I am so much enjoying cycling at the minute. Nothing epic, just a few miles up and down one of the railway trails, either first thing in the morning, or at tea time. Six, eight miles, I don't think I've gone further than ten at all this year, so it's never a long ride, but it's enough to move my legs, get a bit of fresh air, see the flowers. I keep taking photographs and they're all kind of the same, but the sky changes, and the flowers change, and I like to look back on this landscape and remember each ride and what I was listening to at the time. I wanted to venture off the trail and cycle to a local cafe while I was off, but I've not managed it this time so that will have to wait for later in the summer. In the meantime I'll just keep cycling up and down these trails, before breakfast or after tea, when it's quiet.
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It's that time of year again. The meadow has gone from green, to yellow, to brown, and the farmers are out with their tractors taking advantage of a nice couple of days to make silage. We're making hay, not silage (hay is dried grass, silage is grass that has been fermented to use as animal feed - it's easier to make around here I believe because the weather is so unpredictable and silage doesn't need the longer window of dry weather). We don't have animals to feed though (not ones that will eat silage, anyway), so hay it is. Or not. I made a start, but it was feeling pretty hard going, more like I was hacking away at the grass than a smooth swishing motion that scything should be. I finally got round to buying this excellent 'learn to scythe' course from Beth Tilston (who I see won a scything competition while she was eight months pregnant, so I assume knows her stuff). I wasn't doing too badly, but I've made some adjustments to how my scythe is set up, and how I sharpen it, and it turns out it very likely needs peening. I was vaguely aware of peening, and was hoping it was something I could get away without doing, but apparently not. It's the process of hammering the cutting edge of the blade, and it looks from this informative link like it would have been a lot easier had I been doing it from the beginning... Hey ho. I've ordered a peening jig (which is apparently easier than using a hammer and anvil), and will give it a go when it arrives. In the meantime, it seems I'm going to have to make a peening log or a peening pony. Does the list of things to do never end? While I was in meadow mode, I started hunting for some yellow rattle. This is an excellent plant if you have a hay meadow to restore (which I do), as it is parasitic on grass, so goes some way to lessening the strength of some of the stronger grasses, allowing more space for wild flowers. There's some useful information about it in this link from Magnificent Meadows. We have some yellow rattle, but only in small patches throughout the meadow, and I wanted to collect some seed and spread it around a bit. It's quite difficult to spot until you get your eye in. The flowers are unobtrusive, and it's easiest to look for a space where the grass is a little more sparse. After a few minutes of wandering up and down the field, I found some. Some of the seed pods had dried and were doing their characteristic rattle, but many of the plants were still flowering, and I could see why you're advised not to cut the grass until at least mid July if you want to increase wildflowers. I collected some of the dried seed, and once I've cut the grass, I'll rake out some areas of soil and spread the seeds around a bit. I did have another attempt at hay making in a different area of the field, but I was only removing the dried bits of grass, and the rest of the grass was just being flattened rather than cut. Definitely a good idea to wait for the peening jig. There's plenty going on in the meadow still though, and leaving it a bit longer will allow more of the wild flowers to set seed. I'm enjoying the process of learning about and managing our meadow. It's quite a steep learning curve for me - before the last couple of years I'm not sure I could have identified anything beyond clover and 'grass' in this field, but I'm getting there. We've got far too much of some things it would be better to have less of... And not quite enough of some things it would be good to have more of... There are several stages to restoring a meadow - and of course it all depends on what you have in there in the first place. We have enough of the good stuff that it's not worth scraping the top soil off and resowing (fortunately). Instead, each year I'll wait for late July or August to cut, leave the dried grass for a few days so the seeds can drop, then remove the hay to remove some of the fertility from the soil, which should gradually make conditions worse for the strong grasses and better for the wildflowers.
