Duck Squatters

Sometime last week, seven of the village ducks decided to pop by for a visit, the following day they were back again, and the day after that and after that. You get the idea. So, somewhere between 4 and 5pm every day they'd show up, quacking away and I'd try and find some remaining bird seed to feed them with.

This morning I was out relatively early getting everything watered before another hot day set in and the ducks arrived, before 8am. Definitely ahead of schedule!
It is now almost 1.30pm and they're still here.
I just popped down the garden and there they are, a couple hiding in the shade under the picnic bench.

And the others were hiding in the shade of the swing seat, until they saw me and assumed grub was coming their way. Alas, they were wrong.
However, I had just tweeted that I felt guilty for not having a pond, so I decided to improvise. Plus I figured, they had to be thirsty by now. It's a hot day out there people!

The seven ducks are Mum and her six ducklings, it's getting harder and harder to tell them apart, but Mum is a little more slow to get involved, she likes to keep her beady eye on me.

Anyway, they don't seem to mind that it's a poor excuse for a pond, they jumped on in, although it's strictly only 2 ducks at a time in the pool.

They have made attempts to disobey this rule, but attempts are usually scuppered when one falls out head first into the grass. Which, it has to be said, has yet to fail to entertain me!

Getting Back To It

So, it's been a long old time. Hello!

Losing Mifford really sent me into a funk, you know I went day to day in my jolly mode but something really left me when she did.

It's months later, I've just celebrated a birthday and it's time to get back into it.

First things first, an introduction.

This is Kini:

She came to live with me some months ago. I'd quite decided that I wouldn't have another cat, but the empty house proved too much. Then out of the blue I heard that a little cat was looking for a new home. I went to meet her, she was incredibly timid, quite the opposite of Mifford so I wasn't sure what to expect.
On her first night here I lost her, I knew she was in the house but she seemed to have just vanished, I eventually located her holed up behind the computer in a space about half her size.
Over the months she's changed considerably, she's shy around new people but the difference is tremendous. From hiding under the bed any time anyone even breathed in a different way she now wants to investigate every new person that comes round. She still refuses to leave the house but will always be found sitting in the window chattering away at the birds.
She has started to miaow and is quite vocal about her opinions on various things!

Her previous owners had named her Sacha and I hadn't really liked the name, but didn't have any new names in mind. She's black all over apart from a white neckerchief and a white bikini and thus Kini she became. Although her nickname is Pigeon. I have no idea why. Just as I have no idea why I called Mifford, Poodle. I'm just odd.

I've spent a lot of time in the garden of late too, I grow a lot of my own veg so I've been getting that going and also trying to make it look tidier. There was this one corner which was always dreadful, where my swing seat sits and where some of my beans & peas are growing. It was a nightmare to mow so I decided to take up the turf and lay bark chips with this result:

Feel free to come on over and chill out with me out there, once the cushions are in place you can lose hours just gently swinging, plus, the fire pit I ordered for my birthday arrived yesterday so we can even spend the cooler evenings swinging away. I'll light the lanterns, fire up the barbeque and it'll be spot on!

Bad Hare Day

On Wednesday I headed over to my barn, as I went to open the huge sliding door, I squealed and jumped back as I noticed a bloody great hare had died and was leaning up against the barn door.
As I started to move the door I realised the eyes of the dead hare were staring up at me and tried desperately to ignore them.

When I returned to the barn on Thursday I hoped desperately that something would have carried off the dead hare during the night. But no, there it lay, eyes still staring up at me.
I just cannot bear dead animals, I start to get cold sweats and feel nausea.
It didn't help that the movement of the door made the hare wobble about.
As I went to leave the barn I decided to look in the opposite direction and just slam the door as hard as possible, ignoring wobbling dead hare.
I grabbed the handle and pulled hard to slam the door.
The door ground to a sudden halt as it was half shut at the same time as a loud snapping noise rang out.
I told myself not to look, but glanced down anyway.
The legs of the dead hare had jammed the door and snapped. Now the hell what was I supposed to do?
Obviously I rang Harriet, did the well renowned dance of the grossed out girl and squealed a bit.
Whilst Harriet was on the phone for moral support, I slowly dragged the door shut and with it the body of the hare.
I can't even begin to tell you how this makes me shudder. It's just nasty, nasty I tell you!

