Christmas bird

Luke has kindly brought Christmas to the wild birds. Sunflower hearts have attracted the blue, great and coal tits as well as the gold, green and chaffinch. Dunnocks, robins, blackbirds and wrens have all gathered around - with our chicks catching the crumbs underneath.(just click on the photo for it to be enlarged).

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Roses grow on you.

Luke recently had to house a huge amount of red roses for his workplace. We only had them here for one night but I did enjoy feeling like all my Valentine's days had come at once.
Ole!

Wetter than a duck's.....

A deluge today. Will it ever stop or are we really having the Apocalypse as I type? How is it
possible to have so much rain?
Well, don't worry. I don't expect any answers. I suppose if it's sunny somewhere in this world it has to be raining elsewhere but why does it have to be in the same place for fifteen months? I blame the Ryder cup. Do you remember it was held in Wales a couple of years ago? It proved to the world how wet this country could be and it doesn't seem to have stopped since. Enough already, damn you!
The chicken's house has sprung a leak, the rat has decided enough is enough and has moved to somewhere drier (thank goodness) and Jack's cat is taking refuge in our wood store.
Although I planted some very late (and extraordinarily cheap) tulip bulbs last week I have not ventured outdoors since and doubt I shall be doing so in the near future, save to get more wood for the burner.
The saving grace is that it's ideal weather to sit indoors and spy the numerous birds on the numerous feeders.
We have had eleven birds on one branch which is lovely to watch. Blue and Great tits, Gold Finches, Dunnocks and even an occasional Robin. We've also had sweep bys from the Sparrow Hawk, an occasion guaranteed to send the birds into hiding for several long minutes until they think the danger has past.
Last weekend, at my Mum;s house we watched a Sparrow hawk crash into the pyracantha and as my Dad said, "Everything has to eat".

Tenembaum

This weekend we are out gathering greenery for our Christmas decorations. Foolishly, last year I pulled up the hideous hallway carpet we inherited with the house and relished what a lot of stripping and sanding was involved in getting the natural look I desired. But the scuffed and paint-splattered floor lent itself well to the shabby chic look that I could get away with using soft candle light and a mass of foliage swagged up the bannister.
This Christmas we have freshly stained floors and newly painted banisters so I'm loath to risk messing it up with my usual festive decorations. I may just get a big jug of greenery and leave it at that but it's so easy, once I'm in the Christmas mood, to go all out. I shall consult the oracle (Luke) on it and see what he says but after the ten month DIY project that my carefree act of carpet removing caused I'm sure his words will be, "Leave it alone!"
At least we can put up a Christmas tree together.

The finches have benefited from Luke's early Christmas present to them; a sunflower feeder. He added it to our collection of peanut, bird seed, Niger seed and fat ball feeders and within three days it was empty! Mind you we did catch a squirrel dangling from the overhanging branch to help himself!
Well, it's a cold week and every thing has to eat.

Wreaths and swags.

In a fortnight's time I shall be raiding the hedgerows, taking care not to take anything with berries on that could feed the birds. It'll be time for me to find some braid or a length of rope that I'll tie in swags on the handrail of the stairs in order. to fix stems of holly and confier branches to before adding glowing baubles to give it some colour. I can add artificial berries to. Along with a bowl of clemtines and some scented candles it should feel quite festive and take our mind of the continual rain. Merry Christmas everyone.

Will it ever stop?

This year has been a wash out. I love gardening and I like writing my blog but this darn rain has literally put a dampener on it all. I've not been able to do very much, nothing has excelled and I haven't had much to write about. Three weeks to go before Christmas and it's still raining. Not feeling too festive even though the Christmas cards have been posted, the mincepies made and all the chestnuts peeled and made into the stuffing for our CHristmas bird.
So I'm tucked up indoors with the fire blazing and a hot chocolate in my hand. Gardening may have to wait till next year and whilst I'm sorry not to have my regular dialogue with you I haven't really got much to say.

