The Hen-wife's Tale

. . . Chanticleer Cheep stood high upon his toes, 

Stretching his neck, and both his eyes did close, 

And so did crow right loudly, for the nonce; 

And Russel Fox, he started up at once, 

And by the gorget grabbed our Chanticleer Cheep, 

Flung him on back, and toward the wood did steer . . .

This simple widow and her daughters two We

heard these hens cry and make so great ado, 

And out of doors they started on the run 

And saw the fox into the grove just gone, 

Bearing upon his back the cock away. 

And then they cried, "Alas, and weladay! 

Oh, oh, the fox!" and after him they ran.

This cock, which lay across the fox's back, 

In all his fear unto the fox did clack 

And say: "Sir, were I you, as I should be, 

Then would I say (as God may now help me!), 

'Turn back again, presumptuous peasants all! 

A very pestilence upon you fall! 

Now that I've gained here to this dark wood's side, 

In spite of you this cock shall here abide. 

I'll eat him, by my faith, and that anon!'" 

The fox replied: "In faith, it shall be done!" 

And as he spoke that word, all suddenly 

This cock broke from his mouth, full cleverly.

And that (with apologies to Geoffrey Chaucer) is more or less what happened on Monday evening when Cheep was grabbed by a fox and miraculously escaped with a scratch and rather less feathers than he had earlier in the day.

Unfortunately our relief at Cheep's miraculous escape from the jaws of death, turned to sadness when, on Wednesday, I discovered that Bryony was missing . . . presumed taken to be Russel Fox's supper.

Of the three new pullets we got last October, I think Bryony was my favourite. She was bossy and annoying (especially when she spent three weeks insisting she was broody!)

We will miss her, I think Cheep misses her, and this weekend for the last time we will enjoy her final beautiful dark brown egg.

Celia

xx

How do you select a holiday destination?

Do you visit the same holiday destination over an over again? Or, do you prefer to visit a different places? And how to you choose where to go?

Earlier this year Cliff and I saw a small exhibition at the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology in Cambridge, it was about ancient carvings on rocks . . . some were 8000 years old! The exhibition PITOTI "explored the links between the world of archaeology and the world of film, digital humanities and computer vision". What was fascinating was the use of 3D printing to recreate the carving as models you could pick up and handle . . . something I'm sure will be much used in in museum displays in the future.

We found out the carvings are found in the Val Camonica, in Lombardy in northern Italy extending north from Lake Iseo (which is one of the Italian lakes near Como and Garda, but you probably haven't heard of it because it seems that the Italians want to keep it all to themselves!)

Last week we flew to Italy for a holiday, we stayed in Iseo and had a stunning view of Lake Iseo from our room. It was only a short walk to the railway station to catch a train up the valley to Capo di Ponte, the town nearest to a large number of the rock carvings.

I'd be lying if I said we joined the hundreds of other visitors to the Archaeological sights . . . in fact we may have been the only visitors that day! But there were some information boards and signs pointing the way up the hill outside the town.

We found a fenced off area with large boulders in a grassy area at the foot of a cliff . . . the boulders were covered with carvings!

Nearby we spotted a small museum full of photos and casts of most of the significant carvings; there were also some fascinating reconstructions of tools and cutting and carving methods. I think the person who showed us the exhibits was the museum founder, Dr Ausilio Priuli.

We were recommended to walk further up the hill to another park where there were many more carvings on the exposed rock faces.

Some carvings were easy to spot, others were subtle and indistinct; but it was a beautiful place and the rocks were surrounded by beautiful mountain wildflowers and trees.

The views were stunning!

We had a lovely relaxing week in Iseo – catching trains, boats and buses to explore the nearby towns and villages. I'd forgotten just how beautiful Italy is!

I bought vegetable seeds and had a pistachio ice-cream . . . that equals a perfect holiday for me!

Yes it rained at bit, but even the storms are picturesque when it's warm enough to sit outside with your shoes off!

Back home, I'm paddling madly to catch up with work. Fingers crossed the weather warms up this weekend so I can sow those vegetable seeds :-)

But right now I'm going to snuggle up on the sofa with a hot drink and a piece of Amaretto chocolate.

Ciao!

Celia xx

Laughter really is a good tonic

On Saturday we went to Wembley . . . no, not to the Cup Final . . . the Arena, to see the Eddie Izzard gig 'Force Mageure'.

We had a great time (I ached a bit from laughing at the bit about dressage being useful for reversing a horse into a cupboard) and it makes quite a change to be in a massive arena full of thousands of people.

