Happy 2017. Well, we can hope, can't we?

Happy New Year, friends—

There's another one past.

We're getting the hang

Of this living, at last.

We're still making plans,

We still have our dreams,

And the hope that this world's

Not as bad as it seems.

There's a calendar full

Of blank, empty days

To fill with good things,

Or to fritter away.

Like an unwritten page

Or a new book, unread,

We're not really sure yet

Of what lies ahead.

So we'll travel in hope,

With our friends and our kin,

Hoping we'll all

Fit another year in.





copyright 2016 Tracey Meredith

Chistmas Commeth On Apace. And Other Stuff.

 So, here we are, a mere 3 more days until the big C (and I had to check the calendar to confirm that), and it's the one nice day within the assortment of fog, rain and gales that are on their way. Some of the P&J's presents have arrived (though, of course, none of the ones on his list), some of them delivered so early, my OH was able to intercept them before he went to work, enabling me to enjoy the luxury of an unhurried lie in.
 The dog has been for her check up and screening at the vet's. She is "looking good for her age" (which is more that you could say about me), her teeth are "remarkable", and we now await the results of blood tests for liver and kidney function. £127, mind, but given how few problems we've had with her over the 13 years we've had her, I don't begrudge her that, as we head towards the end of her time with us. If there is something brewing, I want to catch it before it becomes something traumatic. We're looking for quality, not quantity.
 No doubt she'll be wanting to join me in the garden this afternoon, as I try to hack back the brambles growing from my neighbour's garden, and last years growth of the shrubs. I've already told my neighbour, when I win the lottery, we're having a gardener. He just laughed.
 There is stuff to do, before the new term begins, and I want to be on top of it this time- certainly with getting the seeds planted early, and the garlic in. Sometime this week, I have to start filling the new raised beds, which means the tedious job of sieving the litter out of my compost (some ear-hole, whom we shall not mention, decided to empty the vacuum cleaner into the compost bin. Those of you with families- you know the sort of things that go up the hoover.) The greenhouse needs clearing out and re-organising, so there is more room for growing. It's just as well the days are starting to draw out now!
 Hanging over all this is a black cloud. Well, maybe not black. Greyish. Definitely greyish. My husband's imminent retirement from a job he's been in since he was 17. He's had enough and we have both agreed it is better he gets out before his health goes, and he's still able to work. Something that doesn't involve 2 to 4 hours a day, just getting to work and back will be a start. But he does have to get a job. Our finances can't absorb a £10k drop in finances. And that's my grey cloud. Will he be able to find something? I'm worried that he won't. Or will be too picky. Or too nervous. After all, he's been in the same job for over 30 years. It's a big change that's coming, and very scary. For both of us.
 He retires mid February, and he assures me he will get his CV together and visit the local employment agencies (I think he quite likes the idea of temping, and I have to say, I think it's a good option). But I've not seen any evidence of it yet. And I'm worrying. Not least because I've been saving for years to refurbish my 1970s kitchen- or at least the floor- and I can see that disappearing. However, if he does land a job, we might actually be better off, especially if he's not travelling- or not as far. And who knows, he may even have more time and energy, and our lives will be transformed. Maybe. I'll let you know around February. In the meantime, cheer up. Christmas will soon be over and you won't have to worry about it for another year. It's a shame the same can't be said for for Trump. Or Brexit. Or global warming. Or...

The difficulties in Going Green, even if you want to.

  I was reading an article a few days ago- it may have been in the Guardian, or possibly a Greenpeace post on Facebook- about the amount of unnecessary packaging there is of our goods; how, even though the damage plastics are doing to our environment is widely agreed upon, we're still not getting rid of the stuff.

