.

On a happier note, Saffron Walden is as pretty as ever, like a TV set town in a Midsummer Murder or similarly nostalgic show, where buildings are pretty, the population handsome, traffic diverted from where you want to be, the sun shines and plants bloom.  

I also went to Harwich - somewhere I last visited when a niece got married perhaps 25 years ago?  To get to where I needed to be, I managed to avoid the town centre, which might have disappointed, and instead just followed the A120 until it fizzled out near the Lifeboat Museum.  This is a quaint corner of town, with narrow roads, pretty houses and a view onto the estuary from nearly every point.  There is a moored up Pirate Radio ship, bringing waves of nostalgia as I remembered hours listening to Caroline or Laser 252 as alternatives to Radio 1, which never seemed to have good reception.  There was also a memorial to the Kindertransports of the late 1930s.

After a couple of nights with family, I had to move on to my main purpose of the visit - Norwich and the Broads.  Thursday saw the celebration event, drawing to a close the magnificent Water, Mills and Marshes Landscape Partnership Scheme, while also alerting partners to a new, bigger, better fund from Heritage Lottery which will kick off next year.  The presentation was held at the Norwich University of the Arts Immersive Visualisation laboratory, funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council, among others.  My rather boring and untechnical presentation was done on a normal screen with rows of chairs in traditional form.

My low tech presentation was let down by the computer mouse not advancing slides, so Farrell of the Broads Authority (see last week) had to lie on the floor and manually click the keyboard to make things happen.  As the lighting was low, I couldn't see my notes so some of the detail of the slides had to be glossed over, probably a good thing for the person on the floor. 

Once the retrospective celebration was done, people could concentrate on the exciting new stuff - the new funding opportunity and the immersive screen.  At 10 metres in diameter and 4 metres tall, the screen is amazing, and when video and audio work together, almost as good as being out there yourself, but with huge potential for exploring simulated futures as well as the past.

But planning for and evaluating the new fund and working with the immersive screen is for others younger than I.  That was my last ever evaluation project, my last ever professional presentation - unless Baugé en Anjou ever discovers what I can do, I guess, but I doubt it.  Now I turn the page on an evaluation career that lasted for 30 years, and move on to a new stage in my life, and see where that takes me!

I left Norwich with some regrets - it is a lovely city, set in a beautiful area of England, but I am not sure I will be going back.  Another quick pitstop at Hatfield reminded me why we left there in 1989 without much of a backward glance, while the tarmac purgatory that is Portsmouth Harbour positively pushed me home!

So, home again, but here too there have been changes while I was away. 

Something over 15 years ago, John took in next door's rather neglected and abused cat, Nennette.  He had her sterilised (she was a good Mum, but much better off without the wherewithal  for more), brought her into the house, had her chipped and parasites removed and her vaccinations done.  We also changed her name to Nibbles - partly because Nennette was a horrid name, and partly because in those days, if you got too close, she would bite.  Actually she never really got out of the nibbling phase, but it was done more in affection than in fear in later years. 

Six years ago she had a stoke, which left her rather deaf, and with a tendency to walk in diagonals, but did not stop her climbing walls and trees.  A couple of years ago she developed hyperthyroidism, which led to her going blind about a year ago.  On Wednesday, her heart gave out, and she left us.  

For a small cat, she had a larger than life character.  Her facial expressions were amazing - often disapproving.  She brought rats back for her kittens, which our neighbour treated with a certain horror, but we pointed out he should accept as the presents she intended them to be, and that he should feed her more!  She had a five year battle with a green woodpecker that tried to visit the garden.  She liked to taunt and goad dogs.  She liked sandalwood scented soap.

What a lot to say this week!  I have brought home a trail camera, so next week there may be a wildlife photo or two - we can but hope.  Have a good week!

 

 

A trip to the old country

It was 14 months since my last visit to the UK, specifically England, and I really hadn't missed anything very much.  Not the vile state of the roads and always being on the look out for potholes, not the traffic jams, nor the non-traffic jams to the British, which were for me a nightmare as well, not the prices, nor really most of the things on the supermarket shelves.  Favourite shops had gone, cashpoint machines were hard to find, while talcum powder and Caramac were gone it seemed! 

