Happy 2012

On the cusp of the New Year (in fact it's already 'next year' in Australia) and we have another 'guest' in our garden. A fat rat! Actually I am presuming there, it hasn't been seen but it's probably living in our shed and tunnelling into the compost heap which is right next to the shed. We've created a perfect home for it (or them:- apparently rats can produce up to - wait for it - a thousand young a year!). So, the check list for a rat is
1. Shelter (our shed)
2. Food (our compost bin, although I don't think we've put in anything other than fruit of veg we must have done something to encourage the blooming thing)
3. Privacy (being shy creatures they don't want to be out in the open and our compost bin is conveniently tucked between the shed and the greenhouse - we couldn't have made it more suitable if we had tried!)
4. Bird seed and nuts from the bird feeders.
5. Dry conditions (the lid on the compost and the roof on the shed ensures our rodent is cosy in the rain)
 Need I go on? Seems there is no alternative than killing it (oh dear!) although there are a few measures we can try before that. It seems wrong, at the start of a new dawn to be planning the death of an animal though, doesn't it and I hate that option. I want to be able to discourage it but I sort of feel outfoxed (well, you know what I mean) by this intelligent creature and I respect it's ability to source the perfect home for itself. We've always been careful about not adding cooked food to the compost pile but we also live on the edge of a field and woodland so we were always prone to attracting wildlife. Is it true that we are never further away than 12 feet from a rat? Oh, listen to me, I am truly rattled (oh gosh, there I go again, RATtled!). Anyway, enough of this talk. I fear that if, after turning the compost over, soaking it and checking it in a week's time, the signs are still there it's curtains for our furry friend.
I feel a real fraud now, wishing you and yours a Happy New Year (but do have a lovely 2012).

The North wind shall blow..., but not today.

Tonight some friends are calling around for mulled wine and mince pies with thick cream. I've tidied the house to within an inch of it's life, tacked up the last few pictures and stashed a basket full of logs by the wood burner. It's been very cold and wet today so the fire has been burning since early morning. As the light fades and the grey finger of darkness points across the sky I'm drawn to the amber, flickering flames. In fact I am ready for an afternoon sleep which will be a huge mistake as I will then be awake throughout the night. I think I may put on an old Fred and Ginger film and enjoy the schmaltz of Christmas. Jack's cat, Socks, is curled up on my lap, her warmth is a welcome touch. Having locked up the chickens at 4.15pm (before it gets dark) I thought about pulling up the beetroot to make more soup but decided I'd just dash back in before getting soaked by the insistent rain. Luke bought a large bag of peanuts for the birds yesterday, the price is astronomical due to transport costs so he was told. The birds have become dependent on their ready meal and it's a joy to watch them sweeping in and out all day, mind you, they have had to cling on the swinging feeders today whilst the wind buffeted them. Best to stay in and leave Nature to blow herself out.

All creatures great and small

After almost two years  in this rural location I have spotted my first fox. As I scanned the field just behind our garden I could see a young amber fox in the long grass. The same week I watched as a sparrowhawk sat atop our small Acer which acts as a feeding station with four bird feeders hanging from it.After a ten second scan it suddenly alighted and swooped low over the neighbour's gardens, twisting in mid air to chase a blue tit who was trying to evade capture. Only the next week we had another visit which I was alerted to by the squawking of hysterical hens. The sparrowhawk had landed on top of the chicken run with the girls just cms away from it. Shakira raced for cover under the hen house and drew blood when she hit her head against the hanging feeder. This is a dangerous thing to happen to a chicken as, once the others have a taste of blood they will keep pecking at the bloodied chicken and can often kill them. Our two seem to be oblivious to that though and no harm came of it but they took a good while to calm down. The sparrowhawk sat on the fence and fixed me with it's beady eye before slowly taking flight. Since then it has been a fairly frequent visitor to the garden. I suppose it was always going to happen, once we had encouraged all the birds to feed in our garden it was bound to attract a hungry hawk.

Merry Christmas.

There isn't much going on in the garden right now although the chickens have been presented with a new waterproof roof (marine plywood clad in roof felt), the compost has been forked well to try to locate the vermin that seems to have nested in it, the Autumn fruiting raspberries have been cut back to 10 inches and we've tried our best not to walk on the sodden lawn. Our Christmas gift from Nature this year wasn't 20 cms of snow and minus 13. 5 degrees centigrade as we had twelve months ago. This time there was over 20 degrees difference to last year and a mild and sunny day. was enjoyed by us on our Christmas day walk. A great swarm of plovers covered the sky, alternating in colour when they showed their underbellies - one moment dark, the next cream - like a giant tick in the sky.