When I got home, I spoke to my neighbour and pleaded for help.
He came back with me and moved Mr Hare to a much better resting place.
I expressed surprise that he was able to move it so easily and I wished I hadn't when he said "it was actually pretty stuck in there". Eugh.

Why is it that I feel like the only person that ever got a hare stuck in their door?
Which sounds like a euphemism.

Ugly?

I saw a link to this earlier, which supposed that this is the worlds ugliest cat.
I happily describe myself as a cat person, more than that, I'm an animal lover. I've always had pets from Bobby Flowerpot my hamster (I was young, I'm sure the name made sense) till Mifford today.
In between have been pets including cats Smudge & Lightning, chinchillas Poppy, Quaker, Dobey, Flip, Flop, rabbits Oswald, Goose, Edwina, Rosalind, Chish, guinea pigs Wellington & Fips, hamsters Blob, Chaffie, Chi-Chi, gerbil Jeremy Splodge, stick insects Edgarina & Gluey and a locust Jiminy. There was also Louis the Bichon Frise - but he belongs to Mum so not strictly mine but he lived with me a while, although I can't forget Delirious, a greyhound but she came as a bundle with my ex-fiance.
As a youngster we also had chicken and several aviaries with budgerigars, love birds, canaries, quail, finches.....
The point being I love animals, always have, always will.
And I just don't think that cat is ugly.
I think it's adorable. I want to take it home and cuddle with it.
Which is not something Mifford would approve of. It's safe to say she feels nothing but loathing for anything with four legs, and if you have feathers, two legs don't work for her either. And to be fair she did catch a slug once, so even a lack of legs annoys her. It's safe to say she hates anything that is not a human. She's a bitch, what can I say.
But a cute one.
This is a little known yogic pose: "at one with radiator".


I take a great blurry photo. It's a skill.

Bangs And Sadness

It's been a strange start to the year. Since Christmas, whilst I haven't personally received any bad news, a number of my friends have. It's difficult to hear of people having tough times and it leaves you feeling very helpless, for there are never the right words to make it better.
So, I'm sending out all the good vibes and wishes that I can muster.

On Saturday I killed a pheasant. I didn't even see it as it ran straight to the side of my car and underneath it. It breaks my heart, there are so many of them around and I've always been a little amazed in all my recent years in the country I've only had close calls.
I'll always feel a guilt about it that I can't shake.
All the way back in 1998 I ran over a squirrel and I've never forgotten.
A few years before that, a rabbit.
I remember each incident vividly and probably always will.
What's curious is that whilst I do feel guilt, it's swift and less severe if I kill ants and flies. Is it the fact of their numbers, their ability to annoy without even trying? The same is true of slugs and snails, I avoid killing them if at all possible, I don't want to kill them, I'd prefer to live and let live.
Maybe I'm sensitive or maybe it's the vegetarian in me.

On a sunnier note, I was watching TV earlier today and a scene made me laugh so hard I cried. Watching Ty Pennington (another Celebrity Crush - of course) insert a detonator into a stick of dynamite, under careful supervision, before placing it in a hole so that he would be able to blow some granite away from the wall of the mine. He was visibly nervous and not keen on the idea as he slowly slid the dynamite into the prepare hole, at which point his supervisor leaned in and very loudly shouted "BANG!". I swear I've never seen anyone jump like that, I sincerely wish I could find it on youtube. I'm giggling now, just remembering it.