But what I had missed, and what I was able to stock up on was time with friends.  The joy of chatting into the night with people I have known for over 30 years in some cases, was immense.  Catching up with old friends and making a few new ones is time well spent.  Even time with my accountant, who I have worked with for 20 years, was great, and nice to be greeted with a hug and a kiss too!  A highlight of my first evening, which was up in the West Midlands, was going out for an Indian meal "just round the corner" - yes, somewhere we could walk to after a civilised G&T in their garden!  I was particularly impressed by the pickle tray that arrived with the poppadoms.

The following day, there was a depressing visit to my old home town, Worcester, before an even more depressing 3 hours on the M25, but when you get to East Sussex and a view like this over green fields, it makes up for it!

The next day was London and the primary reason for my visit.  I will write in more detail about the show in my other blog, but suffice it to say that while there was no publicity beforehand, on Friday 28 June, the Tate finally launched this page about a fascinating exhibition.

From the Tate, a relatively short taxi ride took my brother and me to The George at Southwark for a restorative drink and light lunch.  I follow The Gentle Author, who writes mainly about east London, and frequently has engravings and old photos of coaching inns from the past, so walking into their courtyard was for me like walking into a piece of the Bishopsgate Institute picture library.

Once appetites had been dealt with, it was a short walk to London Bridge station for a train back to the relative civilisation of Kent.  The Shard dominates that area of London now, but the Station itself has a nice bit of modern art for those looking up rather than at their smart phones.

Tonbridge High Street is as unlovely as I remember it from my childhood, but does at least have a branch of Poundland (other similar brands are available).  They didn't have any of the final bars of Caramac available to purchase - a truly sad moment for me!  There are a couple of points of interest however - Tonbridge Castle and also The Chequers Inn with its noose where Wat Tyler's brother was hanged many years ago.  The Chequers is of course named for the tree, also known as Common Service, which has berries that can be used for brewing beer if other, more palatable, ingredients are not available.

Saturday was spent travelling, arriving home in the early hours of Sunday, I was fit for little more than hammock time during the day, before the shock, or rather shocking, results of the first round of French parliamentary elections.  The second round is this Sunday, and I fear I will need to write a blog to explain how that all pans out after that.

And no, that isn't me in the hammock being tended to by Spooky Cat.  I have a hammock chair which I find bizarrely comfortable, and was wallowing in that instead.

This blog is being written in advance, as we are being social this weekend, and I won't have time to wrestle with the internet.  By the time you read this, the UK election results will be out, and France will be voting.  Enjoy what you can!

 

St Malo and the spring tides

Ramadan started last Sunday, when the moon was dark and new.  It is the new moon that helps create the great tides, the spring tides, the ones that create a Severn Bore and the ones that make the Mont St Michel an island again.  St Malo is just round a headland from the Bay of Mont St Michel, but in that geographical zone that sees some of the biggest tides in the northern hemisphere. 

I needed to get away for a few days for a change of scene and air, so it seemed only fair to go visit St Malo, one of my favourite places, and to do so when there are some of the highest tides of the 12 year cycle - a coefficient of 116 in fact (and if anyone can explain the calculations of tide coefficients, I would be grateful).  And a very high tide is generally followed by a very low tide (to get that big tide coefficient), which meant a lot of rockpools not normally seen, would be available for inspection.

The Intramuros of St Malo is on a rocky outcrop sticking out into the estuary of the Rance, surrounded by ramparts, with the port entrance guarded by forts, including more than one with a Vaubin influence.  Here is what it looks like when the tide is about half an hour off its height and has a coefficient of 113.

The fort is on the second island out.  Between the seagull and the white pole there is a vague piece of metal - that is the rail for the high diving board on the tidal swimming pool.  What swimming pool?  This one!

The first island (the Grand Bé) is a bit of a wildlife sanctuary and also has the tomb of the French poet Chateaubriand - yes, he is also famous for the steak and has a town named for his family, as he wasn't the first of that name.  The second island is the Petit Bé and has the Vaubin fort, and during periods of normal tides is not always accessible by foot, so wasn't a brilliant posting for soldiers in the past.  But on special days, you can get right out to it with no hint of damp on your feet (the Grand Bé is accessible at most low tides).