The "tax" on plastic bags, the banning of micro-beads by some supermarkets, is really only a small drop in the ocean, an ocean that is still increasingly filling with our discarded rubbish. The problem is, while I may not have to worry for much longer whether the toothpaste in my local supermarket contains micro-beads, my toothpaste still comes in a plastic tube. I am also finding it increasingly difficult to buy vegetable oil or vinegars in a glass bottle, and I'm only given the option of a paper bag if I'm buying mushrooms.
  Cleaning fluids that claim to be environmentally friendly are, nevertheless, in plastic bottles, and I've only once come across a company whose plastic bottles are labelled as being made from recycled plastic. I recently read that less than 10% of the plastic we generate is recycled, which, if true, is a depressing figure.
  Not all packaging needs to be plastic- I buy vegan spicy burgers from Quorn. They come in a simple cardboard box. My son has Quorn's (non-vegan) Dippers. They come in a plastic bag that can't be recycled. Why?

  If governments can interfere when it comes to plastic bags, why can't they put pressure on companies to also kick the plastic in other ways? A tax on products wrapped in plastic or made from non-recycled plastic, perhaps?
  Could we not have the greengrocery part of supermarkets offering entirely packaging free goods, like independent greengrocers do, and paper bags (remember them?), if bags are really needed.
  Supermarkets themselves could be the driving force behind this change, requiring their suppliers to pack their products in an environmentally friendly way. And if a plastic container is the only option, can we bring it back and get it refilled?
  The emphasis on cleaning up the environment shouldn't just be about recycling our rubbish, it should also be about not producing it in the first place; not only could that result in a cleaner environment, it could result in savings for local councils and their tax payers, as less would have to be disposed of.
  So, here I am, a willing Green, but unable to be as green as I'd like. I appreciate that some solutions will take time, as will changing people's habits, but there are some things that could be done to enable me to chose the green option. For example, companies could advise on their packaging how much, if any of it, is made from recycled plastic, or glass, or paper. Supermarkets could offer paper bags, or encourage their customers to bring their own reusable cotton bags- saving the supermarkets money, savings they could pass on to their customers.

Realistically, the only way things are going to happen apace, is if we, as customers, drive it- and that means sometimes paying a little extra for the company that uses recycled products in its packaging, and ditching the products that come wrapped in plastic, for those in paper or card. Or maybe even ditching some products entirely. We can contact those companies we love, but are letting us down, we can contact our representatives in government and ask them- what are you doing about this?

 Huge swathes of our oceans are dying, and what with all the doom and gloom about our environment, the tendency is to think it is all beyond our control, that we can do nothing about it, or that too much is being asked of us. But the truth is, we can all do something. Make changes to your habits. Small changes. Don't put your carrots in a plastic bag. Don't buy the shrink wrapped broccoli. Stop buying bottled water. Forgo that (throwaway) cup of coffee on your way to work. Small changes. Though, don't let me talk you out of making big changes. Small changes made by all of us, amount to a big change that wouldn't happen otherwise. It's doing something. And that's important. Because doing nothing isn't an option any more.


 UPDATE Recent article in the Guardian- 
what some businesses are doing to help towards a plastic-free environment
 

Stress, Depression, Early Retirement and Conquering Mail Chimp

   Well, it's been about six weeks or so since my last blog. I thought I might make an effort this year, and it was going quite well; I even had a go at the A to Z challenge. But it's all fizzled out again, I'm afraid.
  It's tricky, really. I can't write about work, as a lot of it is confidential. I can't write about my hobbies, as, even if I could remember what they are, I haven't the time for them. The P&J hasn't asked to go into deepest South Wales to do a bike ride, so we haven't been exploring, and except for the cat's thyroid gland ( she's completely recovered, by the way), the pets haven't been able to contribute anything, either.
 So, I sit here, wondering what to write about, and who it might interest. Shall I write about the allotment? No, we've given back the keys for that and are going to convert part of the back yard into a kitchen garden. Shall I write about the kitchen garden, then? Er, no, the weather has been too poor to start that, and it's not likely to get going until the spring. Ditto the greenhouse. If you're lucky, though, you might get exciting news about the seedlings growing on my widow sills, from January onwards.
 What about the OH or the P&J? Hmm. Do you want to hear about stress, depression and early retirement? No? I don't blame you. 2017 is certainly going to be an interesting year.
  The P&J is pottering on happily, still going off on ridiculously long bike rides in ridiculous weather. He's got a judo grading next week, two days of it, the poor soul. He's told me to come on the Sunday, as it's "more fun." He's working on his junior black belt. If he achieves his stripes this weekend, he'll only have the teaching and mentoring one to get, and so, with luck, might squeeze in the junior black belt before he hits eighteen.
  The self publishing isn't really any further forward; Barry is still being edited,

