January energy

Aah, the weekend.  I've been gradually running out of steam this week, after a flying start.  But things are a little tidier at home now.  Lots of things have gone, there is space where before there was stuff and somehow my mind feels a little clearer too.  Getting something done and crossed off of a list makes me feel like I can get other things done too.  I do love the January energy.

I took most of the stuff to the local recycling centre, and managed to come back with only three things.  Firstly, two plastic plant pots to replace some of the broken terracotta ones.  No doubt they'll get broken as well, but at 50p for two I shall be less cross.  Possibly.  And I also brought back a dictionary.  At the very last moment when it was time to put it in the book bank, I snatched it back.  We do have a big dictionary already, but there's always room for another one I think.  We do love words in this house, and the dictionary often comes off of the shelf during a meal to look up the exact definition of something or other.  So it was rescued.  It's nothing special, it was mine when I was younger and it originally came from a second-hand shop, so it's quite old, but to my delight, the eldest was thrilled to find it on the bookshelf.  It's the simple things.

Still being watched by a guinea pig at all times.  This is the one that likes eating.

I sorted out my little sewing box this week.

The biggest boy helped me put all the thread in colour order.  Then I dropped the whole thing down the stairs and broke the plastic tray when the middle boy got under my feet.  Did I ever mention how clumsy I am?  Me and the middle boy tend to move silently about the place, so we're always colliding with each other in doorways.  I need to hang a bell round his neck.

The biggest boy patiently helped me put it all back again.

I spent a moment looking at some old things in the sewing box.  The metal gauge was my mother's, and I remember her using it when she made clothes for me.  The marking chalk and the thimble were as well, and no doubt the old wooden cotton reel too.

Something on my to-do list is to find a use for a couple of letter press trays I have.  I have a third one hung in the hall, filled with little 2" square photos.

Pictures from three or four years ago, together with the odd quote, a bit of map of a favourite spot, a pretty scrap of paper.

I'm a bit obsessed with Ordnance Survey maps.  I pick them up from second-hand book shops sometimes, and cut them up for various things - scrapbook pages, writing paper, covering things - I just love them.

Although I haven't done any work at the allotment for weeks (months?), we've been enjoying some allotment veggies this week, from the freezer and the store cupboard.  Yesterday I made a lentil and coconut curry with onions, broad beans, courgette and golden beetroot.  Today we had some roasted uchiki kuri squash.  I'm really impressed with how well they're storing.

This picture was taken at sunset, hence the extra golden glow.  The rain had actually stopped for a bit, but we've had so much today that the ground is sodden.  Two out of four of the weekend football things have been cancelled or postponed.  I have to confess I wasn't looking forward to standing outside in the mud for three-quarters of the weekend.  Two down, two to go...  Wishing you all a very good weekend.

This has been so much fun! Goodbye.

I'm on a manic decluttering roll at the moment.  Nothing is safe.  I'm going deep and throwing out piles of plastic and all sorts of oddments that are no longer used.  In the darkest recesses of the garage I found what appeared to be an enormous dead rat on the floor.  In an act of enormous heroic bravery I poked it with a stick.  It turned out to be a toy hedgehog puppet.  But still, it could have been a rat, and I've impressed myself more than you know by not screaming.

Every so often as I declutter I have a Moment.  I'll pick up an old toy, one that each little boy played with in those long, happy pre-pre-school days, and I'll be a bit sad that things have moved on.  This was one such toy.

Fairly hideous, I'm sure you'll agree.  But the little people loved it.  It ended up living in the car, and on too-long journeys or when little people were sleepy at the wrong time, it was handed over to the back seat, and the noise of beeps and questions and cheering would fill the air.  As I picked it up and put it in a carrier to go to the charity shop I happened to press the "off" button, and the familiar voice said jauntily, "This has been so much fun!  Goodbye."  It stopped me dead in my tracks.  Oh it was fun, it really was.

But of course everything moves on.  It must, it's the way of things, and it's right.  I try very hard not to dwell on the passing of their littleness.  Instead, I take things to the Sort-It Centre and the charity shop and I tuck a handful of special things into the cupboard for, well, you know, and I take a deep breath and concentrate on enjoying the little people right now.  Because I know that in a year I will look back at photos of today and think, how much smaller they were.  We can't go back, but we can have a really good time right now.  And it is someone else's turn to enjoy Thomas the Tank Engine.