The rocks around the back of the Grand Bé, facing the fort are covered with mussels and oysters, as they are generally not 3 meters above the sea.  On that Wednesday, the difference between high and low tide was something around 14 meters.  The view of St Malo from the islands is lovely and shows the fortifications rather well.

St Malo is a working port.  There is a fishing fleet that goes out and when I was hovering around watching them bring in the catch, it was mainly scallops.  This is tightly regulated in terms of number of days, size of shell and size of catch.  Many go straight to the restaurants in the Intramuros (I had delicious scallops on a bed of leeks, with Mediterranean vegetables one night) and along the coast, including the Thermes Marin (a thalassotherapy centre).

I didn't know it at the time, and was lucky to capture it in a photo, but there was a rather novel ship in the main port.  Not the big orange thing, but the one with the tall masts - it is the first of a new fleet of cargo ships that take high end, low weight goods across the Atlantic using only wind power.  There has been one doing the circuit St Malo, the Lesser Antilles and New York for a few years, but only taking about 40 tonnes of goods.  This new one takes nearer 150 tonnes, if I remember the TV report correctly.  It left harbour while I was there.

Leaving St Malo on Friday morning to come home, I took the route along the coast road to Cancale, stopping a couple of times, including once at the Anse de Guesclin to admire the bay and the island.  With a beautiful sunny morning, mild weather and nearly alone, it was hard to tell I was in Brittany.  I could have been anywhere, even the Caribbean! 

So now I am home, with a cold nose and good hair thanks to all the fish I ate, well buffed joints from an afternoon of thalassotherapy, and hopefully a better attitude to life in general.  But the Breton influence isn't totally over - while checking over the Garden this morning, I discovered one of my cauliflower plants had decided it was Time!  So we picked this beauty and tomorrow I'll make a cheese sauce!

Next week there will be wildlife photos and news as one of the trail cameras has come home again.  Have a good week!

 

Something of a passive week - and the earth moved

Modern cars are marvellous - when they work.  I love my Peugeot 2008, but he has an awful lot of bells and whistles, and he is very communicative.  His latest communication was that the level of additive in one of his filters was dangerously low and I needed to do something about it.  Of course, with bells and whistles, you have to take the car to a garage to make any sense of it, and I have a quote for putting said additive into the required spot, but from 10 days ago, when the car started to tell me this, the garage couldn't actually put said additive in until sometime next week.  I was sent away with my quote and dire warnings about keeping my kilometres to a minimum as a problem would be even more expensive to fix (I believe them as a replacement wing mirror (new) was 650€ - I went previously owned).  Anyway, that meant that I got to play on public transport for my trip to the big city (Angers) this week for my rendez-vous with my rheumatologist. 

It was actually quite fun and relaxing letting the bus take the strain.  At a higher level, I could see over hedges and across fields that I can't as a car passenger, and shouldn't as a car driver.  The journey took about the same time as it would if I had driven myself, although the wait at the bus stop for it to arrive added on time.  it was less stressful as it wasn't me driving and of course I didn't have to find the entrance to the car park I use that seems to move every time I visit the city.  Overall a positive experience, and as I had to wait for the return bus, I could sit in a café and enjoy a pot of tea,  watching the world go by.

The big event in our village this year will be the 148th Comice - a sort of village fete/agricultural show/fertility festival/excuse for fun and games all rolled into one.  Most years I do a blog about floats and animals and the like, if you look back through August posts.  Since November last year, I have been part of the Decorating work party.  We have brainstormed ideas, then spent happy Thursday evenings making bunting, lots of bunting, panels with music, panels with silhouettes of dancers, templates for painting silhouettes of dancers on covered straw bales, bunting (did I mention the bunting), and table decorations for the sit down meals.  On Friday there was an open meeting to engage even more volunteers - an event like this needs about 240 volunteers in the run up and over the weekend of the event, and for taking stuff down too.  That is in addition to the municipal staff who have to do the 'at height' bits, and the farmers who provide the fields, the straw bales and other more arcane services.  These two photos are unashamedly nicked from the Comice Facebook page, while you can find more on the website.