I did love the golden glow from the trees at the edge of the field on one of the dry days last week, beyond the wood is Caerphilly mountain.

Luckily we had a large delivery of logs last week that Linda, our neighbour, and I made short work of stacking in the log store;. Girl power at our age!

Where's the Ark?

Although the hens have been dusting themselves today in the greenhouse nothing else has been much out and about. A blitz of brown alerted us to the arrival of the Sparrowhawk this morning as it flashed past our bedroom window in hot pursuit of breakfast. The tiny bird evaded capture by flying into a dense shrub in Jack's garden which foiled it's pursuer and there was a flapping of wings as it untangled itself and, looking slightly ruffled, flew onto the fence so it could preen itself again before taking off on another hunt.

Once up and dressed we nipped into the local DIY store to get some coal for the stove. Despite it being a  fairly recently built building the weather was proving the victor and the staff's low tech solution was to place buckets to catch the drips, right next to the electrical and lighting aisle.
As yesterday saw us driving gingerly through a huge flood not once, but twice, I didn't really fancy having anymore wet weather situations. So today I've been indoors all day apart from opening and closing the chicken's pop holes.
Time to get the wellies out!

Lovely weather for ducks.

Well, the weather warning was correct. We're still experiencing the torrential downpour that has lasted for hours now. The hens took one look at the rain and hot footed it up the ramp to the dryness of their perch. The babies didn't fare so well, with one of them being blown off their ramp by the strength of the wind.Only the unseen rat in the compost bin is dry and warm, hiding in the bin with copious amounts of food.
This year we've seen such a lot of rain and so little sun. Now we are being told to brace ourselves for a freezing winter. Oh dear.

Remember me?

It's been wetter than I can remember for a long time, hence the no show on my blog. What can I tell you? We have filled the water butt in just two days, the ground is too wet to stand on and the girls have been 'holidaying' in the greenhouse to prevent trench foot!
However, with a break in the downpour today I hopped outdoors and pulled up the summer bedding from my barrel and two pots and replaced them with tulip and allium bulbs. I roughly pushed my fingers into the compost to make little beds for some iris bulbs too and then, as the first fat drops warned me of more rain, I planted the last of my tulips in double quick time. I'll be glad of those come the springtime.
A weather warning email has even sent to all council workers for tomorrow so I guess we have more rain to come! Roll on 2013 and maybe an actual summer! It seems a very long way off yet.
Sorry I've been away so long!

Chicken run.

I do feel for our little girls. True, they do have a much richer life than many hens in those tiny runs but how they adore to scratch around in the dirt or leg it over to Jack's garden where the grass is longer and they sometimes find cat food or cake thrown out for them. So when we can we free them from their chicken runs and let them loose. Today was my early finish so I got home about 4.15. First job was to open the doors of the pens and watch them go, the second was to scrape the droppings board clean and then it was indoors to make a cup of tea. Sadly with the winter days getting shorter they only came out for thirty minutes before trundling off to bed. There was still a little time for the new chicks to scratch about in the veg patch.

A joy to visit.

