Early Spring Blog

 

Snowdrops in Whittington Churchyard

Well, so much for hoping for more Spring-like weather! Yesterday there was snow and the country descended into its usual turmoil of cancelled buses and trains and closed schools. I don’t really know what’s changed but, when I was at school, I don’t remember them ever closing except, perhaps, in the harsh winter of 1963. All I can remember about that was trying to push Dad’s car up our precipitously steep driveway so that he could go to work! At Junior school the break-time milk would be frozen almost solid and quite often had the foil tops pecked open by bluetits, and at Senior school we had open corridors around two quadrangles which sometimes had mini snow drifts that we had to scuff through to get to class where we would stand, shivering, outside the classrooms until the bell rang allowing us to enter the comparative warmth.

Luckily, we had no snow whilst I was still in Cheltenham, although there were several days of heavy frost and raw winds, which prevented us from going outside much. Consequently, I got quite a lot of knitting done and read several books.

Colourful knitted socks

A toddler's jacket

 However, following on from my 'accidental' long walk, and on a bright but chilly day, I decided to set forth on another ramble. I had no clear idea where I was headed but thought I might go to the other side of the village where we’d lived when I was growing up and out towards the small hamlet, called Ham, where I used to go quite often as a child. Having got there and still feeling quite fresh, I decided to replicate, at least in part, a walk that I had last done about 55 years ago with my sister and some friends, up Ham Hill towards the village of Whittington. I thought I’d cut that walk short and come down by the side of the old reservoir, out onto the main A40 and back into the village that way, but I hadn’t taken a map with me (I know, I could have an app on my phone, but I haven’t!) and couldn’t decide which of the footpaths was the correct one, so I carried on walking. Ham Hill seemed a lot steeper than I remembered and Whittington seemed to have moved a few more miles away, but I finally got there and had a brief rest on a bench on the village green, where I phoned Mum and told her I might be a bit late for lunch!

Whittington Old Schoolhouse

The reason that we had gone to Whittington all those years ago was to do a brass rubbing in the church. Neither my sister nor I can now remember why we were doing brass rubbings, but it was quite a ‘thing’ back then, so much so that most churches have since covered their brasses (which are usually set in the floor of the nave or chancel) with carpeting to protect them from over-vigorous rubbing! I decided to see if ‘our’ brass was still uncovered and was delighted that the church was unlocked. It’s a tiny church nestled under the protection of the large manor house and almost up against its walls, but inside was a mini treasure trove of historical church artefacts: by the entrance was a 12th century font, the 16th century brass was still uncovered on the floor of the chancel and there was not one, but three, stone effigies. Two were of a father and son who were both crusaders in the 13^th and 14^th centuries and the third was of an unknown, unnamed female relative (typical!). 

16th Century brass plaque

13th Century crusader

14th Century crusader

The unknown female relative!

They were all in surprisingly good condition for their age and beautifully carved. At the back of the church, on two pillars facing each other, were the carved heads of a man and a woman dating from the 15^th century. I know I’ve said this before, but I am always awestruck by the care and skill that has gone into the building of even the most humble church, but mainly by the intricacies of the stonemason’s carvings.

15th Century female figure

15th Century male figure

 Outside, amongst the ancient chest tombs, was a profusion of snowdrops in full bloom, and a couple of ancient yew trees. Apparently, in the field opposite was the site of the medieval village and also, a Roman villa, so this is a very ancient settlement. A couple of days later I took Mum for a drive to see the snowdrops and revisit an area that she hadn't been to for some years.

one of the ancient yew trees

The walk home was not quite so pleasant as I had to walk along the side of the busy A40 for quite some distance. As I descended the long sweeping curve of road I tried to see any signs of the old Dowdeswell Viaduct that used to span the valley to my left, but nothing seemed to be remain of this once majestic sight that used to be a childhood marker of 'almost home'. At last I managed to divert onto a footpath around the reservoir, which is now a nature reserve, emerging onto the main road further down where there was a proper metalled footpath, back into the village. This time I had managed to walk 8.5 miles without any major physical issues, which was wonderful.