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Along with most of western France, we have been on orange alert today for storms - it's been hot, consistently hot, for about 3 weeks now.  Not the seriously awful 35 - 42ºC we were going through this time last year, but consistently 28 - 31ºC in the shade.  Last week there was a bit of rain, which drove up the humidity to seriously unpleasant levels, bringing on a heat related malaise that I never want to experience again.  This morning was a bit cooler, but this afternoon the promised storms hit.  We reckon about 12mm rain here at home (probably more at The Shack as it is a bit further north and on the track of the storms), and for a while, a more comfortable temperature, but it will take a while to cool down the inside of the house.

And then of course on Friday, there was the earthquake - no pictures of that!  But at 18:38 on Friday afternoon/evening, as I was sitting perspiring on the sofa with a cat at my side, there was a bit of noise, and the sofa seemed to wobble.  I thought that there had been a particularly overloaded tractor and trailer going past, or wondered if the structural integrity of the sofa was about to fail.  Social media soon put me right.  We are so pleased we got the chimney fixed last year, or that would have come down I think.  Anyway, no damage hereabouts, although people are blaming poor internet and dodgy electricity on it.

The trail camera has been rotated about 90º to the west, as something was setting it off in the early morning, but with the rising sun falling straight on the camera, I had no idea what it might be.  I think this is the culprit and it is not one of ours!

The stag is out and about quite a bit, always handsome to see, and doesn't he know it!!

While the boar have been busy doing what boar do, at least twice a year, and then brought the latest batch to visit.  I have got a nice little video, but with the storm bouncing around making internet connections a bit hit and miss, really couldn't be bothered to fight the fight to get it up.  Perhaps for next week.  But here is a cute, stripy person.

And of course, not just one....  Have a good week!

 

 

 

Wildlife at home and a look back at The Broads visit

The trail camera moved a while back but the grass around it got so long, we had problems with anything other than camouflage photos of what went through.  I pulled up some bits and bobs but then John strimmed through and now we can see rather better who or what is around.  Moths!  Which don't photograph well.  The deer are back but again not a good picture.  No sign of that wretched coypu again - perhaps it has wandered off?  The hare is around though, and always so beautiful to see!

Next week I will write about orchids - they are slowly coming out.  Of course I may forget...  Yesterday and today have been about getting work done to ensure food later in the summer and autumn.  I saw some small and not dead yet tomato plants in a local supermarket, so succumbed, although I know they will cause me heartache, not least if we have a moist and humid summer.  Anyway, I had the space and we have the 20 litre plastic cloches (well former heating fuel canisters), so yesterday I cleaned up the space a bit and planted the tomatoes next to the chillies and aubergines I bought at the vide grenier last week.  If they do well, there is most of a ratatouille there, I just need to set off the courgette plants.

So now for the travelogue - The Broads are very beautiful but in a rather bleak way.  But as soon as you get up on to a bit of higher land (say 40 feet above sea level), you are into standard East Anglian rolling farmland.  This on the World War II discovery circular path that goes out from Acle and I was standing by a disused and overgrown pill box.

But out in the middle of the Broads, like here down on Halvergate Marshes, you get the feel of the immensity of the sky and the landscape.  This is looking towards Mutton's Mill, but if I looked 90º to the West, there was a clump of another 3 or 4 mills.  There are spots where you can see up to 8 or 9, but some are now surrounded by trees or have fallen down.  Mutton's Mill will be having the scaffolding taken down once the driveway dries out, then the refurbished sails will be put back on and it will be magnificent.  By September all work should be completed.

Suffolk Wildlife Trust's Carlton Marshes reserve is being extended along the River Waveney, and there are accessible hides and landing stages, lots of nesting and migrating birds and some nice cattle keeping the scrub down.  The Trust has been able to rebuild the visitor facilities to create a magnificent café area, for use by visitors and by local community groups (there was a Knit and Natter group there when I visited).  The floor to ceiling window over the Marshes gives a mesmerising view.