For three solid hours this morning I boiled and peeled chestnuts in order to make soup and stuffing. One kilo gram of chestnuts took from 10am till 1.00pm to peel and I ended up with prune fingers as they had been handling hot wet chestnuts for so long. Then of course, I had to make the soup and the stuffing. I'm sure that come Christmas I will be pleased to have the stuffing already made (if it lasts that long without me succumbing to cooking it as chestnut stuffing is a particular favourite of mine). We had some of the soup for lunch and then, joy of joys, we visited the garden centre for a quick wander around and I bought some new gardening gloves after Luke wore my last pair when he was putting a new roof on the shed and ended up with a hole in the finger. I also spent five pounds on a pretty orchid for the house. The one I really wanted was three times the price and I didn't want to pay any more so opted for the cheaper one. Sometimes these things are false economies but I love having flowers and plants around so I shan't regret that one and may even succumb to buying one I really wanted too.
The hens were allowed out as we were home most of the day and it was hilarious watching them all fly out of the runs. They have been cooped up since Wednesday afternoon so couldn't wait to fly the nest, so to speak. Each chicken came out with a ludicrous flight path and little Mrs. Bun ended up flying straight into the raspberry patch - no wonder Luke chopped them all down afterwards. It's time for their annual cut and it's been months since we had the last raspberry although I think the hens may have enjoyed a few more than we did.
The two new hens now have names that we agree on. I think we've turned into proper chicken owners now because I've stopped thinking about naming them. However, the old rule that if something has a name we don't eat it still stands for any animal we own. Once you find out their personalities (and believe me when I tell you that each chicken has it's own individual personality - yes, really), well, you just can't dispatch them.
So Buckster, Lunar, Poppy, Mrs Bun and.., Betty and Silvie are all safe.
Last night Luke had to retrieve an egg by hooking it with the garden rake. Silly Mrs Bun isn't like normal chickens and doesn't hide away in a dark and comfy nest to lay her eggs. Nope, she just seems to lay them where she is standing and then looks surprised to see the egg when she turns around. So her latest lay was just left in the run and out of reach, hence the rake. But that chicken can do no wrong in Luke's eyes and he just rolled it along the ground till we could pick it up and wash it off. Scrambled egg in the shell., no doubt.

Never a dull moment!

After yesterday's sudden sleet shower, today we experienced - in this order - rain, sun, hail, sun and rain. Wellies and bathing costumes are the order of the day. A beautiful rainbow hung over us at lunchtime but in the shadows I still found remnants of the hailstones an hour after they'd fallen.Excuse teh photograph quality, this was taken on my phone but I couldn't walk past the small pile of hailstones in amongst the leaves.

Bald as a coot

On the way to town (after parking cheaply on the outskirts and walking in) I took the pathway along the river to see what wildlife was on it. These two little coots didn't disappoint and came tootling over to me.

Reaching high

This pale lemon hollyhock has seeded itself in a patch of rough ground on the outskirts of the city.

Work lends a helping hand

I swept up three bin bags full of fallen leaves this afternoon from outside my work place. I want to ensure that the elderly and infirm visiting us don't slip on the sodden leaves that have carpeted the entrance. So it's quite nice to be able to benefit from a work task. I brought two of the bags home with me and can make some rich crumbly leaf mould from them. I can either empty the leaves out into a container or simply leave them in the bin bags. All I need do is punch a few holes into the bag and occasionally add some water to help break the leaves down. Next year I will be able to use this free resource as a top dressing in the borders. I like how work can benefit my play time. And no comments from passers by about me and a broom at Halloween!

The winter draws in.

 Above, the Mahonias are ready to burst into a shock of sunshine yellow.

 The long stems of the Japanese Anemones.

Orange and brown, typical autumnal colour and directly above, the cheery pink rosebuds show great promise.Tiny amethyst flowers of the geraniums against Powys Castle.

The ever changing old oak at the back of the garden. Rapidly losing it's leaves and turning skeletal but it will all be back again next year.

Ugly fruit.

Yes, these are tomatoes and not actual ugly fruit but I wanted to show you what Mother Nature has done to these very late tomatoes. The photograph above shows a variety of mouldy tomatoes - we shan't be eating these!

So, once we have thrown the tomatoe plants into the compost and emptied the compost bags the hens will have the entire greenhouse to bath in - not that it stops them now!

Revisiting Lola.

We visited our adopted hen, Lola today and could hear her before we even saw her. We armed ourselves with a banana and a small pot of yogurt that she always loved and as you can see by the photograph below with her white tipped beak,. she soon tucked in. It seems she is head of the pecking order. How nice it was to check her out for ourselves.

Night and day.