The viaduct in its heyday

Later in February I returned home for a weekend to check on my little house and also to help with tree/hedge planting on the new length of cycle path that a team of volunteers have been clearing. Jeni and I were handed a bunch of dogwood ‘whips’ and shown where and how they should be planted. We’d gone armed with spades and a mattock but hadn’t reckoned on how stony the bit of ground was that we had been assigned. Both of us took turns to swing the mattock, but it was hot, wrist- and arm-jarring work and we were soon quite tired. I think we must have been trying to plant into the base of an old wall as there were so many stones, wherever we dug, but we managed to plant about 24 whips in two different locations before we decided we’d had enough and sloped off to reward ourselves with a rather nice lunch at a café in Shepton Mallet. More planting has since been done – we got guelder rose and hazel to plant the next time – and this bit of cycle path is due to be officially opened tomorrow. It was great to see how many people are already using it to walk dogs, ride bikes (and horses) and we even saw an elderly man on his mobility scooter who was thrilled to be able to get out into an area of countryside more easily. It is going to be amazing, once it links up with bits further along the old Strawberry Line.

Hedge planting on the new cycle path

On my way back to Cheltenham once again, I came cross-country from Tetbury on one of my favourite bits of road - you never quite know what you are going to see along this stretch. I have seen hares, buzzards, a fox, red kites as well as lots of wild flowers, in their season, and this time I was not disappointed. Just past a particular farm I noticed a white van pulled over on the verge and the driver was standing on the top step with his phone camera out, so I pulled up a bit further along and had a look to see what he was photographing. Imagine my delight when I saw a small herd of deer! I waited until he drove off and then reversed back to his vantage point, so that I could get a better shot. It appeared to be a small herd of male fallow deer, just grazing, quite unconcernedly, in the field at the side of the road. Wonderful!

Male fallow deer

Further along the same road I came across two chaps rebuilding an old dry stone wall and stopped to admire their handiwork. They were really pleased that I’d stopped for a chat and were quite happy for me to take some photos and I was really pleased to see young people doing such an age-old job. Once finished, their wall should last for a hundred years or so – what a legacy!

The drystone wallers

The beautiful wall in progress

I also managed to get to see two old friends whilst I was still at Mum’s – my school friend, Mads, who lives in Royal Wootton Bassett and Carol, a childhood friend, who lives near Stroud. Both days were spent chatting and reminiscing and were very good for the soul, although I seemed to be very hoarse on the day after! Carol took me for a walk in the woods with her two dogs; one is a cross between a Labrador and a Bernese Mountain Dog, and the other is a Golden Doodle, which is, apparently, a cross between a Labradoodle (Labrador x Standard Poodle) and a Golden Retriever! It was a very energetic walk, up a very steep hill, and I was soon panting and gasping and exhorting her to go on and leave me behind! She’s only a year younger than me but made me feel ancient as she strode away with hardly a change in her breathing. At that point I decided that I must do something about my aerobic fitness, even if it means taking such a drastic step as getting another dog! (Cue both my children sending me links to dog rescue sites and cute pictures of unwanted pooches!)

I have now returned to Somerset so that I can start the new gardening year with my clients. I did manage one day this week and was quite glad that rain and snow stopped any more, as I was quite tired after three hours. Not to worry, I’m sure I’ll soon be back to a good level of fitness, once the better weather comes.

As always, take care everyone, keep warm and snug and look out for the emerging signs of Spring. x

Hibernating!

Old Man's Beard

 Happy New Year to all my loyal readers!

Although it has only been a month, Christmas seems to have happened ages ago! Jeni and I had a long, but uneventful journey from Somerset to Sheffield arriving in time for lunch on Christmas Eve. This year the whole family was together and we had the addition of my brother’s partner’s mother on Christmas Day, so we were quite a gathering. Much eating and drinking took place over the three days that we were there and we all returned home with a share of the leftovers! In fact, we were having such a good time that I don’t think anyone remembered to take any photos!

I was only back at home for a few days before I repacked the car and headed back to Cheltenham to spend New Year and most of January with my Mum. This arrangement seems to work well for both of us, providing company at an otherwise quiet time of the year: I don’t start gardening again until the beginning of March and, sometimes, bad weather curtails Mum’s social life (which is much better than mine!), plus it means that I can be on hand to take Mum to any appointments that she may have without her having to rely on public transport or taxis.

On days when the weather is bright, we can often be found trundling slowly around the neighbourhood for an ‘airing’ but with the very cold, icy conditions that we’ve had recently, we are more likely to be doing crosswords or reading and, in my case, knitting! I have knitted a few pairs of socks to replenish my depleted stocks and am now knitting a child’s jacket, as I sold a couple of those before Christmas, as well.