RSPB Strumpshaw is another rather splendid reserve and well appreciated by locals and twitchers who come vast distances to see the birds there.  At one end of the Reserve there is Strumpshaw Pump House - a engine house for pumping water, so a different generation to the windmills.  It has a rather impressive chimney that is a navigation point out on the marshes.  The pump house itself has an interesting architecture and has been renovated and a bat box put on the outside although with so much natural habitat close by, it isn't that well used.  A new, wildlife bench has been installed and is wonderfully tactile.

Whitlingham Country Park and Broad is close to Norwich and the most accessible part, and will have Changing Places toilets installed by September too.  As with all the Broads, it is man-made, but more recent than the others, dating back only to the last century.  It is home however to at least 78 confirmed different species including bittern and otters.  I met Egyptian geese there - pretty, but a non-native invasive species.

Well, that's it for this week.  Next week I will be back to purely French subjects.

 

Seaside Rendez-Vous

This weekend we had our first holiday together for four years, comprising a night away at Saint-Gilles-Croix-de-Vie in the Vendée.  Once we had fed both sets of cats, and hidden food bowls around the house for the girls, we headed south west in search of pastures new, sea air, food not cooked by us and exercise.

Our first "holiday" stop was to admire the ruined castle at les Essarts, somewhat north of la Roche-sur-Yon.  it looked dramatic driving by, and has a lovely new carpark and an excellent boardwalk to the entrance, but won't be open until 7th April, so the boardwalk was as far as we got.

We then carried on to Saint Gilles itself, found a parking space near our hotel and before we checked in, went for a first exploratory wander.  The place is an amalgamation of a number of small communities along both banks of a river which takes a tortuous route to the sea.  We were on the far side, so to speak, but there was actually a further side beyond the river Vie, which we went to today.  Without a map it was horribly confusing, and as we were outside the tourist season, we had to wait until we checked into the hotel to get our hands on a town plan and make sense of it all.  Anyway, we walked out along the river towards the sea, taking a few photos on the way.

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We then checked into the hotel, let my feet recover from a lot of walking, and studied the map carefully, before changing for dinner.  We then set out inland back over the second loop of the river, and as the weather was pretty filthy, chose the first open restaurant we came to for our dinner, which was very good.  I forget how much I like Pineau de Charente as an aperitif!  We also forget how good the simple things in life are, like good bread and butter and tinned sardines (sardines are very much The Thing at Saint Gilles), which made a delicious starter.  After a very nice dinner, and once that rainstorm had blown over, we went back to the hotel, stopping only to photograph the rather dramatic church tower.

This morning was the fine weather before the storm, so we took advantage to walk up and down along the dune and Grand Plage that protect the entrance to the river Vie and the sailing and fishing ports behind.  In summer it must be vile, lined as it is with holiday apartments, candy floss shops, ice cream parlours and creperies, but firmly out of season and with a few brave cafés and restaurants open and a few mad kite surfers, it was what we needed.  The wind was blowing a gale, which made life interesting.  John had to screw his flat cap on his head to avoid it flying away more than once.  The amount of oxygen inhaled in any one breathe was intoxicating and my hair is still standing on end.

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Even though we were on holiday, we really couldn't resist this bit of interpretation about and curation of dune plants, vital for saving the Vendée coastline in all its natural splendour against the ravages of the sea.  The irony of it being next two blocks of recent and really rather ugly holiday flats seems to be totally lost on the French and local government.

The promised thunderstorm arrived a little after midday, but by that time, we were tucked up in the outer terrace (so protected from most of the elements but with a good view of them all) of a very nice restaurant having a lovely lunch and being aggressively flirted with by a waiter practicing his English before the holiday hoards descend.  We dashed to the car in a pause between rain showers, to head home to face the wrath of cats, feeling very well fed, well oxygenated and almost ready for the Spring.  Almost...

 

A spot of nostalgia and a highlight of village life returns

For various, boring, administrative reasons, I had to return to where I grew up - the Tunbridge Wells area of Kent.  I've not been there since perhaps 2006 at the most recent, so it was all a bit odd.  Somethings change enormously - the main topic of conversation on local chat sites was where the most recent potholes had appeared and how many cars had broken wheels or suspension or both as a result.  That really was rather scary!  Other things don't change or don't seem to anyway, as I found out on Wednesday.