Then the neighbouring cows get let in to grass the aftermath (the grass that grows back after it's been cut). I'm sure others would do it a different way. We don't have our own animals, so can't follow an ideal grazing pattern that some do. Some people do an extra cut early in the spring, but spring for me tends to be a time of early commutes and dark evenings, so that's not particularly convenient here. So instead I'll cut once, remove as much hay as I can, and each year sow more and more yellow rattle. We'll see. Goodness me I'm tired. I'm having a week off work at the minute, and I already feel like I need another week off to recover. I don't think I've been so busy for a long time. I started the week with a trip to see my sister's new house, and to walk along the beach with my mum. I think this is the first time I've seen the sea for a year. So nice to see them all, and a lovely day, but more driving than I've done in months. After all that sitting down, Sunday felt like the time for a walk, and the sun was shining, so I donned my sandals and walked to our favourite cafe. It's only just over four miles, so it feels absurd that it was so tiring. The first half was on footpaths and tracks, but the second half was all on the road. It was lovely to be able to stop and photograph the scenery that I so often drive past, but crossing and re-crossing the road to avoid blind bends, and hopping on and off the verge to avoid cars passing too close, did get rather tiresome, and I'm not sure this is a walk I'll be doing too often, despite the views. I met Peter at the cafe, so fortunately I didn't have to walk home as well. I spent most of the rest of the afternoon out in the garden, strimming the grass. I have a love/hate relationship with strimming. Ideally, I'd manage all of the grass in the garden with a combination of the scythe and the push along lawnmower, and most of the year I do this. However, neither of those things is really suitable (in my hands at least) for the narrow strip of verge down the sides of the drive. The pushalong lawnmower doesn't deal well with the bumpy ground that is everywhere other than the small front garden, and the scythe is in need of peening (of which more later) so isn't at its most effective right now. So I braved the strimmer, after a small tantrum while I tried to remember how to start the damn thing. Eventually we came to an uneasy truce, and after three or four hours with headphones and visor on, audio book playing in my ear, I was pretty pleased with the results. I'm not one for a super tidy garden - good job really as I have neither the time to keep properly on top of ours, nor the money to pay someone else to. I quite like a bit of long grass, and don't really cut beyond a small bit of lawn that we use for picnics for most of the year. But after my (so far) annual attack with the strimmer, everything does seem rather calmer and a lot bigger. There was a reason for all my strimming - a friend arrived on Monday afternoon to camp with her family. They'd been planning to go to a campsite, but for various reasons had decided they weren't happy with communal facilities, so I'd offered a spot at the end of our garden. We have a separate toilet and sink, and plenty of space, and of course our deluxe outdoor shelter which got plenty of use, especially in the evening. They left on Wednesday, and there was just enough time to sanitise the spare loo before our next guest arrived (just one this time, and just for a short visit). Today I popped to meet a friend for ice cream outside another cafe, and now one of Peter's friends is here (I'm hiding while they talk about guitars).
I had all kinds of plans for this week. Some things I've done (mostly the ones that involve other people), but others I've not even started. Right now I don't have any appointments tomorrow, and it looks like the rain will have stopped by then, so I might have a day of garden pottering. The list of jobs is getting longer and longer, and I only have another three days off work. No jobs tonight though - I'm anticipating another evening in the outdoor shelter watching the sun set over the hills. I confess these 20 in 2020 updates are starting to feel a little tiresome, with so many things that I put on the list at the start of the year that have so far been impossible. So I'm going to rattle through this list without lingering too much on what hasn't been done. 20 things mended (7/20) I'm starting to wonder why I even put this on the list. I mean, I like mending things, and mending rather than throwing away is good, but I haven't needed to mend that many things because not that many things have broken... No more this month. 19 letters written (7/19) 18 days without internet (2/18) No more progress on either of these in June. 17 books read (DONE) I met this target in March, and in June I stopped writing down what I was reading and have lost track. This has very much worked to get me back into the habit of reading though, 16 household items or pieces of clothing made (13/16) No more in June 15 meals with friends (8/15) Now here there HAS been some progress! I'm not counting tea and cake in cafe, or when I meet a friend on my own - this is both of us having a proper meal with our pals which, miraculously, happened three times in June. All three times here, outdoors, some weather better than others, but all excellent fun. Long may it continue. 14 meals from home grown produce (0/14) Still none, but with the new chickens now laying I reckon we can knock up a simple herby omelette sometime soon, and I've already made some gooseberry jam so just need to dig out the breadmaker... (obviously I'm not growing my own wheat - but I reckon homemade jam on homemade bread will count). 13 evening lectures (0/13) Nope. I confess after a day of staring at the computer screen I haven't really wanted to spend the evenings doing the same thing. 12 donations to the foodbank (4/12) I actually managed to collect a physical donation while I was doing my shopping in June. 11 solo days out for me (0/11) 10 loaves of bread made (0/10) 9 bike rides (3/9) Yes! So many bike rides! Well, two in June it seems (but a lot more in July...). I'm really enjoying taking my bike down to the old railway trail and doing a few miles on a Friday morning, and sometimes in the evenings too. Utterly glorious. 8 organised runs (2/8) 7 new places visited (1/7) 6 attempts at cheese making (0/6) 5 'No Quibble' weekends away (0/5) No progress on any of these things 4 pairs of socks made (0/4) Some sock progress though! I found a ball of wall I'd bought ages ago from The Inkpot, and have made a start on a sock. So far just the one, and I've had to order some more wool for the second, but that's arrived now so I'm hoping I might have a pair sometime soon. 3 days volunteering (0/3)