I always chide myself for being ‘lazy’ at this time of the year but, as a friend pointed out, it is how Nature’s cycle works – plants and animals slow down, sleep a lot and wait for the warmer Spring weather, so I am only getting closer to my ‘natural’ self! I rather like that idea, although my body does seem to stiffen up more alarmingly with each passing season of inactivity. This year, to try and combat my body seizing up entirely, I have brought my yoga mat with me and am trying to do a short Pilates work out at least every other day, plus working on my balance, too. My Pilates teacher would be very pleased with me and, hopefully, when I go back to classes in March I won’t feel as if I’ve never done it before!

Green Woodpecker

Ant Hunting!

One of the things that Mum and I enjoy doing is watching the birds on the feeders. I bought some sunflower hearts and a suet block to add to the existing fat balls and bird seed and we have been rewarded by visiting flocks of goldfinch and long-tailed tits. On one day we also had a visit from the jay and a green woodpecker who spent ages on the lawn probing for ants. I wondered what else they ate as I would have thought that ants were a bit scarce at this time of the year, but the RSPB website just says ‘ants, ants and more ants’, so I guess that’s all they eat. There is a very quick young black and white cat that visits the garden and hides in the shrubs before dashing out to chase the birds and I have found evidence of two ‘kills’ on the lawn, so I take great pleasure in leaping from my seat, flinging open the patio door and yelling ‘Clear off, you b****r!’ at it. It has now learned to check the patio door for movement before crossing the grass and disappearing, at speed, through a hole in the fence! Note to all the cat-lovers: I quite like cats, really, but I hate them catching birds.

The ford at Spring Bottom

The Pooh-stick bridge at Spring Bottom

Some days I have been out for longer walks, without Mum, and have pounded the lanes around the area. When I was growing up here the area could still be classed as a village, with its own Urban District Council and a degree of autonomy, but it is now very much a suburb of Cheltenham. It is actually a lot more well-to-do as than it used to be as the local school is high up in the league tables and the house prices have risen exponentially. Charlton Kings had very humble beginnings as it was mainly an agricultural settlement, but when Cheltenham started to take off as a fashionable Spa town it became the centre of the laundry industry for all of the big houses and hotels that sprang up. This industry is reflected in a couple of old street names: Lyefield Road and Sappercombe Lane and there is an area of open land that is still known as the Laundry Field. The whole area is criss-crossed with small lanes and footpaths that probably provided access for the washerwomen to the drying fields, and these still run behind the houses on the new estates which means that I can go for quite a distance without having to walk along roads. They can feel quite mysterious being only a few feet wide and usually enclosed between high fences, walls and hedges and are obviously used as pathways by the local foxes as I can often detect their scent hanging in the still air. I was interested to know what these types of pathways were called in other areas of the country as, in Somerset, they are often known as ‘drangs’ and, as children in Charlton Kings, we referred to them as ‘avers’. It turns out that there are quite a few regional variations from ‘ginnels’, ‘snickets’ and ‘entries’ in the North to ‘jittys’ and ‘jennels’ in Nottingham, and ‘twittens’ in Kent. However, they don’t seem to have stayed completely regional as we had a Twitchens Lane in the Somerset village that I used to live in, and my ex (Somerset born and bred) used to say of someone with bandy legs ‘he couldn’t stop a pig in an entry’. I would be interested to know if any of you call them something different again.

Drang, twitten or aver?

Old path with original metal railings

A couple of days ago I ended up walking much further than I’d anticipated. I had no clear idea of where I was heading but ended up walking up an old sunken trackway onto the hill above the village. Initially I thought I would walk down the other side and come out near my old childhood home, but I missed the footpath and ended up climbing another hill and coming out on the Gloucester to Andoversford road that runs along the edge of the Cotswold escarpment. From there I walked back to the junction with the Cheltenham to Cirencester road that crosses it at right angles and then back along a further footpath before dropping back down the hill and coming out on the main road a mile or so from Mum’s. The sun was going down, the temperature was plummeting and I was footsore and weary by the time I got back! The next day, with the aid of an Ordnance Survey map and a piece of thread (a method I was taught in Physical Geography at school -thank you Miss Edwards!) I worked out how far I’d actually walked and was disappointed to discover that it was only five miles, but it was all up and down hill, so was probably further really! It was worth the climb, though, as the view over Cheltenham was spectacular but a bit hazy towards the Malvern Hills.