The guinea pigs kept an eye on me while I decluttered.  This is Mrs Armitage, the adventurous one.  She channels the spirit of Olga da Polga.  The other one, Lulu, mainly likes to eat.  It never fails to astonish me how much piggies eat.

I'm still enjoying the flowers on this cyclamen.  It's been going for weeks now.  And my favourite bit is the buds, they are so beautiful in the way their petals curl neatly around.  Such a pleasure in the depths of winter.

We received this lovely wedding invitation the other day.  So pretty, and so cleverly cut and folded.  The actual invitation is a hexagon card inside the folds.

It's not until the summer, so I've got a while to ponder what exactly the boys will wear.  In the meantime I'm pressing on with the decluttering.  I've got a big to-do list, and I'm not afraid to tackle it.  Onwards, always onwards.  You can probably feel me taking a really deep breath.

SAS practice

We dragged the little people out for a walk this afternoon.  I've no idea why they feel the need to protest when we suggest it, because they always have a good time once we're there.  The middle boy is loving his SAS survival guide at the moment, so I told him he could get in some practice.  We headed up to Painswick Beacon in the Cotswolds, which is lumpy bumpy ground, perfect for SAS training.

The littlest boy insisted on carrying the rucksack with the drinks and cookies, until the cookies had been eaten anyway.

There's a stunning view from the top of the beacon.  The blue area in the middle of the picture is flooding, where the river has spilled into fields.

Sneaky SAS tracking techniques.

Back when I posted about a previous walk which resulted in blisters on little feet from walking in wellies, Sustainable Mum suggested second-hand walking boots.  I checked out Ebay and found that they are surprisingly cheap - less than £5 each.  So now they are all kitted out in some really nice and fairly new boots, and no-one complained about their feet at all.  Great tip SM, thank you.

At one stage we did actually lose the children.  They managed to circle round and end up in front of us in prime ambushing position.  It made them very happy to put one over on us.  Score one for the SAS survival guide.

I had to go and investigate these immaculate little trees.  Beech I think, and clipped to within an inch of their lives.

I'm so glad we went and made the most of the beautiful sunshine.  Days like this are precious.  Of course, I must be careful not to encourage them too far down the path of joining the SAS.  Next time I'll have to think of a new ruse.

After the storm

So that's it, Christmas is done, packed away for another year.  And much as I love it, I am never sorry to put everything back in the box and get back to a (slightly) more minimal existence.  Some of us survived unscathed, others were not so lucky.

I do rather like this chap though, so I glued him back together.

I'm waiting for a break in the weather to tackle lots of outside jobs, as well as emptying and tidying the garage, which is going to be a huge undertaking, but it does need to be done, and as I like to say, if not now, when?  I have been seized by a little New Year energy, and I'm making the most of it.

The patio is looking in a sorry state.  It's not just the bare winter stems, it's things like this.

And this.  Neither of these photos were staged.  It's looked like this for days.  Sigh.

Those boys of mine aren't allowed on the grass when it's muddy, so they kick the ball around the patio instead.  I do mutter, "Mind the pots" every now and again, but nonetheless there are many casualties.  I really don't know what to do.  I don't want to stop them playing, they do love it, but equally I don't want a bare patio.  And I really don't want to stare at smashed up wreckage.  I'm wondering if I should take up the paving stones and put the plants into the ground.  Or maybe put a barrier between pots and boys, something like railway sleepers.  We shall see.  Probably I'll just re-pot things and carry on as before, until I run out of pots.  Particularly given the price of railway sleepers these days.  I'm sure they used to practically give them away...

We went to Wells on Saturday, and passed lots of waterlogged countryside.

Believe it or not, the picture below is a field.  Even though there's a confused seagull at the edge of the water.

Apologies for the bad photos, they were taken at sunset from a moving car.

I just missed the actual sunset in the mirror, it would have been a nice shot.  Instead I got this.

If I had a pound for every photo I've missed...

It's actually stopped raining here today, although I know that some areas are still really suffering.  The view from the top of the house was lovely, after all of the recent gloom.