2 LAND centres visited (1/2) 1 holiday (0/1) Ok, so some progress on socks, bike rides, and eating with friends. More of all of those things in July, plus maybe even some home grown food and a few more letters. We'll see. The veg patch Lots happened on the homestead in June. Way back in May we spent weeks preparing the new veg patch, and in June the seedlings finally got hardened off and planted out. This year I only planted seeds I already had (plus some I was sent as part of a subscription to the Heritage Seed Library) so it's a fairly motley assortment. We've got cabbage, swede, kale, turnips, rainbow chard, spinach, peas, sweetcorn, cucumber, and courgette in the veg beds so far. Oh, and some new potatoes that were sprouting in the kitchen, so they got thrown in too. I've rescued some supermarket basil, and my friend gave me some red basil and some butternut squash seedlings, so they'll need to go out this weekend too, along with the last of the greenhouse stuff - mostly leeks and beetroot, and many teeny tiny cabbages that can replace some of the ones the chickens dug up (yes, I stupidly let them in the veg patch for a few hours, and yes, they're now shut out again). Cutting the grass Outside the tidiness of the veg patch, things have been getting rather untidy. There's a lot of grass round here, and I mainly manage it (a) with a scythe, (b) with a push along lawnmower, or (c) by ignoring it. The edible windbreak had got a little out of hand though and the bushes were being swamped. The push along mower doesn't really deal with waist high grass, and there are a few too many valuable things to be swinging a scythe (or even a strimmer, which we do have, but which I don't really like using), so I set about sorting out this mess with a pair of hand shears. I did eventually reveal the gooseberries, and the whole area looks far more manageable now. My July homestead post will be filled with harvest stories (unless the chickens get there first). Chickens! Speaking of chickens... June held much chicken excitement. Peter spent days dismantling this old pig housing and using various bits to build a roof on the chicken run and other renovations. Finally, on the 27th, we collected our three new ladies, who are settling in nicely after some initial squabbles. Six chickens feels like about five times as many as three, but at least the new ladies haven't found their way into our house yet. Visitors Some of the lockdown restrictions eased in June and we welcomed our first visitors, which after months of barely seeing anyone out here, was both very nice and a little odd. We were fortunate with our first visitors that the weather was nice, but in since then we've had to get rather inventive with our shelter-building (but that's for July's post...).
So there we are. June feels like ages ago now and I did wonder whether to combine my June and July homestead posts, but I do like having each month separate and seeing how the wheel of the year turns. This has felt like the busiest weekend in a long time. Some of our Friday visitors stayed over, and the others joined us on Saturday morning before heading off to visit a local park. We spent much of the rest of Saturday sat under our festival shelter, reading and dozing. Saturday was a big day for the new chickens - we let them out to properly free range for the first time. There are no chicken-proof fences between us and that view, and when they headed into the long grass I was slightly concerned we were never going to see them again. But chickens are home-loving creatures, and never seem to stray too far. We spent a lot of time outside, and they spent most of the time hanging round with us, with a wary eye on the other chickens (who are still giving a nasty peck occasionally, but are learning to tolerate them at a distance). Yes, I did let them into the veg patch for a while - I thought it would provide a nice distraction for the older ones, and encourage the new ones not to go too far away. It did confirm why I usually keep them locked out though. So they pottered about, and Bessie had a bit of a sunbathe, which was very nice to see as she's clearly not feeling well at the minute. Poor old Bessie. Vets on Wednesday, so she just needs to hang in there until then. When they'd finally gone into their run for the evening, I took my bike out again. I confess it's the last thing I felt like doing, but I'd enjoyed the ride the previous morning and promised myself I'd go again, trying a slightly different route. Down the normal trail for a couple of miles, yes, but then off onto the quiet back roads. I was tired, but I was so very glad I went. Sunday was a day of parks. I got up early to join a group of women for my first run with other people since lockdown began. Up until the middle of March, I'd been doing a 5k programme with a local running club, and we were about to start going further when all activity stopped. We've kept in touch, and a couple of the women had been running together in the last couple of weeks. This was the first time I'd joined them though - five of us ran all stretched out around the local park rather earlier in the morning than I'd usually be running, and it was great. After that, an exciting trip to Sheffield. I had lunch in a park with a friend and her children, and then met another friend and we ended up in another park near my old house. Such a lovely afternoon, and so very nice to see people, but by the end of it the sun, and the driving, and probably a bit of dehydration had caught up with me and I had rather a nasty headache. I got home to find Peter had been cleaning and shifting things in the chicken run, which now feels nicely spacious with plenty of places to perch and hide, and somewhere for both of us to sit too. We had two more small eggs from the new ladies (no sign of any from the older ladies this week I don't think). There are a few more raspberries on the bush, and I should probably pick those before the chickens notice them. Back to work today, although I confess I am extremely ready for a week or two off now, if only to recover from the weekend...