Cheltenham from Wistley Hill

I am going home every couple of weeks to check on my little house and also attend appointments and catch up with Jeni, and when I went back last time it was after we'd had days of torrential rain. I was glad I went home in daylight as the amount of surface water was horrendous and at several points the water was pouring off the fields onto the roads and we were all having to be very courteous and allow people to negotiate the flood waters one car at a time, keeping to the crown of the road to prevent  being inundated. When I looked out of my dining room window I was surprised by how flooded the moors were - it was very easy to visualise Glastonbury as being the island it once was. I guess if sea levels rise as predicted, it may well be an island again!

Flooded moors!

I hope you are all managing to stay warm and cosy and, by the next time I write, perhaps the weather will be warmer and there will be some more Spring flowers out.

Early snowdrops in Mum's rockery

Seasonal markets and other entertainments!

What are you doing with your phone?

Oh, I see - you're taking my photograph!

I was going to title this blog ‘Hurtling towards the Festive Season!’ but, as we are now a mere two days away from The Day, it seems a little late as we have now ‘Hurtled!’.

I know I keep saying it, but I really don’t know where the time goes, and I don’t think it’s just an age thing as many of the younger generation have also been heard to bemoan that fact. I can’t believe that it was the very beginning of November when I last published a blog. The intention has been there to write a new one for a few weeks but I just don’t seem to have been in the right frame of mind to get started – a bit like my larger idea of writing a book about my WWOOFing experiences based on these blogs and the journals that I kept at the time.

After my second visit, to my miracle-working osteopath, the Covid headache disappeared and I suddenly felt a lot more positive and energetic. However, I decided to be cautious and continued to limit my gardening jobs to a maximum of three hours at a time. My three remaining clients were all fine with this as I was mainly cutting back roses and herbaceous plants that were past their best and generally putting things to bed for the winter.

Having enjoyed the Fairport Convention concert in Wells Cathedral last year (despite a very large pillar completely obscuring my view) I decided to go to another one. This was a group of 4 fiddle players from various areas of Scotland with a guitarist and keyboard accompaniment called Blazin’ Fiddles. I paid more for my ticket this time so was seated in the main body of the nave, and could see most of what was going on despite there being taller people seated in front of me. The band played a lively selection of jigs, reels and airs from all over Scotland, some from Canada and a few from Ireland which kept the audience foot-tapping and hand-clapping for much of the evening. I couldn’t resist taking a photo of the scissor arches which support the main cathedral tower as they are so exceptionally beautiful and fill me with awe at the skill of the medieval craftsmen who fashioned them. In the New Year I am thinking of becoming a volunteer steward at the Cathedral, not because I am at all religious, but because I love the skill and workmanship that has been put into the fabric of the building.

The amazing Scissor Arch in Wells Cathedral

In the middle of November I booked a last minute Christmas Fair at an indoor venue in Pilton. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of sales as it was a village event and there were several other stalls with knitted and crocheted work. However, it turned out to be very successful and was worth the effort. Later in the evening Jeni and I went to Glastonbury Carnival, the last one in the so-called Guy Fawkes Carnivals that take place across Somerset during November. It was the first time that we’d been to the Glastonbury one, although we have attended most of the Wells ones since Jeni was in a pushchair! The carts (we don’t call them ‘floats’) were hugely impressive although I failed to take any photos! To be honest there are so many light bulbs on each cart that, when I’ve tried to capture them in previous years, my camera has just produced a blurry mass that could be anything! It was the first time the carnivals had taken place since the pandemic and I think everyone was really enthusiastic that they had returned with such style!

My stall at Pilton Christmas Fair

The following Saturday was the Glastonbury Frost Fayre, another annual event that makes the High Street one large street market and entertainment venue. I decided to walk down, even though it was quite drizzly, and immerse myself in the Glastonbury vibe. This meant buying mulled cider at the top of the High Street and then ambling down looking at all the stalls of wondrous stuff that was available. I bought a pretty pair of butterfly earrings for Jeni’s birthday and also had some sparkles tied into my hair. I’ve had these done before and they seem to stay in quite well in my hair – one lasted for more than a year!