but I am quietly confident it will be out by Christmas, or possibly the end of November. However, despite some nice reviews, the sales of my other books are pathetic- yet still sufficient to warrant me having to complete a self assessment tax return. Apparently HMRC owe me £7.00.
  I have fallen in with this chap- nick@yourfirst10kreaders.com (Nick Stephenson), who has given me some sound and, importantly, free advice on how to improve matters, and it is partly his fault that I've been otherwise engaged. I have also started revising and re-editing all my current books, with a view to getting some of them into paperback.
  Several "gurus" I have contact with have stressed the importance of a healthy mail list to build my following and potential readership. I had a half-arsed go at it last year, but, again, couldn't give it the time it deserved, and so had nil subscribers after nearly a year. But after listening to Nick's advice, I spent last weekend on a maths and mark making course, and- getting to grips with
MailChimp. Oh, the wailing. Oh, the gnashing of teeth. But I nailed it. And would you believe it? I discovered I had acquired a subscriber, and I sent them my newly created Welcome email. So what if they'd been there since June. They had signed up and they were getting the email, whether they liked it or not.
  So, I'm up and I'm ready, and my next project is to write a half-decent short story, or one of my epic length daft poems, to send as a free gift in return for email addresses, and find out how to get the gift to them when they click that send button. And, of course, there's the publication of Barry. If I can get some impetus on the email addresses before that comes out, my next tax return might be worth the doing. So, if you'd like to help me on this journey, and encourage me to develop my IT skills, why don't you just... click on the button- that lovely big button up there, and down there as well. Go on. Sign up for emails. and I promise I won't flood your inbox.
  And that, my friends, is that. Off to bed with me. The next time you hear from me, it will probably be Christmas. Baah! Humbug!

Fingers Crossed for the Cat

Yes, fingers crossed for the cat, indeed. The hero of our battle with the neighbourhood rats is not well (again). No sore throat this time; no, this is more serious.
 She was under the weather, not eating, not drinking and, well, not doing anything, really. She just lay under the yew tree, looking distinctly dis-interested and would have stayed there all night in the dark and cold, if I hadn't brought her in.

 Given her age, I thought it best to get her checked, but the vet couldn't find anything obvious. However, he was concerned about her heart-rate and suggested there might be a thyroid problem. He couldn't find the tell-tale swelling that might confirm this, and it wouldn't explain Jemara's other symptoms, so we agreed, as I was going to get her tested at the end of the month, anyway (to check everything was ok- remember, she's an old lady), he would do her bloods now, and see what showed up.
  When he brought her out of the consulting room, he told me they had found the swollen thyroid gland when they shaved the fur from her neck, and we could see it when he pressed it down and let it go- it bobbed up. We discussed in general terms what our options would be, and he would ring me when he had processed her test.
 So he rang me this evening, and confirmed there were issues with her liver and thyroid functions (the two go hand in hand, he told me). Everything else was good. How was she now, he asked me. Much improved, I told him. She was eating and drinking and telling me tall stories about giant rats. The original cause for concern appears to have sorted itself out. That simplified matters and we went on to discuss the best options.
  As I'm off for the last part of October, that would be the best time to remove the errant thyroid gland. It's a fiddly job, Steve told me, but leaves only a small wound and she'll probably be happily eating that same day. In the meantime, Jemara will go on tablets to control the problem and hopefully return her thyroid levels to normal before the op. Then on Tuesday 25th of this month, she is booked in for the operation, 9.30 am, no food after midnight, no water after 8am. Yes, it is going to be expensive. But, hey, this is the cat who took out 3 rats and with only 2 teeth in her head. And she deserves all the care she can get.