Some years ago (more than I like to admit) my best friend at the time, Sarah and I arrived at my house after school. No one was home, we went into the hallway and I stopped her.
"Shhh, do you hear that?"
Sarah: "What?"
Me: "That!"
Sarah: "I don't hear anything"
Me: "Shh, listen carefully"
Sarah: "But...."
Me: "Shhhhhhh"
We descend into absolute silence. I scream "BANG" and proceed to fall about laughing till I hurt as Sarah nearly collapses from terror.
I'm a little evil sometimes.

Song Of The Week XXXV

This week is a dedication.

On Monday I met a very cute little black and white cat. It came up to me, it rubbed itself around my ankles purring softly.
I bent down, stroking it from head to tail, whilst quietly making those clucking noises one seems to make around animals and small babies.
For about a minute I stroked the cute cat as it purred happily away.
Then suddenly, with no forewarning and like a ninja, the black cat span round onto its hind legs clasped its front paws and claws around my wrist and attached its mouth to my hand.
Little bastard. To you black cat I dedicate this song.

Presidents of the USA - Kitty:

What's Going On?

Oooh lots and lots.

Least that's the way it's seemed.

Let's see what's occurred. Obviously in no particular order as my brain is random, and doesn't work in any real order. Despite my OCD leanings!

On June 20th I turned 33. I wrote last year about how much I hate birthdays and wasn't really looking forward to another one. Damn their annual occurrence. But you know what? It really wasn't so bad. Who knew?!

I even got to go for High Tea... check out the sandwich and cake selection - I couldn't even see my fellow diners for cake. Pretty much heaven. Although it was quite a fright to establish I DO have a cake limit.

That's my sister hiding behind the second pic, she travelled down from Orkney for a wee visit and it was really lovely to see her and even better that she made it just in time for some High Tea adventures!

Then the day of my picnic rolled around and it rained. And rained. And rained.

It had to be decamped to my mothers house, which was good that it was possible to do that, but made me really sad in the morning that the weather had, rather literally, rained on my parade. But worse things happen!

It was really good to catch up with everyone that was able to make it and braved the barbecue under the big brolly!
I can't quite believe I didn't take a single picture, I was wearing my super-cool dress too!

***

I had my weekend away at The Big Session and it was really good. If you ignore what felt like arctic temperatures overnight. I did wake one morning and briefly fear that the numbness in my nose indicated it had frozen and dropped off.

We called this the Tree of Death.

Chairs are strangely frowned upon you know. They cage them these days.

That's my tent that is! See that brown lump? It's retro kitsch.

Well, it's old anyway. And I love it! Although it's about due for a bit of patching and the gingham ribbon that holds it together might be due for replacing...

Mmm, pizza. The Big Session is a really green festival, they insist that all plates, cutlery and napkins are compostable or recyclable. Even the plastic 'glasses' drinks are served in are biodegradable and gone in 2 months. This was even better though, my pizza came on a wooden board. Zero refuse. And damn it tasted fine!

I got to see plenty of folks that I really like and have a good dance and have a good chill out. I didn't partake of the ceilidh, I'm far too clumsy to Strip The Willow! I established however that one pair of jeans is not suitable for jumping up and down, as they slowly started to migrate I had to hold onto them whilst bouncing around. I'm not known for my elegance and that was very inelegant!

***
I've also been out there doing a bit of walking, I didn't think I was going to make it to the top of this hill and two gentlemen stopped to wait with me whilst I reassured my heart that there was no need for it to give up and I really WAS nearly at the top. When I finally made it, this view greeted me. I am so proud of where I live, it's beautiful.

***
This last weekend I went, with Mum and Tim, to visit my little sister in her new house. Now, it's well known that I don't really like cities and I've never been especially fond of Bristol, but she has a really lovely house. We hacked and dug and chopped and pruned and planted in the garden and it's gorgeous out there. We finally rested and made a lovely barbecue, which was obviously smelling so good to Louis that he practiced his best pleading face:

Go on, just one sausage. Look into his eyes.
I think he forgets my vegetarianism. He definitely had little interest in my vegetable kebabs. By the way, buying Halloumi cheese in Bristol is like a treasure hunt gone mad. We failed.