Yesterday started with what is rapidly becoming one of my favourite Friday morning activities - a bike ride down the High Peak Trail. It's the best place to get a flat bike ride round here, and I don't mind it being the same out and back route each time as the seasons always change, and I'm mostly there for fresh air and exercise anyway. Yesterday there were plenty of wild flowers. I like to go early in the morning, partly because the car park is free (which didn't matter when I had an annual parking permit, but does matter now I have to find change after months of not using cash), and partly because it's so quiet - I only saw two sets of dog walkers in five miles. I was home by 9.15, and we spent the rest of the morning preparing for our visitors. We planned to stay outside, even though we're allowed to have people inside now - six visitors, including small children (they're all in a support bubble together) plus us seemed a little too many to handle inside at the minute. Bessie came inside for a while - she's swelling up with fluid again and off to the vets on Wednesday, and in the meantime seems to have done something to her foot. It can't be that bad because she's still walking on it, but yesterday she looked rather gloomy about the whole thing. I attempted to catch her and have a look at it in the mirror, but she wasn't impressed, and the implant is causing her to moult so feathers were falling out everywhere. I left her alone in the end, and after standing in a corner for an hour or so she toddled off outside quite happily. I made food (including a very quick gooseberry jam) and Peter re-worked yesterday's shelter in the garden. When we've done this type of thing before, we've put sheets of plastic down under the blankets, but this time we had the ingenious idea of spreading out a bale of hay. It worked really well to keep us warm and comfortable, although of course now we'll be pulling hay out of the blankets for weeks. We had a lovely afternoon of eating and chasing Rusty the chicken - she is by far the most tolerant of small children and they often ask for her by name. Beaky is still annoyed about the new chickens, and not much interested in people anyway, Bessie is poorly, and the three new ones haven't been properly let out at all yet, so those five were all shut away for their own good. Rusty played along nicely and got plenty of treats in return. She even let the new chickens go to bed without too much pecking.
We lit a fire and sat under the shelter while the sun went down, and it was a lovely end to the day. I'm writing this on Friday morning, and remembering just how much I used to love having Fridays off. I usually try to take a few Fridays off throughout the summer (like today) but it's just not the same as having a four day week every week. I'm working towards having Fridays off again, and as far as I'm concerned, it can't come soon enough. Anyway, yesterday was another long working day, although less arduous than the rest of the week. A colleague and I arranged a virtual 'writing retreat' for ourselves - nothing fancy, we just checked in by video at set points in the day and shared what we were doing. It was SO nice to see her, and it really did feel like we were working together (even though we were working on completely separate things), and I got lots done. It was still a long day though. We finished our writing stint at 4pm, and I remembered a deadline I'd missed at lunchtime (oops). Then I realised I was taking today off, so there were a couple of things I wanted to finish before the weekend. Before I knew it, it was 7.30, and a friend was ringing for a much-needed chat. After that we went to the supermarket - not exactly my favourite thing to do but needs must. Anyway, the most exciting thing that happened yesterday was that we had our first egg from the new chickens! Bonnie I think - I saw her coming out of the hen house at lunchtime. Well done Bonnie. It's slightly smaller and less speckledy than the ones from the older hens, but it's recognisably an egg, and it was even laid in the nest box! In less exciting hen news, Rusty has started pecking the younger hens while they're trying to get into the hen house at night. This is most vexing, as they'd all started to go to bed together nicely, regardless of their animosity during the day. Last night she was so persistent that I had to take her out of the hen house and chuck her into the outside run while the others went to bed, then plonk her in separately at the other end of the hen house when everyone else had settled down. Hope they sort it all out soon because I'm quite bored of chicken squabbling now.