11 October 2016 Update on the cat-

 Well, I've got the cat's pills. A mere snip at £15. And this, my friends, is why I'm opting for the op. Four times I shoved that itty-bitty tablet down her throat. Four times she spat it out. In the end, the P&J had to hold her while I clamped her mouth shut for five minutes. Still not sure she didn't spit it out in the garden...

12 October 2016

My colleague's tip to hide the pill in a piece of cheese seems to have worked- Jemara appears to have swallowed her pill without the usual fuss; and she's much brighter. She's recently discovered catnip, and can be seen above,playing with her beloved catnip mouse.

 

It's Autumn, So We're Getting Ready For Spring!

It's been over a month since my last post, I know. I'd like to say I've been too busy, but uninspired might be nearer the truth. Well, maybe not uninspired- unmotivated (if that's a word) might be a better description.
  I have been doing stuff- trying to get the garden ready for next year, and re-editing some of my older ebooks, as well as editing and re-editing Barry. And my electrician has been in and upgraded the ground floor for me. We may have to wait until Easter for the upstairs to be done, but, in the meantime, I've got a bag full of extension leads and adapters, if anyone needs some.
 Why am I re -editing my older books, I hear you ask. Well, I was thinking of having a go with CreateSpace, if for no other reason than to present my son with my works to date in paperback (he's already told me he'll read them in that format, and as they were originally written with him in mind, I feel he should be made to keep his promise). However, I've heard a few bad reports about CreateSpace, so I thought I might investigate further before committing myself. Anyone reading this who has anecdotal evidence, please let me know your views.
 The garden has been and will continue to be, an ongoing project. This summer has been about cutting down and back all the shrubs in the back yard, partly to let light in, but mostly to stop my neighbour's jungle spreading to my little oasis.
  We have done our last stint on the allotment and cleared it of tools and any plants I want for my kitchen garden (mainly rhubarb and raspberry canes). It is now a case of reorganising the garden so that it works efficiently for me from the food production point of view, and provides a haven for wild life (though preferably, not rats!) and a place we enjoy.
 There are two major projects we have to dispose of first, and at least one will require a man with a chainsaw. First, I need to finish cutting out parts of the old apple tree that are potentially dangerous and/or dying. We started that in the spring, but haven't got any further on. If we get good weather for the half term holiday, we may be able to get that done, and then I should be able to transport the plants currently where I want my kitchen garden to be, down to the other end of the garden.
As you can see, there are a fare few branches to come off, some of them quite awkward. You might also notice the yew and the branches on the left are entangled by vines and creepers growing from my neighbour's garden. This part of the project is going to have to be done carefully, or the weight of the brambles and stuff might pull the fence down.
  Once this has been done, we can start planting the ground under it, which is currently weeds and bags of compost. The greenhouse is just to one side of this, and the ultimate plan will be to plant the ground with plants that will attract pollinators and birds. Pro-tem, we will just replant what's in the proposed kitchen garden at the moment, that we don't want to keep there- the crane'sfoot, for a start, and probably some lemon balm. I'm debating putting some patio slabs down here, to put the compost bins on. However, there is a raised bed on the other side of the greenhouse that is set on already laid slabs, and it might prove simpler, and perhaps more aesthetic, to put the composters there, perhaps with some wicker screening in front of them. The raised bed might be more convenient nearer, or part of, the kitchen garden. It's deep enough for potatoes and has given us reliable harvests for the last few years.

  The hardest part of the project-and the bit for which I need someone with a chainsaw- will be cutting down, or back, this shrub, which creates a lot of shade on both sides, and is, like the apple tree, being overcome by plants from next door's garden. I don't know what it is, but the wood is very difficult to cut. This isn't as urgent as the apple tree, as it won't impact so much on the proposed vegetable garden. I'm in two minds as to whether to keep it or not. The birds seem to like it, but it is starting to die back in places, and maybe, if I did cut it down, I could plant some dwarf fruit trees. It's something I'll have to think about at a later date, perhaps once we've got the kitchen garden going.
  So, this is where the kitchen garden will be going- right outside my back-door and, hopefully, all in one place. It would be helpful to have the greenhouse nearer, but I accept that is asking too much at the moment. Should I have a small win on the lottery, maybe I can arrange it. In the meantime, its current position will mean a regular walk to the other end of the garden in the summer, so at least I'll be keeping an eye on things up there.