I had two further markets at which I had a stall, both outdoor venues, and Jeni came along to keep me company. The first was the last Shepton Sunday Market of the year, where I sold socks and fingerless gloves and a couple of needle-felted sculptures and the second was at the Farm Shop just outside Shepton Mallet that stocks a few of my jams and marmalades. I really wasn’t expecting a lot from this market as the temperatures were well below freezing, and it is a little bit off the beaten track. How wrong was I! It turned out to be my best trading day ever (I’m still not going to make my fortune at this, though!) and the atmosphere was brilliant. It was a long day from set-up at 9.30 to break down at 4pm, and I don’t think the temperature went above freezing for more than half-an-hour in the middle of the day – it was perishing! Luckily my lodgers, who used to sell organic vegetables at local markets, reminded me of the trick of standing on cardboard to insulate your feet, and this helped enormously, but we were really glad to pack up and go home at the end of the day. Not surprisingly, socks and fingerless gloves were the most popular items, but I was surprised that I sold so few hats. I also sold some more needle-felted sculptures, so stocks are a little depleted now. It's just as well that my next market is not until March 2023, so I have ample time to knit more gloves and socks.

Needle-felted snowmen, elves and Father Christmas

Needle-felted woodland creatures

My lovely lodgers have finally managed to emigrate to Greece! It has taken them months to wade through all the bureaucratic red tape that is now involved in moving to an EU country. Before Brexit they would have just gone and been able to work and apply for residency from there. Now, they have to have visas, proof of funds, health checks, a visa interview and two different types of health insurance before they can even set foot in the country! They remained remarkably cheerful for the five months that they were with me, but stress-related health issues began to creep in in the last few weeks, so it was a huge relief for them to finally go. Initially, I had volunteered to drive them to Bristol Airport but as the date drew nearer and the temperatures plummeted I chickened out of a potentially icy, foggy drive in the wee small hours and asked them to book a taxi. I believe the temperature in Greece, near Kalamata, was about 20C so a huge difference with our minus 5-6 degrees! I have an open invitation to visit them so perhaps I’ll manage it sometime in 2023, who knows?

At the beginning of this week I did a three-day farm sit for the alpacas, to enable Chris, Sarah and little Penny to have a bit of a Christmas break. Luckily (?) the weather had changed from freezing cold to mild and wet, so I duly packed wet-weather gear and a complete change of clothing – you never know when you’re going to fall flat in the mud or just get soaked to the skin! I got there at 8.30am and Sarah and I did the morning let out and feeding routine.

All of the poultry are in ‘flockdown’ due to the highly contagious avian flu that is about at the moment, so the hens have to remain in their covered pens, the ducks have a permanent pen with a netting roof and the geese have a movable pen as they are grazers and need fresh grass available to them. The goose pen covered quite a large area and was formed of security fencing panels, cable-tied together and covered over with a huge net supported in the middle by two long poles in garden umbrella stands. Not long after the family departed, I went out to put fresh water in for the geese only to find that, due to the gusty wind and heavy rain, one side of the pen had completely collapsed, snapping all of the cable ties and folding one of the panels in half! For a few moments I stood there in complete disbelief, but soon realised that I couldn’t leave it like that, especially as the geese were huddled in a traumatised group in the bit of pen that was still available to them.

I started the reconstruction by dismantling all of the fallen panels from each other and the overhead net, dragging away the damaged panel and then attempting to reconstruct a slightly smaller pen using baler twine instead of cable ties. It soon became obvious that, with the wind still gusting strongly, I was going to have to guy the panels in some way, so I set off on a hunt around all the farm buildings for suitable metal spikes and a lump hammer, plus lots more baler twine! The reconstruction took several hours and by then I was soaked to the skin and definitely needed that change of clothing! I did manage, part way through the day, to change into my full wet weather gear and that helped a lot. Sadly, I never thought to take a photo of the initial carnage as I was too focussed on rescuing the geese who, after the second day, got over their distrust of their pen and were once more happy to spread out and graze. 

The mobile goose pen

All of this side had collapsed!

The rest of the farm sit went off without a hitch and I spotted a sparrowhawk, a buzzard and a red kite on my daily walks to the furthest part of the farm to feed the alpaca boys. I still keep hoping to spot otters and kingfishers along the river, but no luck so far.

Red Kite over Woollard!

Finally, I am almost Christmas-ready, with presents wrapped and mince pies made, so I will wish you all a happy and peaceful festive season and will be back in 2023 to try and entertain you.

