Oh, My Days!

 It’s the Summer Solstice. Time to celebrate our blessings, and the bounty and growth in all aspects of life of this year so far… Flowers… Fruits… Vegetables… The beautiful English countryside… And a wild eyed cat who is keeping himself cool, calm and shaded during this heat wave… There will be Solstice celebrations happening today at Damson Cottage. There may be thunderstorms later this afternoon as the heat peaks and breaks, which will add a frisson of excitement to proceedings.  I was up with the sun this morning. Bare foot in the grass, a breeze jostling the aspen leaves, wrens pipping in the hedges. I wrote in my diary, and I thought of the past year and the year to come. Where I’ve come from and where I am going. Wishes and dreams. Achievements and hopes. Gains and losses. Things to maintain. Things to release. Mostly, I thought how lucky I am to have lived all my life so far in peace-time. Long may it continue. I know others are not so fortunate. Here’s to the warmth, t...

 I’ve always though that raspberries are too good a fruit to waste on making into jam BUT with yesterday’s picking coming in at a smidge over 4 lbs, I am going wild today and making some raspberry jam. There is no way Lord Malarkey and I can keep up with eating them, not without any digestive upsets anyway, and there are still masses to come that I can put in the freezer for raspberry delights during the Winter months, so jam it is for this bowl.  The raspberries are having a triumphant year! Blackcurrants, blackberries, plums and apples are looking to follow suit. The rhubarb is struggling - again - and I am wondering if I might lift the crowns in Autumn and relocate them. Mr and Mrs Swallow have been tidying up their nest ready for Brood Number Two. Their babies are fledged and flying well now, disappearing on their adventures for most of the day. Maybe they are looking for new homes for themselves to return to next year?  The shepherd’s hut build has been confirmed for...

  It looks like five of the six eggs have hatched. I managed to snap this photo an hour ago of five baby swallows fledged and ready to face the world. I’ve seen two of them - the largest of the five - out on a test flight with their parents, which was very brave of them given how buffetty it is today. The weather bodes warm and dry this coming week so I expect they’ll all be out testing their wings and making my use of the washing machine an extreme sport.  We are expecting more rain today. It hasn’t been as hefty as forecast (protection from the Cheshire Gap, I expect) but it’s not a day to be outside very much. Nell and I have enjoyed an extensive walk along the canal in town and now I have a date with some writing, some studying and a bit of fiction reading. I’m scooting through a Kate Atkinson novel at the moment, called ‘Emotionally Weird.’ It is HILARIOUS - beautifully nuanced on the character observation front and I have emitted many snorts and mini-guffaws thus far. Ka...

  Some of the baby swallows, looking VERY cross, getting ready for take off this morning. ‘Hello babies!’ said I cheerfully, as I popped into the laundry to fetch some sunflower seeds for the bird table. The expanding gang of fledging tits (blue and great) and finches (green, gold and chaff) have taken to waiting, very noisily, in the wisteria for their breakfast. I bought a bag of peanuts to go with the sunflower seeds and am bashing them into pieces with my rolling pin because I am concerned the babies will choke if they get hold of a whole one. Yes, I know they have sharp, point beaks and are probably more than capable of stabbing a peanut to pieces themselves, but even so. Honestly, my life is being held hostage by baby birds at the moment.  The very cross baby swallows eyed me suspiciously and sat very still, with a ‘You ain’t seen me, right?’attitude. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I CAN see you and I’ve taken a couple of photos. So there!’ How do you know the strawberries are properl...

 At 2.45 a.m, a small wet and ginger snout pushed itself into my sleeping face, and an enthusiastic ginger tail beat a frantic tattoo against my recumbent legs. Nell rarely comes upstairs during the night, preferring to scooch up in her favourite corner on one of the sofas. If she does come upstairs it generally means she needs to do a poo and could SOMEONE please come downstairs and let her out NOW - that someone being me.  I slid out of bed, pulled on my dressing gown and wandered downstairs, trying all the while to not open my eyes too much. Opened the back door. Nell shot out and up the garden and I followed because I wanted to make sure she did actually want to do a poo, and she wasn’t just waking me up in the wee small hours for larks ‘n’ fun. If it was just larks ‘n’ fun then it was not a habit to be encouraged and she and I would be having a serious talk, possibly about adoption. It was very still outside. It smelled of a fresh rain shower and the recent winds had drop...