I also got to meet some friends while I was down there, old and new and it was really lovely to have that opportunity. When there's three hours between you it feels like halfway across the world. And with petrol prices hovering between £1.15 & £1.20 it's expensive to drive for three minutes, let alone three hours!

****
I spent a lot of time last week doing some overdue spring cleaning. I attacked, in earnest, my garage. I got rid of an amazing amount of crap and decided that I may as well burn a number of boxes I'd found as my recycling bin was full. I looked around at my neighbours. No washing to be seen. It was a weekday in school hours, I figured I'd be disturbing the minimum amount of people. I figured wrong. The peace of my village was somewhat ruined by a neighbour (I haven't exactly established which one) screaming that having a bonfire was a very stupid thing to do. I had apparently missed some washing. I contemplated shouting back, but the tirade was so vicious, I opted to hide behind my garage. I'm brave me.
So, more gardening is in order, I have been slowly attacking the weeds that are prolific, Mifford is helping as much as she can by laying on them, I'm not entirely sure these attempts at suffocation will be effective, but they say it's the thought that counts.

***
I can't remember if I said this, but by the time we'd finished the walking festival we'd done nearly 40 miles, which I'm pretty pleased with really, considering I'm incredibly unfit. I'll try and work on that this year! Maybe!

***
Tomorrow is July and the countdown to the Cambridge Folk Festival. It's very exciting! Well for me anyway!

***
I got myself an ice cream maker with money that I got for my birthday. The bowl of which refuses to fit into my freezer. Damn. Is it a little OTT to get a new freezer so you can make ice cream? No, I thought not.
I also got myself some extra foodie stuff, a piping bag for icing and the like - I'm enjoying cooking and am going to try my hand at some baking. I bought myself this little book: Cupcake Magic and I love it, I just wish there were more pics in it! Got a fab cookie & biscuit book too.

***
So there you go, that's some of what I've been up to. It's been a busy old time, but a lot of fun too. Just as it should be!

A Flurry Of Photos

After a very early start this morning I wasn't really ready for the world so curled up on my sofa and watched a movie, which finished around 10am. Finally feeling ready for the day I looked out the window and decided a walk was definitely on the agenda.

I headed out over the fields and was surrounded by the song of these and these, both plentiful in the skies, which were filled with cotton clouds.

After the fields, it's a world of trees and the birds were strangely quiet, with just the sound of the trees groaning gently in the strong winds. I love that all of the fragile snowdrops are out, their white bobbing heads encouraging the advance of spring.

As are the daffodils, which, whilst blurry are still gorgeous. Next time I really must remember to take my camera with me. I love my phone and most of the time, the photographs come out reasonably well in my distinctly unskilled hands, but it would be lovely to get even better. There are so many opportunities for pictures out there.

The knotted, twisted trees beg to have their photo taken. When I hear that low groan of their branches it always makes me remember the trees in The Lord of the Rings. I imagine them talking to themselves and each other, naturally wondering what they're saying. Wondering if they welcome the birds nested in their branches, or feel the same way as we do when a pigeon blocks our chimney with his abode.

This one feels as though he's been brought to his knees, and yet remains distinctly majestic. Is that possible anywhere else but nature?I think this is the treasure tree. Somewhere out there is a map that has this tree marked upon it. It has an 'X' for marking the spot, and that's definitely an arrow lower down, so somewhere off to the right, is buried the loot. For sure.
Does anyone have a spade?So, is a wooden horseshoe as lucky as one that actually has graced the hoof of a horse? What is it about the horseshoe that makes it lucky? I should like to know!Check out the local wildlife! It's cool huh?Look at the snail trail!Last but not least, arriving home, pink faced and windswept and happy to see the lovely weeping willows that have made their home along the side of the village beck.