After the show we walked the short distance back to the hotel, had a beer and fell asleep . . . So much better than driving all the way back to Suffolk. This morning we decided to find somewhere to explore before heading home, so we went to Hampstead and after a lovely breakfast we went to Fenton House . . . and it turned out to be a wonderful surprise! I think it may be my idea of a perfect garden, because there were all the things I like most . . .

 a lovely lean-to greenhouse, 

lots of seats and lovely secret corners 

beautiful but simple topiary

an orchard with wild flowers in the grass under the trees

a walled veg plot with perfectly trained fruit trees

and a very tame robin

Who would have thought you could be in such a beautiful tranquil garden, but still see the sky scrapers of central London from 4th floor balcony?!

The rooms in Fenton House are full of the most delightful treasures . . . 18th century ceramics, embroideries of the most amazing detail and some lovely paintings. Everything was so charmingly displayed; I think I could happily spend a whole day in each room looking at all the things in detail.

I came away with my relaxed mind buzzing with ideas!

Celia

x

PPP now means Pigeon Proof Pen

Hello! I've had an enforced break from blogging (reason: illusive cable snappage = no broadband) but I'm back and I'd like to welcome anyone who has found Purple Podded Peas via this lovely recommendation by that very nice chap Ryan in a rather good magazine called The Edible Garden (I'm not a huge reader of gardening mags, but this one is full of very interesting stuff).

So, what's all this about Purple Podded Peas? Regular visitors to my blog will know that I ramble on about all sorts of things, including our garden; but the peas haven't played a major role for the past couple of years mainly do to the ****ing pigeons. Now, I don't usually swear and I hardly ever cry, but the ****ing pigeons have made me do both over the past two or three growing seasons. I used to be able to grow tall wigwams of beautiful heritage peas with just a few pigeon-distraction measures in the early stages of growth. THEN (I can feel myself getting angry and upset just remembering this) the ****ing pigeons used nasty tactics; they waited until my peas were tall and covered with beautiful flowers and tiny pods and in a dawn raid they demolished the lot!

Something had to be done.

a) I could give up growing peas (I have saved seeds of over a dozen heritage varieties, most with purple pods) – that's not going to happen

b) I could buy an air gun, learn how to use it and live on pigeon breast terrine – I seriously considered this option

c) I could install a 'fruit cage' – previously ruled out due to huge expense

Earlier this year I noticed a tiny advert in a national newspaper: Henry Cowles - netting made in Britain since 1889, could they supply the solution at a price I could afford? . . . yes they could! AND what's more, the cage is made to measure so it perfectly fits over two of the raised beds in our vegetable garden :-)

The cage arrived . . . and it had to be constructed. Luckily I have a very tall person who was up to the task :-) 

The Pigeon Proof Pen (as it will now be called) has made me deliriously happy . . . for the price of one designer shoe my peas can grow, safe in the knowledge that the squadron of elite attack pigeons cannot harm them :-)

I start the peas in large deep pots in the greenhouse, when they are a few inches tall and with good roots, I plant then out around wigwams made of canes (home harvested form a giant miscanthus grass) and twiggy sticks (prunings from the garden shrubs)

One half of the Pigeon Proof Pen is now planted with five wigwams: Shiraz Purple Podded Mangetout, Tutankhamun, Curruther's Purple Podded, Robinson and Salmon Flowered.

The wigwams will be interplanted with various varieties of lettuce and brassicas.

Thanks to the Pigeon Proof Pen, the Purple Podded Peas have returned to the PPPs Blog!

Celia
xx

April evening on the South Bank

After a morning working hard putting the netting on the "pea cage" (I'll tell you more of that another day) we drove down to London . . .

We walked past the shiny new Shard that slices into the sky (as you look at this, imagine the bells of Southark Cathedral pealing out in the background)

We strolled along the Jubilee Walk and past the bridges

We ate ice creams leaning on balcony of the Royal Festival Hall and watched the people below walking in the evening sunshine

We took our seats for the concert (Verdi's Requiem conducted by Daniele Gatti)

After the concert we looked at the twinkling lights on the river.

Primula Overture

Primula, its name tells us that it is 'the first', the first to flower in Spring; never has this been more true than than in this year's long awaited Spring. The icy wind from the North Sea was replaced by the warm South-Westerly and the Primroses in our garden rejoiced!

The Brimstone and Comma Butterflies danced over the carpet of Primroses and Violets, a few bees joined in too . . . I wonder what kind of been this is? I love its ginger fur.
btw Twitter has helped me ID this bee as a Common Carder Bumblebee, most likely a young Queen who had survived the winter and will now start a new colony . . . isn't that wonderful!

A few years ago I planted lots of Victorian Polyanthus that I'd grown from seed, these have hybridised with the wild Primroses, at first I thought of weeding out the coloured primroses but there are so many, so we let them mingle.