At this time of year you can just see the Tudor castle, and if the chimney on the left wasn't there, you could see the church as well.  You can just make out the gold weather vanes at the top.

And in the distance, the mighty Severn.

It looks innocuous from up here, but don't be fooled.  Upstream it has burst it's banks, and places like Tewkesbury are once again flooded.  A difficult start to the New Year for so many.

I took the children for a last trip to the library at the end of the holidays.  And I found a couple of gardening books for myself while I was there, including a book about seed saving, which is something I'd really like to do.  I find it quite confusing as to what can be saved and will grow true, and what will not.  Hopefully this book will enlighten me.

I looked through my seed box to see what see of my own I had.

The answer was, not much.  Three packets, and one of those was from a greengrocer squash.  Hopefully next year I'll be able to save more though, now that I have the manual.

The seed saving book really does look very useful, everything is explained right from the basics onwards.

It was a pleasure to find a book with so much information in it.

The other book I found was a week by week account of allotment life, with lists of jobs to be done each month.  I'll have a browse through it over the next few weeks, and hopefully be (a little) organised come spring.  Although I'm not counting on it.

My most pressing jobs at the moment are inside though.  I'm on a de-cluttering drive, and this time I'm determined to make a dent in all of the old toys and things that aren't used much any more.  I do love the energy in January.  I'm not one for making loads of resolutions, but I do like a list or two, and I do love to get rid of things and shake up the chi a bit.  Wishing you lots of good energy for this brand new month.

Sunset at the allotment, New Year's Eve

While everyone was busy playing football in the garden yesterday I popped out to the recycling centre and to pick up a couple of groceries.  And while I was at the supermarket, I couldn't resist a quick trip over the road to the allotments.

The sun was about to set, I had the whole site to myself, and honestly it was a magical moment.

This is my plot, from the marker down to the green shed and the hedge at the bottom.  And how different (and manageable!) it looks in deepest winter.  Everything is stripped back to the bare bones.  I stood for a while remembering what it was like in midsummer.  The first area there, with fruit bushes and raspberry canes, was almost inaccessible.  Where has it all gone?!

I was thrilled to see that the elephant garlic had come up.  It's fairly expensive, and last time I was down here there was no sign of life.  It was an ebay purchase, grown on someone else's allotment, and I only have three cloves, so I'm glad it's looking good.  I've not tried it before, but I think it's supposed to be fairly mild.

Just up the path there was an upended fruit cage.  The weather's been fairly stormy here, with high winds and driving rain.  I'm not sure where the cage came from, so I left it where it was.  I wasn't really wearing allotmenting clothes either!

Sunset.  It was so still and peaceful.  A million miles away from noisy New Year's celebrations and crowds and stress and traffic jams.  I didn't forget to be thankful.

This is the boys' and my favourite shed.  So pretty!

It's like a little house.

The last of the sun was hitting the stone wall at the top of the site.  A good shed, a water butt, a rusty out-all-year chair.  Allotment perfection.

I like how close everything is in our little town.  You can just see the church from the top of the site here, to the left of the big evergreen, a short walk away down the high street.

On the way out I saw this amazing plot.

Lovely isn't it?  Neatly terraced, as the top of the site slopes quite a bit, and absolutely immaculate.  Someone's put in a lot of work and is enjoying a well earned break I think.  One of these days I am going to have to put on my wellies and do some actual work on my plot, instead of just wandering vacuously around with a camera on my way to Tesco...

Just as the sun was setting, in the top of a nearby tree there was a little bird singing his heart out.  You can just make him out.  I think it was a finch of some kind.

Whenever I see this scene in winter it reminds of Thomas Hardy's poem, "The Darkling Thrush".  It was first published at the end of December 1900, and was originally called "The Century's End 1900".  Some of the lines are so utterly beautiful, and as always with Thomas Hardy he perfectly captures the details of the English countryside.  I thought it might be just the thing to share today.

I leant upon a coppice gate

      When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter's dregs made desolate

      The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

      Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be

      The Century's corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

      The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

      Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

      The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

      In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

      Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

      Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

      His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

      And I was unaware.

Wishing you all much happiness and contentment in 2014.