A frustrating month

 

I returned from Mum’s at the beginning of October, as she seemed to be recovering quite well from her bout of Covid, and I had a couple of appointments booked for that week that I didn’t want to cancel.

At some point during the week I became aware of a persistent, background headache that neither Paracetamol nor Ibuprofen seemed to touch, and tremendous tiredness. I decided to ignore it, as best I could, and carry on as normally as possible, especially as I had a 10-day farm sit booked for the couple at Dundry. Luckily, most of the work is concentrated at the beginning and end of the day, with letting out the poultry, topping up food and water containers and then shutting them in again at night, so I was able to rest during the middle of the day. And, boy, did I need to rest! I cleaned out one of the poultry houses one morning and had to go and have a lie down in the afternoon!

I had promised to have a go at tackling the overgrown fruit cage while I was there so, over a period of a couple of days, I cut out old loganberry and blackberry canes, tied in the new ones, which had ramped off through the other fruit bushes and out through the netting above the fruit cage, tied in the autumn fruiting raspberries and severely pruned half of the gooseberry, red- and black-currant bushes. I left half of them in their overgrown state a) because I ran out of steam and b) because I suddenly panicked that Sally would never forgive me if she had no fruit next year! (I needn’t have worried, because she wants me to back at some point and do the rest!)

The fruit cage before ...

... and after

On Thursday, Russell, their handyman, came and trimmed the sides of the hugely overgrown Leylandii hedge. This, combined with my prunings, made an impressive heap of bonfire material which I just had to get rid of before Sally came home – cue one enormous fire that burned for two days!

My favourite occupation!

It was a good'un!

All the animals behaved themselves (and stayed alive – always good!) and the two elderly cats, who are now 19+, finally seemed to accept me, after 12 years, and both came and curled up next to me one evening. Teo, the young tabby, who is incredibly affectionate to Sally and follows her around everywhere, kept me very much at paw’s length, but did deign to come and keep me company when I was sorting the fruit cage. He liked to use the top netting as a hammock and would occasionally dab me on the head through the holes! I couldn’t decide whether this was affection or not.

Smartie at 19+

Teo in his 'hammock'

Once back from the farm sit my sister, Lynda, and her hubbie, Paul, came down from Sheffield for a few days. I couldn’t put them up in the house, as I would have liked to have done, because my lodgers are still here, so they brought their camper van and stayed on a very nice site at the bottom of the Tor. The weather wasn’t great, so all of the things I thought we might do – climbing the Tor, nice walks around Glastonbury – didn’t happen. However, we did go to Wells Cathedral on one day and saw Gaia – a travelling sculpture of the world, which was hanging in the nave and occupying most of the space.

Gaia in Wells Cathedral

On the Friday evening we met up with Jeni and Hutch in a pub in Glastonbury, before going for a meal in The Crown (where I went during my birthday week). The pub was full of pirates, goths and witchy type people and I couldn’t work out if there was some special ’do’ on or whether it was just a normal night out in Glastonbury – to be honest, I think it was the latter! Again, the food was delicious and we got to try most of the starter dishes as three of us opted for the ‘any three starters as a main course’ option, which we then shared between us.

On the Saturday morning we drove over to Shepton Mallet so that they could see Jeni’s new home, too, and then we wandered round into the town for coffee and cake. I realised how much I would like to move back to Shepton at some point when, in the course of only a few yards, I met three people I knew who would have loved to chat, and the guys in the Cheeky Bean café also know me from my market days. I’d almost forgotten what a very friendly place Shepton is – if you smile at complete strangers there, they are far more likely to smile back and have a quick word than just about anywhere else I have been.

Later on in the day, once the rain had stopped, we drove over to the RSPB reserve on the levels to see if we could see the starling murmuration. It’s still quite early in the season, but they reckoned there were already 30,000 starlings roosting in the reeds each night. That figure will rise to 300,000 by January! I have no photos of the starlings as the rain started again just as they were massing and they all dived into the reeds quite quickly with only a short display first. However, we did see egrets, swans, various ducks and a marsh harrier so were pleased we’d made the effort to go.

Six weeks on from my positive Covid test I still have the headache and feel really tired, so last week I went to see a cranial osteopath that I have been visiting for the last 20+ years, on and off. Luckily, he thinks he will be able to help me over the next couple of weeks and then, as long as I pace myself a bit, I should be back to ‘normal’. The actual Covid infection was hardly anything but the fatigue afterwards has been very frustrating – there is only so much TV I can bear to watch, and only so many pairs of socks and wristwarmers I can knit. 