Last year I was visiting a local 'open garden' when I spotted two little Auricula plants that were left on a plant stall, so I bought them. When they flowered I discovered one pot had two different plants in it, so I carefully potted them up separately. I was now hooked, Auriculas have that effect on people. They are related to Primroses and Polyanthus, but they need a bit more tlc . . . never too hot and not too cold; not too dry but never too wet. If you treat them right they reward you with exquisite flowers . . . like this

I bought three more Auriclas this year, mine are 'just' Garden Auriculas, not the special named varieties, I could plant them in the garden but I think they look more special grown individually in old terracotta pots. I'll divide them to make more plants when this year's flowers have faded - and so I know which plant is which I've given them names. More photos of my small collection here on Pinterest.

Auriculas seem to be the flower of the moment, I wonder why? The history of Auriculas in England is closely linked to the Huguenot silk weavers and it is this story which is told in a beautiful collection of songs, the Auricula Suite I discovered this in a chance conversation with one of my customers - she is one of the musicians.
There is more about Auriculas and the Huguenots on the Spitalfield Life blog, including pictures of a rather lovely Auricula Theatre made from one of those wooden arbour seats that you see for sale in garden centres – now that's a clever idea!

Celia
xx

Happy Easter!

Crepuscular spectacular

Yesterday I really felt that a corner had been turned, the wind was still chilly but on the branches leaf-buds are breaking and in the village churchyard the grass is full of newly germinated Sycamore seedlings . . . signs that nature is on the move.

Late in the afternoon the sun cast a warm glow across our garden, so we decided to go for a walk; we chose one of our favourite routes skirting a large wood, snow still lay in the shadow of the ditches.

It didn't take long before we spotted others enjoying the last rays of afternoon sunshine – a hare basks with his nose facing west towards the setting sun.

 

Hares are difficult to photograph at the best of times, but I managed to zoom in on this one – aren't its ears beautiful?!

And there goes another . . . racing along the skyline!

It was that time of evening when the deer come out of the woods to graze in the fields – a magnificent Fallow buck followed by three hinds.

In the fading light and against the brown fields they were difficult to see, let alone photograph. This group of female Fallow deer were on the other side of a tall hedge, I managed to find a gap through which to get a good view – they had spotted me!

You can clearly see the colour variation in the herd; the classic fawn and brown, and the very dark almost black 'melanic' variation.

The sky in the west was glowing brightly and we new we were in for a good sunset . . .

. . . gold . . .

 and then an extraordinary flare of colour – a Sun Pillar

Sun or Solar Pillars are the result of the Sun's rays being reflected and refracted by millions of ice crystals in the atmosphere.

You can read more about the hows and whys of Sun Pillars here.

A crepuscular spectacular! We couldn't have hope for more.


Celia
x


 

How to make an Easter Garden

I'll quickly mention the weather and then move on. Spring? well, it nearly happened for an afternoon at the end of February, but since then we've been plunged back into the grips of winter – the coldest March for 50 years. As the winds bringing the Arctic chill are nor-easterlies, that mean that here in East Anglia we're on the front line and although we haven't had as much snow fall, it is the bone numbing wind-chill that has prevented any progress in the vegetable and cut flower gardens.

It's unbelievable, but this weekend is Easter. And it was while I was longing to spend time enjoying spring flowers, that I remembered my favourite thing about Easter when I was very young . . . no, it wasn't the chocolate eggs or egg hunts or the Easter bunny . . . what I loved doing was helping my Gran constuct an Easter Garden in the village church.

Then I thought, why not make a mini version!
Here's how –


You will need: a tray, small rocks and some pebbles, some small low containers (jars and lids would do); sand or grit.

 Put the pebbles in the containers and fill them with water; arrange them and the rocks on your tray.

Collect some moss . . .

. . . and arrange it among the containers and rocks; make a path with the sand or grit, winding through the garden.

Now you need some twigs to make trees . . .

. . . find some with the leaves and blossom about to open and they will bloom for Easter.

Add some leaves, pushing the stalks among the pebbles in the containers, so they stay in place.

And now, add the flowers  – as I was doing this I remembered that the best thing about helping Gran make the Easter Garden, was visiting Aunt May's garden and being allowed to pick any of the beautiful Spring flowers that grew under the trees around her little wooden bungalow.

My Gran's Easter Garden was used to tell the Easter story and was complete with a rocky tomb and some lovely figures of the disciples, Mary Magdalene and Jesus, and (my favourite) a beautiful serene angel to sit inside the empty tomb on Easter Sunday morning. But, it would look beautiful with little foil covered eggs hiding among the flowers and an Easter Bunny.
 
A little gardening fix, while we wait for Spring to arrive . . .

Happy Easter! 

Celia

x