My driver parked at the entrance to the Woods and we walked along the lane as far as an ancient oak and a kink in the road that for some reason my father always called London.  One of my bedroom windows is still the same old sash window I remember gazing out of for hours as a teenager, the porch on the cottage is still the one my Dad whittled over a couple of winters in front of the fire (I wonder if his fireplace with even more whittling is still there?), while the local post box is still the same and the amazing bronze stag door knocker on another house is as I remember, although the people who lived there are gone.  Some houses on one side of the road, the older houses, are being renovated, but on the other side of the road, up the hill from the road, the more modern houses are hidden by hedges that have grown taller and more impenetrable than I remember them.

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Another blast from the past was travelling as a foot passenger (last done in 1984 on the Harwich-Hamburg ferry), and using the Dieppe - Newhaven crossing, which I last used when I was perhaps 14.  The boat was more modern, but the crossing still lasts at least 4 hours, and as there was a gale in the Channel, it actually lasted more like 5 or 6 hours!  Travelling over to the UK, it was dark when I got on the boat so could see nothing, but coming back on a day crossing was rather splendid in the storm.  Near port, you could really see the waves crashing against the harbour walls, as well as admiring the Seven Sisters as we got further out.  Once away from the coast, the spectacle of a stormy sea was enjoyable, although 5 hours of waves can, after a while, get a bit dull!  I don't get sea sick fortunately.  Given the weather conditions, I couldn't get out on deck, so the photos are through slightly grubby windows.

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Back in France, every January, there is a ceremony in most communes of a presentation by the Mayor to wish the local population a Happy New Year, to share a review of the year that has passed and to set out the main projects and excitements for the year ahead.  In an election year, they have to be very careful what they say, and as all and any residents can attend, for the last two years there has been no event, just a video, which is not the same.  This year these ceremonies are back.  A major difference was that there was practically no kissing - normally these events are a marathon of cheek kissing and hand shaking, this year it was fist bumps, nods, smiles and acknowledgements.  Fingers crossed it wasn't a super spreader event! 

For something over an hour the high and low lights of the past year were shared, from the Mediaeval Fair to the great fire, with so many things in between, a presentation to a retiring member of the village school team, an outline of changes for 2023, including how we pay for rubbish collections, and the works being undertaken to restore some community woodland.  There was also a presentation on, and exhortation to get involved in, the Comice 2023, which will be in Vieil Baugé.  After, there was an opportunity to nobble a member of the council about undeclared building work going on, as well as to drink a glass of fizz, greet a number of friends and each cheese puffs.  It was great to be back to something like normal.

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So 2023 is now fully launched and things are back to near normal.  Have a good week!

 

Traveller's tales and wildlife videos

Apologies for not posting last weekend, but I was away in the Broads, visiting the Broads Life Festival at Beccles Quay.  When I would normally write this blog, I was actually attending the final performance of the commissioned piece, Booming Voices, by Eastern Angles theatre company in a large marquee by the quayside.  What an excellent and friendly festival it was.  There was enough to do and to look at to keep me occupied on the Saturday and the weather was magnificent.  The Wherry Maud and her pop-up museum were there too - a lovely day.

The photos below are: the results of a dyke dipping day, nicely displayed in a three layered viewing tank and with lots of lovely water thingies; the Chet Boat - a reconstruction of a mediaeval boat discovered on the River Chet, and the original (now in York) dates from about 1350 or so, the reconstruction made by the International Boatbuilding Training College at Lowestoft; and a general view of the Festival site.

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Well that all went nicely wrong and it is too hot and sticky to fix it - so the Chet Boat photo is a totally different size, but is not that much more important than the other two!

From the Broads I went over to another favourite place - Shropshire, and more specifically the Marches Mosses.  There is a new bird hide at Sinkers Fields near Morris Bridge on the Llangollen canal - I'd been prepared for it to be well appointed, but hadn't expected it to be so beautiful.  The Mammoth Tower also has its tusks attached now, which it didn't have when I last visited in November 21.