In case you're wondering, the shrub under the window here is a blackcurrant. They're pretty easy to grow from cuttings, so if I can get a new one going, I may plant one further down the garden, for the birds to enjoy. So that's where we are now. We'll see if there's any progress by the end of October. 

 

Conwy, North Wales. What to do when your husband is busy looking for collectibles.

Yes, you're right. This is a bit late. But the problem is, well the problem is, when you're on holiday you're busy, aren't you? And when you get home, you're busy again, catching up with the things you didn't do because you were on holiday.
So, apologies. The report of my visit to Conwy is late. I'm sure we'll all get over it.
  So, the P&J wasn't with us. I can't remember if he was out on his bike or still in bed. Either way, we didn't have to accommodate him. The OH had found an interesting antique/second hand/junk kind of shop last time we were in Conwy, that had loads of old post cards. Yes, my husband is a collector. Not actually of post cards, but of post marks. Specifically East Kent postmarks. There. I've admitted it. He also collects non-league football programmes, but we don't talk about that. Anyway, while he was rummaging in the bowels of the shop, I went wandering around the town with the P&J's camera, trying to find photos of things I hadn't snapped or hadn't visited before.
  For anyone visiting North Wales, make time for Conwy. You can cheerfully spend the day there. Got kids? They tell you history is boring? Buy them a cheap set of bow and arrows, or a wooden sword and/or not shield, and take them to Conwy Castle. Let them imagine, let them play. They'll have a fabulous time. My son has had sword fights and archery contests in most of the castles in Wales. Nobody was bothered by it. It will bring to life what history is- and isn't text books.
The castle was commissioned by by Edward I around 1283. The Welsh were

excluded from the town, and the English were paid to move in. The castle was built on the site of the Aberconwy Abbey, after the monks were relocated further along the Conwy Valley, to Maen Abbey. Lovely man, Edward.
  But there's more. There is the suspension bridge, built by Thomas Telford (1826), which runs alongside the tubular Conwy Railway Bridge, built in 1849 by Robert Stephenson. Both structures are still in use.
  You can also visit the National Trust's Aberconwy House, a fourteenth century Merchant house, as well as Cadw's Elizabethan house at Plas Mwr.
 Down on the harbour, among the lobster pots and folk on the jetty fishing for crabs, is the Smallest House in Great Britain, and access to boat trips on the Conwy river. Across the estuary, apparently, is  the manor house of Bodysgallan, which I don't think I've visited.

 Conwy still has its town wall, a lot of which can be accessed and walked for free, from various points. There are many independent shops in the high street and environs, including Conwy Strollers, which stocks genuine Crocs and a pleasant staff, and no, they didn't pay me to say that- I just happen to have bought my last two pairs of Crocs from them.
 
There is a variety of cafes and restaurants to suit all pockets and taste. We usually visit  the Press Room Cafe, as it's a bit different and not over priced. And it's usually the OH's turn to pay.
 And if you're  into Medieval stuff, you might want to visit the shop on the right. But make sure you've bought the kids their cheap bow and arrows, etc, first. I believe they have an on-line outlet as well.
  There was other stuff which I will put on my Pinterest account in due course and make a link here. And if you're passing Conwy Mountain, spare a thought for the P&J- he goes cycling up that.

For the rest of the pictures
taken today, click on the
big P

Finding #Nebo- exploring #NorthWales' lesser known roads.

Some pictures of rural North Wales and the Snowdonia National Park today. We went for an explore, as we like to upset the SatNav by totally ignoring its instructions. We are also mildly amused by our guide's attempts to pronounce Welsh place names (try driving past  Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (lan-vire-pool-guin-gith-go-ger-u-queern-drob-ooth-clandus-ilio-gogo-goch), which translates roughly as "St Mary's Church in the Hollow of the White Hazel near a Rapid Whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the Red Cave" if you want to rupture its circuits.)