Shepton Mallet Sunday Market

I had a stall at the Shepton Sunday Market last week and managed to sell a few things, and I have another couple of markets booked before Christmas, so may get rid of a few more. I help the couple who run the Sunday market by turning up early and stewarding, which involves standing by a barrier, greeting the stallholders as they arrive and directing them to their allocated pitches. Once everyone is in I can set up my own stall  and get ready for the day. There is always live entertainment throughout the day, showcasing local talent, and the first act of the day played my sort of music, including a couple of Fairport Convention songs. However, the biggest surprise came when he announced that he would play a song by an Irish singer-song writer, Jonathan Kelly. Many, many years ago when I was in my last year at school, I'd gone to stay with my sister at Bristol University and we'd been to a concert in the Student Union featuring The Strawbs, with support act, Jonathan Kelly. My sister bought his record and I then taped it and took it with me when I went off to college, and I still have it. Consequently, I know all of the words to all of the songs, so happily sat at my stall singing away. At the end of his set, I wandered over for a chat, as I have never met anyone else who has ever heard of Jonathan Kelly. It turns out we saw him on the same concert tour back in 1972! Unfortunately, he didn't know any more songs off the album to play but has promised to learn my favourite for when he comes back in March 2023! For any of you that have read my blogs from the start, this song, Sligo Fair, was the one I sang at an open mic night in Lee Bay, Devon about 12 years ago!

Some of my wares

Three Meals and a Wedding

 

Small White butterfly on water mint

The week after Cropredy it was my birthday, and it turned into a week-long celebration! First of all, my lodgers invited me out for supper with two of their friends, both of whom I had met before when we all worked side-by-side on the organic market garden that Lou and Liam ran. We went to The Crown in Glastonbury which had, until quite recently, been a boarded up eyesore in the centre of the town. The décor was modern but very pleasant and the food absolutely delicious. I opted for three of the starters, served as a main course, as I love a range of different flavours – it must be why I like buffet food so much!

The second treat was actually on my birthday, when I went for a birthday massage at my friend, Karen’s, and then she, her husband and I went off into Wells for supper at a bar/restaurant where they were serving tapas – another meal of beautifully put together flavours, with great company.

To round off my birthday week Jeni, Hutch and Dave took me for a meal at the restaurant in Shepton Mallet where we celebrated my birthday last year. Again the food was delicious and of a very high standard and my dessert was presented to me with ‘Happy Birthday’ piped around the edge of the plate and a single candle gracing the centre!

It was back to work with a bang the following week, with three mornings of gardening, followed by a week-long farm sit at the alpaca farm. There were three new alpacas – Ava and Ivor, born 14 weeks before and Chester, who was just 4 weeks old. Sarah had had a bad time with one of her favourite girls, Angelina, the mother of Ava. She always produces large cria (baby alpacas) and has had difficulties in the past but, this time, it was even worse as the uterus had twisted. The vet had to do an emergency Caesarean to save the mum but prepared Sarah for the inevitability of a dead cria. Amazingly, a very large, very much alive, cria slipped into the world and it wasn’t long before Angelina was up and tending to her new baby, almost as if nothing had happened! Not surprisingly, Sarah has reluctantly decided not to breed from Angelina again. Ava is gorgeous and looks like a big, furry teddy bear.

Angelina followed by Ava

Ivor 

Most of Sarah’s alpacas are of the huacaya variety with short, fluffy coats and a semi-erect topknot, but two of them are of the suri type, which has a much longer, flatter coat, which sometimes looks like dreadlocks, and a flattened fringe. Sarah crossed one of her huacaya males with a suri female and out popped Chester! His coat looks as if it may be typical suri but he has a fluffy topknot and is very cute – this maybe because he is small at the moment, being only 4 weeks old.

Chester and his mum (note her flatter topknot)

The three Labradors were ridiculously pleased to see me, which was gratifying, especially as I don’t really take them for walks while I’m there. However, we did go out to the unoccupied hay field twice a day where I spent a lot of time throwing two frisbees about. The two ‘pups’ would chase after the frisbee and then attempt to bring it back to me together, before trying to decide who would drop it first, so that I could repeat the performance. However, their mum, Bonnie, had totally different ideas and would grab a frisbee and then hang on to it, so there was only one frisbee available for the other two. At some point during the walk down the field, she would lose interest in carrying it and then I would have to search the field for it – it’s surprising how difficult it is to see a bright red frisbee in fairly short grass!