Depending on whether it is night or day, the narrow border at the front of the house takes on a different look. The white flowers will glow in the dark and the pink and purple will shine in the light.

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Mrs. Bun

How can a little chicken get in so much trouble? I heard some squeaky sound a week ago and realised it was Mrs Bun munching on the polystyrene tray that my violas came in!

Next up, she decides to fly to the top of the steamer chair only she hasn't quite got her balance and has to flap around for a while before she is settled. Silly chick.

Nuthatch, frozen bird baths and the last of the tomatoes

It's six am on a Sunday morning and still very dark outside. A thought has just occurred to me, the clocks may have gone back an hour and if so I am totally unaware of this. We are always forewarned of this twice yearly but as I don't tend to read the newspapers or watch TV I have no idea if British summer time has now ended. The outside conditions tell me it is no longer BST though. The leaves on the oak are rapidly drying out and their varying shades of amber and brown are the last colours they will be turning before they sail away on a brisk, nipping wind and tumble gracefully to the ground. Soon the mornings will be frosted with white and the trudge up to the hen houses will be noisy with ice snapping underfoot.
As for the chickens, they will be loath to venture out, preferring to stay cwtched up (Welsh for cuddled) on their warm bed of wood shavings. The bigger girls will stay huddled on the perch and will only appear when they are hungry. Winter is definitely on it's way.

I was working all day yesterday and missed out on the glorious sunshine that was inviting me to go and play in the garden but I have enjoyed seeing a lovely torpedo shaped female Nuthatch darting about close by the conservatory window earlier this week. I'm always delghted to spy the common but shy Jenny Wren or the camera-inviting Robin Redbreast and already I've seen one handsome Goldfinch that so delighted Luke the first time he ever saw one in our garden.
Whilst I mourn the passing of a frankly non existent summer there is still such a lot to be got from the seasons in Britain. I won't yearn for the slippery mornings or the biting cold that seems to pervade every part of my body, turning my fingertips numb and making my feet feel like ice blocks, Likewise I shan't be welcoming the icy road conditions or scraping the windscreen and then waiting for the condensation to clear before I can set off on a journey anywhere but whilst the roses lie dormant (a great time now to plant new rose stocks whilst they are not disturbed by the upheaval) the bulbs will soon be reawakening and, hidden from view, will begin to build up their stores and push upwards and eventually out into the light for next year's colour.

Today we are visiting family so there will be no gardening but I am longing to get my fingers dirty and my back aching again. A hard day's digging is pretty therapeutic even if it's tough going and standing back to admire the crumbly soil after it's been dug over is one of my secret (not so secret now) joys. The winter sky, bright blue with mere wisps of cloud, is always a delight to stare up at whilst I am stretching my back out when it locks up. A steaming hot cup of tea to wrap your hands around and feel the warmth seeping back in is another simple pleasure. Having the 'ladies' around my feet, looking for any fat worms I may have unearthed with my digging always makes me chuckle too. They are so industrious and when we both spot a wriggling body in the clod of soil I have just dug it's a race to see who can get to it first. Me, to hide it back safely underground or the hens to make a tasty meal of it.
Last night Luke picked me up from work and had difficulty getting the two littlest back into their run so ended up shutting them into the safety of the greenhouse. When we arrived home at dusk they had already perched, high up on the metal framework, in amongst the tomato plants. We quickly hooked up a chicken each, much to their obvious and noisy displeasure, and popped them deftly back into their hen house. Much happier to be back in their dark and comfortable sanctuary they immediately stopped their protestations and, peeking through the window of their house, we could see them snuggled up together ready for a good night's sleep.
Oh to be a chicken in our little flock.



Talking of the tomatoes. it's now obvious that we won't be getting any more ripening and the ones that have started ripening have now split their skins and have an edging of mould running along the split. They look like they have fur lined bomber jackets on. We will have to consign the plants to the compost bin but at least I saved a few last ones to freeze for stews later in the year. Luke is thrilled that finally we had success with our greenhouse tomatoes and I hope this means that next year we will have rows of dark green bushes with fat red globes hanging off them. Yum.

