A life more ordinary

It's been a strange couple of months since I last wrote a 'proper' blog and, during that time, I seem, inadvertently, to have settled down.

At the beginning of May I was approached, out of the blue, by my estate agents who had had an enquiry about buying my cottage. It wasn't on the market at the time but the guy had obviously noticed it when it was on the market very briefly in October last year and had made a note of the agent's name. He seemed like the ideal purchaser: in rented accommodation, so no nasty chain; able to wait the two months that it would take for me to give my tenant notice and; obviously, very keen on the cottage. We negotiated and eventually agreed a price and then he had a survey done. I can't fault the thoroughness of his surveyor but it was unfortunate that he chose to say that the roof needed renewing 'sooner rather than later'. (Admittedly, my surveyor twelve years ago had mentioned that the roof could do with renewing, but I chose to ignore his advice!) We tried to renegotiate the deal with me dropping the price by a further £4,500 to £10,000 less than the original asking price but I think the guy expected me to cough up for the entire cost of a new roof and I wasn't prepared to do that. In hindsight I should probably have done the deal and got shot of what I should rename 'Millstone Cottage', but I was feeling stubborn at the time!

Looking across the main lake

Mick, of the salad leaf business across the road, has been really good about giving me gardening contacts and, through him, I landed a temporary job as the lowliest gardener of the team that works for Sir Cameron Mackintosh at his estate in south Somerset. For two weeks I spent four days a week, eight hours a day, weeding in the most beautiful gardens in an idyllic spot. (They are reputed to be the best gardens in private hands in the UK) It was tough going, physically, and by the end of the two weeks my back ached, my hands ached and I was completely shattered but the gardens were so lovely that I would gladly have gone back for more, but I was only filling in for a lady who had broken her wrist and also to get the gardens looking tip top for a series of visits from private groups to raise funds for charity. I can only hope that, if they need help in the future, they will think of me and give me a ring. The Head Gardener was a young man who won Young Horticulturist of the Year 2013 and he was so enthusiastic and ran everywhere! He kept telling me that what I was doing was 'awesome' and I kept wanting to tell him that it was just weeding and any idiot could do it, but it was nice to be appreciated! I crawled about on my hands and knees in shrubberies and threaded my way between herbaceous perennials in the Birch Walk, I hand--weeded the gravel in the Lower and Upper Cloisters and along the driveway, and then spent one afternoon helping to barrow loads of shredded bark around the main lake to renew the pathways. By the end of that exercise I was definitely feeling my age, especially as the other people involved were all probably half my age!

Before weeding....

I have also picked up two other gardening jobs via Mick, both of which appear to be ongoing – one will, eventually, be monthly and the other is fortnightly. Because the first garden had got a little out of hand I have actually been there four times in the last month and each time she pays my invoice I think 'That's two more bottles of Calor Gas!' and squirrel it away for the cold, hard days of winter!!

... after weeding

Another new venture has been baking for the Somerton Country Market. These Country Markets used to be the old WI Markets and can be found in many towns and villages the length and breadth of the country. Each market has different members, who pay the princely sum of 5p to join, and they sell all sorts of goodies. For instance, the Somerton market has a woodworker who comes every week ( and another one who does woodturning and comes once a month), a handicraft table full of knitted, sewn and crocheted items, a very comprehensive plant stall, a bake stall -both savoury and sweet, fruit and veg, fresh meat and eggs and a table with a huge variety of jam, pickles, chutneys and preserves. If I hadn't had the amazing success selling baked goodies to the boat people on the Oxford Canal, I never would have had the confidence to give it a go and, after reading the 173 page manual of all the 'do's and don'ts', I did wonder if perhaps I had been a tad over ambitious! I have now been to three markets, so it is early days, and the jury is still out as to whether I continue in the long term or not. I tend to bake on Fridays as the market is on Saturday so, if you're ever passing on a Friday you might receive gifts of misshapen cookies or fruit cake that has sunk slightly!

Thinking ahead and anticipating a requirement for an ongoing supply of eggs, I bought some young hens from the lady that I farm sit for just outside Bristol. I have two Sussex hens (one Light and one Buff) and two Marans (one Copper Blue and one Cuckoo) and, when I went back a couple of weeks ago to do an overnight farm sit I came back with two Araucanas and an Araucana cockerel. Oh, and did I mention the two-year old Speckled Sussex that I got to be company for Mary's old rescue hen? They are great fun to watch as they are allowed to free range in the afternoons and have recently discovered the muck heap where they scratch about for ages, scoffing worms. I am anticipating some very tasty eggs by the end of the summer. The Speckled Sussex (Mrs Speckles) already lays an egg nearly every day. One day I thought she was looking rather unwell as she was only walking around for a little while and then lying down and looked generally uncomfortable. I only realised what the problem was when I opened the gate back into the yard where the hen house is and she lifted up her skirts and ran straight to her laying box – she was desperate to lay an egg and had been unable to get into the house! Needless to say, if she hasn't laid before she goes off free-ranging in the afternoon, I now make sure that the gate to the chicken house is left open.

The chooks!

When I first decided to slow down the WWOOFing and rent a property back in Somerset I envisaged having a couple of weeks at 'home' and a couple of weeks WWOOFing but, because I need to earn some money, I have had to take on some jobs and clients expect you to be available on a regular basis so, going away every couple of weeks is really not an option. I don't seem to be able to hit on a happy medium and have rejoined the 'real' world with a bit of a jolt! I suppose the ideal would be to do gardening jobs all summer to get some capital behind me and then WWOOF in the winter. However, there is one small snag to this plan – very few people need WWOOFers in the winter in the UK! Aha! I hear you all cry – WWOOF abroad in the winter then, but I really don't think I have the courage to try that, so here I am, stuck in a muddle of my own making with more responsibilities than I wanted and no obvious way out.

Sadly, one of the other drawbacks to this more settled lifestyle is that I no longer feel that I have anything interesting to write about and my blogs will become fewer and further apart until they dry up completely! Sorry, everyone, I'm finding life a wee bit challenging at the moment – hopefully I will bounce back soon.