Hazelnut Patrol

At the end of the hayfield I gathered up the frisbees and left them on top of the gatepost while we went into the narrow triangular field that runs alongside the River Chew – my throwing skills lack a certain amount of accuracy and I didn’t want to lose one in the river! The dogs soon got used to this routine and would wait eagerly for me to open the gate so that they could go nutting and blackberrying! I know Labradors will eat most things, but these three adore hazel nuts and blackberries! I’d leave them to it and wander along the river bank hoping to see a kingfisher or even the glimpse of an otter, as Chris got a very grainy video of two otters playing in the water earlier this year. Unfortunately, I was disappointed, but I often saw and heard the buzzard overhead and was lucky enough on one solitary walk to see a large heron.

Morning rollcall of the boys

The male alpacas are kept in a field away from the females and furthest from the farm buildings. Their water comes from a large container that catches rain water from the roof of their shelter and, in a normal English summer, would be more than adequate. However, I became increasingly concerned that I would run out of water for them before the end of the week. Jeni came to visit for a day and with her riding shotgun (and opening the gates for me) we loaded four 5-gallon water containers into the back of my car and drove across two fields to get supplies to the boys. If the weather had been wet, we would never have made it but, once the dew had dried, it was all plain sailing - we still felt quite intrepid, though!

Honda Jazz water carrier!

Despite the long hot, dry summer we have had, the water mint was still thriving and flowering in a dried-up stream bed and was alive with bees and butterflies and the alder trees seemed to have a metallic blue beetle on nearly every leaf. When I looked up online what they might be I was amused to find that they are called Alder Leaf Beetles and were thought to be extinct in this country until 2004! They have obviously made a strong comeback since then, at least in this area, as many of the leaves had been reduced to lace! They do no permanent damage to the trees so that is a plus, after the ravages of pests and diseases on our trees in recent years.

The aptly named Alder Leaf Beetle

The following week was spent gardening for clients with the beginning of the autumn tidy-up and then back to the alpaca farm for a quick weekend sit.

In the middle of September, my niece and her long-term partner were getting married in Sheffield, so Jeni and I drove to Cheltenham, stayed overnight and then continued our journey with Mum, arriving the day before the wedding so that Mum would have a chance to get over the journey. I’d been quite anxious about what I should wear as I have so few ‘smart’ clothes these days. I was really touched when Jeni rang to say that she had been around the local charity shops and bought me a complete ensemble! Her choice was spot-on and fitted really well – I think I shall employ her as my ‘personal shopper’ again!

Mum and me in our finery

Don't they scrub up well!

The wedding was quite informal with the service taking place at the old industrial complex called Kelham Island, in a former engine house, complete with tall red brick chimney stack, and was then followed by a sit-down meal at a nearby venue, owned and run by the same people. The food was plentiful, imaginative and delicious and was then followed by chatting and dancing. It was a lovely, happy gathering and it made a change to see Lynda’s garden, and the rest of Sheffield, with plants in leaf and flowering, as I normally only see it in the depths of winter.

Katie, Simon and Leo

Three cousins having a good chinwag

Unfortunately, on the Sunday morning, Mum felt she was going down with a cold and spent the drive back to Cheltenham alternately coughing and sneezing, and sometimes both together. A couple of days later and she tested positive for Covid and my brother’s partner came from London to look after her, as she was quite weak and wobbly. On the same day, Dave also tested positive and I had begun to feel as if I had a cold coming, too. I'd been so lacking in get-up-and-go, that I had happily sat in front of the TV for several hours watching the coverage of the State Funeral for Queen Elizabeth II. I am not a royalist but was moved by the spectacle and our ability, as a nation, to pull together an extraordinary and splendid ceremony. 

All that week the tests proved negative, until last Saturday when I was feeling quite under-the-weather and ‘Bingo!’ a positive test! Luckily, I’d kept myself pretty much to myself during the week so, hopefully, haven’t infected anyone else. Lynda took over from Jo on Sunday, looking after Mum, and now I have felt well enough to come and do my bit, too, releasing Lynda to attend a long-booked play at Stratford. Mum is gradually recovering and the enforced inactivity won’t do me any harm either – there has been quite a lot of TV watching and knitting of socks!

Gatekeeper on water mint