Still some colour in the garden. A rose, violas, cyclamen and heathers.

Alone.

Luke is working today so I contacted a few family members to see if I could visit them but they already have plans so I'm on my own - well, with my girls and my laptop. Looking out at the morning sky I see it's a beautiful crisp and sunny morning. The wisps of cloud fade at their edges into the merest of blue sky; like a watercolour washed out for subtlety.The rust coloured leaves on the aged oak are glowing in the sun and soon they will all have tumbled to the earth, leaving only the bare branches silhouetted against a winter sky. I used to dread this time of year - long dark days and plenty of rain for months to come but nowadays I see the beauty of an Autumnal day. A robin flies onto the fence and it's breaast looks russet in the daylight, the wrens make a huge racket, hidden in the hedge and I feel almost obliged to do a 'Julie Andrews' and run, arms outsretched, over the hills singing loudly. Bit wet for that though so I will enjoy the morning from the warmth of the house.

Sunset

A lovely sunset ends the working week.

Frosty morns.

The neighbour's summerhouse has a roof that looks like it is smoking with this steamy haze in the morning light.

Only last month...,

.., Luke and I walked across the fields and down to the stream. With the sun shining though and the abandoned shopping trolley out of the picture it looked, and indeed it was, very tranquil.

Mr Frosty comes to visit.

A mere 36 hours ago I was remarking to my Mum that it seemed unbelievable, whilst sitting in the light, bright conservatory and being warmed by the late afternoon sun's rays, that winter was on it's way. We've all got used this year to rain one moment and sun (well, not much sun) the next but it always seems hard to fathom that we can have such a wide variety of weather in such a short space of time. Yesterday we had a warm and sunny morning which continued some way into the afternoon before the temperature dropped suddenly and we had hailstones and rain. The older chickens huddled inside the greenhouse and spent their time waiting for the skies to brighten up by  indulging in dust baths but the newest additions to our brood haven't discovered the joys of the greenhouse yet so they took shelter under the canopy of the raspberries.
I had to race up the garden to rescue the washing I had hoped would dry, especially as I had another load to go out on the line. Socks, the cat from next door, came bounding into the house to shelter and within moments the scene had changed from a busy garden with blue skies and puffy clouds to not a soul to be seen and a mass of threatening grey along with fat globules of rain and hail.
This morning I woke early (always annoying when it's a Sunday and we don't have to get up) and after an hour lazing in bed I pulled on a dressing gown so I could open up the hens. We normally open their pop hole and let them out between 7.00 and 7.20 so they were already chirping in their house when I trudged up the garden. It's been such a long time that I had forgotten how hard it is to slide open the bolts when they've been stuck fast by a frost. So, here we are; summer (such as it was) is over and Autumn is not the balmy swansong of a lovely year as it has been before. Now we have to treasure our sunshiney days as we head into the season where swirling leaves herald the coming of winter and the squirrel continues it's storage of food for the barren months ahead.
A lone buzzard flew over the rooftop yesterday and the crows perched noisily on the chimney pots. I searched for a tiny egg that Mrs Bun almost certainly laid somewhere in the garden but only turned up smooth oval pebbles. We may find it in weeks to come.
Yesterday I had a joyous time weeding the vegetable patch. All the corn was pulled up; the chickens saw to it that we never had a meal from it. The beans have been very sparse but I picked a few that hung limply from the swirling stems and we will eat these with our Sunday lamb dinner today. I did find three little overlooked potatoes in the ground and also dug up the small heads of garlic that I planted for harvest this year. I've kept a few but will plant up the individual cloves for next year as they have strong roots on each one. Hen keepers advise placing garlic in the water for healthy hens but I've never done it. Apart from our old hen, Buckster, who is currently moulting and looks particularly scraggy the others seems to be in the best of health. Oh, to be be young and fit once more.

