Oh, My Days!

 Announcement! The first swallow of the year appeared above the skies of Damson Cottage on Friday! I spent the whole day gardening and at 10 a.m I heard a familiar trilling, looked up, and there it was - swooping above me, and I am SURE it was saying, ‘Hello! I am returned!’ Of course, I greeted it with equal and great enthusiasm.  ‘Hello, swallow! How wonderful to see you. Congratulations on arriving safely home!’  I wondered if the swallow was one of the parents from last year, or one of the nine babies. Anyway, it’s been hanging around the house, perching on the TV aerial and singing away, waiting patiently for the return of more of its family before the ‘Battle For Laundry Nest Ownership’ begins in earnest. I feel very joyful at its return and am looking forward to hosting many angry baby swallows as the season progresses. The gourmet mushrooms are progressing at great speed, too. Here is the Status of Mushroom this fine and dandy Sunday morning: My brother wanted to ...

 I started my gourmet mushroom growing adventure (!) on Monday and have been carefully following the instructions, which basically means misting the substrate three times a day using my little Victoriana-style spray mister thingummybob. The kit is sited on the kitchen window sill which was the best place I could think of that offered good daylight but not direct sunlight.  Anyway, just as I was getting to the end of Day Four in the Big Mushroom House, and wondering if anything was going to happen, and if I was going to be the first person EVER to murder a gourmet mushroom crop before it had even got started, I spied this: A baby mushroom!! I can’t tell you how excited I was, but then today has been pretty non-eventful. I did move the bed this morning to vacuum underneath and tried not to look at the remains of a very large spider which may or may not have crawled over me whilst I slept. Instead, I gave thanks that Bambino Bobble Wilson was fulfilling his Chief Spider Assassin ...

 Mother’s Day has, in the past, been a bit of a bitter-sweet day for me but yesterday was very good indeed. I received this beautiful card from my daughter. She’d written a message inside which made me feel quite overwhelmed with love for her. She also gave me one of my favourite ‘witchy’ scented candles and a jigsaw puzzle of an art work which is right up my street - one of those puzzles that, when it is complete, is worthy of framing for display.  We spent a gloriously warm and sunny day in the Peak District at a stately home which was hosting an arts and crafts fayre. The journey outwards was very scenic - lots of winding roads with hair pin bends that crossed vast swathes of moorland as we travelled higher into the vertiginous Peaks themselves. I have to admit the end of the journey left me feeling somewhat travel sick, what with all the lumpy bumping, twisty turning and looking out of the window and seeing the countryside dropping away steeply to certain death. I have nig...

 This afternoon, I made myself mow the rest of the acreage on the Damson Cottage estate. I would much rather have settled with a book under a tree for a spot of lovely reading, but the grass shall not be allowed to become unmanageable this year, especially as March has been kind enough to grant us some lovely dry and sunny weather to gain a head start on all things horticultural.  As I passed the rhubarb bed (rhubarb currently about six inches tall) I noticed these two having a high old time on the side of one of the dumpy bags I used to store leaf mulch: There was a lot of enthusiastic bumpy lurve action occurring. And that’s fine because the ladybird is the gardener’s friend for keeping aphids at bay, so the more the merrier, that’s what I say. Anyway, I set about mowing and clearing up Winter debris, and every time I passed the dumpy bag, they were still at it. I spent some time in the top corner of the garden, moving the pile of logs that constituted our ‘wildlife’ patch, ...

  I PROMISED myself that I wasn’t going to have any more stupid ideas. I was VERY firm on this promise. And yet sometimes other situations prove to be MORE stupid and one is forced to renege on one’s promise and set about implementing an idea that causes one’s buttocks to feel VERY tight at the end of the day.  This morning, all began well. I saw the first hare of the season. Out in the field it was, quite close to Vladimir Poo Tin, our septic tank. What a wonderful sight! (The hare, not Vladimir.) Reader, I emitted a girly squeal when I saw it which quite discombobulated Nell. The hare was having a high old time running around and I watched it for a while until it ran into the hedge. I sent it a little blessing of protection that it didn’t become squished on the road, and that its babies were many and healthy.  And then, buoyed up with endorphins from seeing The Hare of Joy, I thought, ‘Right, I am going to tackle a tech problem.’ Rolled up my sleeves, put determined loo...

  I tried watching Comic Relief on TV last night but it all got a bit LOUD and SHOUTY for me, so I sort of zoned out, choosing instead to read and do word puzzles instead, which was far more beneficial for my brain than watching a bunch of over-paid presenters screeching at each other and the audience who were screeching back. I enjoyed the comedy skits based on Strictly Come Dancing and the Oasis reunion, and the mash up of Death in Paradise and Not Going Out, but that was all, and when Davina McCall started crying, I switched off.  Comic Relief never used to be like this, I thought. I'm sure it used to be more witty and gentle. It's been going for 40 years now so perhaps my tolerance for noise is weakening as I age. The Comic Relief modus operandii seems to be 'The LOUDER we SHOUT, the MORE money the public will donate.' They are wrong. Softly, softly is the best persuasive approach. But life in general seems too loud and full on now. It's not for me. This morning...