Anyway, we have visitors coming this afternoon. Peter spent a couple of hours yesterday building a shelter, but now apparently the wind is blowing in the wrong direction so it's going to have to be rebuilt. I might ban all future visitors until the weather is more reliable. Today started like yesterday - an early morning of work under a blanket on the little sofa. Unlike yesterday though, this was swiftly followed by a whole-day video call - which turned out to be far less painful than it sounds. By 4pm though I was thoroughly sick of sitting on my office chair, and well in need of a treat, so we made a last minute dash to our favourite cafe, which has recently opened for takeaways. Once inside we discovered tables! Actual tables! And while I am nowhere near inclined to go into a crowded pub any time soon, we were the only customers, so we sat inside for the first time in four months. We only had half an hour before they closed, but it was so very nice to hang out in there again.
More excitement when we came home - I decided to experiment with letting the new chickens out of their enclosure. Peter wasn't convinced, so they only came out for a few minutes of freedom. I think they got a taste for it though. Today started early. Not too early, but earlier than I would have liked. I had an unusual amount of work to do today (and yes, theoretically I could have done more of it last week, but that was a bit of a moot point this morning). Anyway, the one saving grace was that today's work didn't have to involve the laptop, and so 7.30am found me on the sofa in the study under a blanket, still in my dressing gown. I did a couple of hours, then had a break for a shower and some breakfast. Back on the sofa again, reading and writing, with a small break to visit the chickens, old and new. They still haven't forgiven us for shutting them all in together yesterday. Our friend Tiny Robin has joined the flock, and was there as usual when it was time for treats, blending in nicely with the ground. Speaking of Tiny Robin, I don't think I've posted this picture from the other day, when he landed on my back (actually I have no idea if Tiny Robin is a he, but since the one male in this household is wildly outnumbered let's assume he is). Back inside, more work. Yawn. Another chicken break later, after we realised Rusty had been wandering round in the rain and was soaking wet. The others are much better at taking shelter, but Rusty doesn't mind wandering round in all weathers. She did have a bit of a cough the other day though so I'd rather she didn't catch a chill. We sat in the chicken run with a cuppa as the ladies started to wind down towards bedtime. Chippy is currently our most affectionate chicken, and jumps up as soon as we sit down. I love the way they tuck their heads right under their wings. I noticed on the way back in that one of the raspberries is ripening. We're not going to have a huge raspberry crop - more enough for a couple of breakfasts than endless jars of jam, but I'm hopeful these will start producing more now I've stopped moving them around. Actually, looking at that picture I can see that something's started eating it already. Hmm. Anyway, back on the sofa, yawn. At least it was warm and comfy, and gave my back a nice change from sitting in the office chair. Like yesterday, if the chimney hadn't been full of twigs from the jackdaws' nest, I would definitely have lit the fire today. They've gone now, so I might get the chimney brushes out at the weekend. Finally I finished, or at least got to the end of what I could handle in one day - over twelve hours since I started. I know people regularly work twelve hour shifts, but I don't, and when I did it involved walking around and being with other people, not sitting in a room on my own staring at a screen. It was still raining, but I was very much in need of a walk, and when I got outside it wasn't as bad as it looked. I didn't go far, just half a mile out to the road and back again. But it felt SO nice to be walking, even in the drizzle.
A quick chat with my mum, a hot chocolate, and I'm not far off bed now. Tomorrow is a whole day video call - a frightening prospect but one which can't be avoided. I think there's definitely going to be a need for a walk in the evening again. Wonder if they'll notice if I call in from under a blanket on the sofa?? |
Hello!Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'm Jenni, and I write here about our new foray into country living, which includes growing food, knitting, baking, wandering around the fields, and seeing which local cafe serves the best cake. Categories
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