Alien life force.

I love these large spidery roots. Just one or two in a fake spider's web should scare the most persistent of trick or treaters away. In fact they are Eremurus bulbs.

Happy to be ankle deep in mud.

What a marvellous day; sunshine (till the inevitable rain showers and hailstones arrived), blue skies and white fluffy marshmallows for clouds. This meant only one thing. I had to escape the housework and get out into my garden. What a joy.
Because it has been so wet this year I've decide to move the little chickens' run and house so it is easier to access. With it being in the middle of the vegetable patch it means I have trodden down the soil I spent an hour or so turning over about a month ago. This has resulted in little craters and man made pools where heavy footsteps have created impressions in the soil that have filled up with rain water. Luke found a toad in one last night, right in the bed where the peas should have been. So today the 'babies' had a change of scenery and now live at the front of the veg patch, with easy access and a deep carpet of hipped bark.
Actually it all tied in well with my happy hour of weeding and digging up the forlorn sweet corn that the hens decimated.

We are not going to get fat on this egg.

It is not a lot bigger than our plum tomatoes but we are grateful for all small mercies.

York in the sun.

The gardens near to York minster and within the walls of the city. This bed is enormous and in front of it is a lovely large weeping pear that puts my little one to shame.

 Then next to the cathedral  is a lovely old building with a bed of old gold roses fronting it up. Beautiful.

What a fantastic sight, the towering entrance of York minster. The largest Gothic cathedral in Northern Europe.

Winter welcome.

I am hoping that the forty pounds I've just spent for the 45 X 120 cm space by the front door will see us through the long winter months I've bought five ornamental kale (cabbage), two white, two light purple and one deep purple. To intersperse with these I have two leggy, pink flowered thrifts, one fine stemmed ornamental grass and three elegant cyclamen in white and pink. I wanted to throw a little colour in for contrast but try as I might I couldn't find anything I was happy with apart from some lovely plum blushed wallflowers and at seven pounds a pot I couldn't justify them.
This is a current theme with me. I want the complete picture but I can't justify the expense so always compromise with almost there. To be fair, there's enough there to create a cheerful space but I know it would have had more impact with a taller backdrop of either bushy wallflowers or more bronze or dark green ornamental germs and grasses. Still, I'm happy enough and today's purchases will provide me with an hour or two of gardening pleasure so I'll factor that into the cost. Luke's father is visiting so he bought all the sale plants (he's cheaper than i am) but yet again we have almost filled the boot of the car.

Saturday skies

Last week I was giving a talk in the old library and just as I stepped into the building a plane flew high overhead. Yesterday I was lucky enough to have a day off and again looked up into a crisp cobalt sky, this time the blue was contrasted by the big, lime-coloured leaves in the park. In thw afternoon we enjoyed a walk over Cardiff barrage.

Harvest time.

Okay so we've enjoyed the raspberries (but not as much as the chickens have) and we had a few meals from our spuds but what with rain, little sunshine or warmth and hungry hens helping themselves, we have not enjoyed a glut of anything. But the tomatoes have finally come good, much to my relief. I've been concerned that if they failed for the third year running Luke would throw in the towel and call it a day growing vegetables. How relieved I am that this summer they have fruited and ripened and glowed their rosy little globes through the glass of the greenhouse, like cheery faces peering out at the world of course the chickens have loved these too but thankfully can't reach high enough to pluck them from their curvy vines.
The aubergines haven't done so well being closer to the ground and chicken's beaks. As this summer has been a wash out we have allowed the chickens daily access to the greenhouse so they can have a nice dry dust bath in the soil. They of course have taken advantage of this to vary their diet with the growing veg but we do eventually benefit with golden yolks in their teeny eggs.
Here is our sparse contribution to the Harvest festival