As an aside, I had a super time at the gig of the band below, as always. The pub was packed to bursting but so very friendly. At one point in the evening a chap dropped onto the bench next to me, turned and said "Is it always this good in here?" And you know, yes, yes it is. Whilst it's a very popular pub, it also feels a little like a well-kept secret. It's the venue of my music quiz, which is legendary, there's also jamming sessions every Sunday, and general quizzes, it's just a great place to chill out and chat. I'm starting to feel a need for a pineapple juice and lemonade, although when the barmaid knows that to be your drink of choice you may need to question the frequency with which you frequent the establishment!

As If By Magic...

I turned the shower on this morning and while it warmed up I popped into my bedroom to brush my hair, makes it easier to comb through after you wash it, don't you know.

I walked back into the bathroom and Mifford was patiently sitting with her back to me, staring at the shower curtain as she does most days while I shower, waiting for me to re-emerge and give her her own shower of attention.

I don't think she realised that I wasn't actually in the shower.
I called to her and she jumped over a foot in the air in fright.
It might be wrong, but I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to sit down and catch my breath.

The look on her face clearly said two things:
1, How the fuck did you do that? You were in the shower and now you're behind me? How is that even possible?
2, You're laughing at me? I will not forget this indignity. I will save this moment and take revenge at a later date. Then we'll see who's laughing.

I'm a little afraid.
And yet still laughing to myself.

Dogsitting

I'm not used to having a dog. I forget that if you put something edible on the floor, it's not likely to remain there for long. I also forget that this pooch:has a predilection for discovering what treasures you have chosen to throw away. Unfortunately, yesterday I chose to throw away an almost empty container of Poppy Red hair dye. The little white Louis is now a little pink. I may have chortled a little.

I was walking him this morning and saw the funkiest blackbird. It had a completely white 'forehead' and was covered with little white spots, so that it looked almost polka-dot. It's been a long time since I've seen any wild albino animals, I guess they're too much of a target to predators, but damn he was funky. I want one!

On Monday when I went to the barn I pulled up in front of the barn doors and noticed a flock of birds splashing in one of the big puddles and realised I was watching dozens of fieldfares all enjoying a good bathing session. I sat in my car and watched as they seemed to play, splashing each other. I can't remember the last time I saw a fieldfare and I wonder if they're on their way to somewhere warmer, stopping briefly in my puddle for a spruce up. I checked, and it seems they winter here, so I'd love to know where they spend their summers.

I've been after a chair for my bathroom for ages and on Monday I spotted the campest purple chair ever, and for a bargain price so it was mine. Or so I thought. Someone else has proclaimed ownership:

It's a bit of a rubbish photo, but Mifford is already covering my camp chair with her furry self. She really believes that what's mine is also hers.

Posturing

Recently, every time I've driven to my barn the pheasants have been out in force. I really want to know what is driving their behaviour as there is definite posturing.
It's not the mating season and yet they are facing off against each other, staring down, totally unaware of everything around them. I had to stop on the road as one pair unblinkingly tried to intimidate the other, before they alternately jumped, feet first with claws outstretched at the head of the other.
Why are they doing this?
One friend suggested their pea sized brains makes them stupid, but that seems overly harsh. They must have something that leads them to behave in this manner deep in their instinctual behaviour.
Another friend suggested that as winter approaches perhaps it's a claim for territory as food grows scarcer. That's my current favourite theory.

I just know it's really quite impressive to watch, their colours are so bright and vibrant it's hard to tear your eyes away. I would love to be a photographer to be able to sit and capture an image of them.

The past few days the air has changed. Winter is squeezing Autumn out of existence and the chill in the air is clear as your breath forms clouds in front of you with each exhale. Finally I get to dig through my trunk to find my wealth of scarves and wear my long vintage gloves. Simple pleasures. Aren't they the best kind?