Both structures are paid for by National Lottery Heritage Fund and LIFE.

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All that travelling meant that today was my first chance to see what had been going on by the trail camera - I will ,move it again soon, but it is doing jolly well where it is.  The 7 videos that I link to are just a flavour of the activity that has been going on.  The badgers seem to have drifted off at the moment, but the hare and/or rabbit is a new and regular visitor, while the piglets are just so darn cute!  There is water nearby which may be why there is so much activity at this point.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The parent boar really are rather scary and there are a couple of photos that are the stuff of nightmares!

This could be a hare or a rabbit - difficult to say without a good look at its tail and anything around to get a feel for its size.

These could be pheasant or partridge young - normally I would say pheasants on the basis we hear a lot of them around, but John and a cat put up a flock of a dozen or so partridge during the week, so I'm hedging my bets.

 

That's it until next week!

 

November and it's dull, dull, so very dull

It's been a bit of a trial finding things to talk about this week and also to find any nice photos to share to illustrate that with.  The dullness is more as it is same old, same old, as actually the weather has been fairly kind, so I have done a couple of walks (brown leaves, brown fields, brown woods) and seen a couple of fungi that were faintly photogenic, but otherwise of little interest to me.  No cèpes at all this year, so I have to keep going with my stash of dried from last year.

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There was an amusing moment during the week when I was wandering around the Orchard, and Donald decided he didn't want to walk so spent his time circling my head by standing on my shoulders (I really am stretching the point here).  The shadow we made on the ground was amusing - I'm either wearing a Davey Crocket hat or a saucepan!

Other things are preparing/being prepared for winter.  After the first significant frost of the year, I thought it was time to bring the avocado tree into shelter - they aren't known for being frost hardy!!  This is its third year, and it was grown from an avocado stone we brought back from Guadeloupe - the fruit was huge (family sized really), as was the pit, so we thought it was worth a try.  The tree actually has branches, and has done better than any other avocado stone I've grown, so I want to keep it going, but it will have to stay small enough to bring indoors each winter!

Following on from last week's pride in a first new flower on the little orchid, I can now present flower number 2, and looking closely at the buds, next week there might even be a third flower.  This small and frankly rather abused orchid has been with us now for three years and I am amazed by it.  I would like it to be an example to the bigger orchids that have since seduced me, but I don't know that they talk that much!

One thing that has made the week dull from a blogging perspective is the fact that I am preparing for a voyage to Plague Island next week.  I have had to get to grips with expensive lateral flow tests, passenger locator forms and Engagement sur l'Honneur form letters, do laundry so I have enough clean underwear, find the small rucksack for carrying my camera around, charge up the battery for the big camera, and look into the exotic subject of public transport into and around Birmingham.  All this should mean that I have lots of exciting photos for next week's blog, but make today's effort a major snooze fest.  

As even the cat is a critic, I'll leave it at that for now!

 

Day 10 of 30 Days Wild - but very tame in fact

Work can be regarded as a necessary evil, although actually, when I have a project running, I really enjoy it.  The one I am currently working on has a very tight timeframe with a lot to squeeze into June, so there are days like today, when once I am home from the market, all I do is sit in front of the computer.  There are also other distractions going on which can affect concentration.  For once that isn't cats on the desk, but that is a first.

I did attend a webinar at lunchtime on how to maintain confidence in work and data when remote working - there was little new in it, but it did help me to realise that actually I do these things quite well and shouldn't beat myself up.  In the new normal, the world could be at my feet!

I have managed to take a short walk around the garden, on the way too and from removing a broody chicken from the coop so I could rescue the eggs before she does something silly (it is the Big White Chicken that is brooding but I sometimes think it is an excuse when she can't be bothered to get up and go out and about).  My first freesia flowers are about to come out.  I nibbled a raspberry or two.  I scowled at the clouds, bringing more rain, but that was about it.

For those that made it this far, I'd better include a nice photo or two of something - what have I got in my stash?  In March 2019 we went to Guadeloupe and did a walk through the rainforest, where we saw this.