  We took the B roads- or possibly even some C roads- one track affairs where you only meet working Land Rovers and tractors. And sheep. There were quite a lot of sheep.
  The views here are dominated by the Snowdonia mountains and National Park, a haven for walkers, mountain bikers and climbers, and for those who like to exert a little less energy, sight-seeing, coffee shops and a little light photography. We tend to fall into the last category, these days.
 

 We  (that is, the OH and I- the P&J wasn't with us- he was out on a warm up ride prior to another go at Conwy Mountain) keep talking about putting our boots on and doing some shorter walks, to build up our stamina, but the OH has yet to get a pair of suitable boots. Why he has no boots, I don't know, as he had several pairs last time I looked; in fact, I did, at one time, think they were the start of another one of his collections. But let's not dwell on that.
Most of these pictures come from the
Llanrwst- Nebo area, with a couple 
taken on our way back through the 
Park to the coast. And, as a reason for going wherever we were going, we decided on the Finding Nebo theme,
which took us on a lot of one vehicle roads, through Capel Garmen and onto Nebo. 
  This is a time when the SatNav comes into its own, as it is easy to get lost in this kind of landscape- where narrow roads can go on for ages, with no turnings and no one to ask for directions. The advantage over a paper road atlas is, of course, a SatNav will show you where you actually are, even when  you haven't a clue.
 As we were wandering around, we came across a sign post into some fields, indicating a burial mound somewhere among the sheep. The OH sent me off to investigate, as the only place to park on the single track road was in someone's gateway. Followed by a group of German tourists, who appeared to be in the middle of a walk, I trudged through the fields. The tourists gave up early on, but I continued through the sheep until I

found the thing. Here it is. I'd love to tell you all about it, but it is so in the middle of nowhere, I couldn't find anything about it. Anyway, here's a picture.
  On my way back to the car, I stopped to help a lamb, who was on the wrong side of a fence, to get back to its mum. However, despite physically taking the creature by the scruff of its neck to the stretch of fallen fence that would enable it to be reunited, and despite its mother calling to it, the stupid creature ran off in the opposite direction. Thick as two short planks.
There are a few more photo's, which I will stick on Pinterest in due course. We did eventually find Nebo, and our way back to the A470 and home, thanks to satellite navigation. See, sometimes technology is very useful.

 
 

Back to the Allotment, Where Stuff is Happening

We're on a roll, it seems. The allotment remains almost as tidy as we left it, so we tidied it up some more. Wish I'd bought the strimmer sooner- it saves so much work.

  The potatoes are beginning to flower, so they've had a bucketful of water. Yes, a bucketful. Each. We may have had some rain recently, but it's not nuch in evidence up on my allotment.
  Three carrot plants are holding their own, despite the slugs. Only one of the beetroot I planted has made it. The O.H. set off with the strimmer while I planted the beetroot seedlings. Well, one can hope, can't one?
  The peas now have pods and may be

ready in a week or ten days. There is no sign of the french beans (ooh la-la), so I planted some more. They always seem to need two or three attempts before they consent to grow. As there is no sign of the beans, I assume something ate them.
  There's a rather lovely wild poppy growing in the middle of one bed. It's partially seeded, so a mental note to oneself to save some pods when they're ripe to go in my garden. Fat chance I'll remember, but I can only try.
 The squashes are looking better and are just about to  flower. Something's had a go at one, but it's big enough to take it, I think.
  The onions are looking a mixed bag. They've had a good weed and water, as the longest day is nearly upon us, and they will soon stop growing and start swelling.

The OH kindly tidied up the fruit patch, which is always a law unto itself, recovering as he did, a small crop of ripe strawberries. The gooseberry bush is laden and the raspberries beginning to ripen. So home and a hot bath and change of clothes, because folks, I am going out tonight. Yes, the P&J and I are supporting his  judo club's quiz night tonight. The OH was invited, but declined, saying it wasn't his thing. It's got nothing to do with the European cup being on the telly. Or the rugby. Or the cricket...

June is Bustin' and things are looking good

  It is, I think, well known that the British are obsessed with the weather. In a country that can experience what seems like all four seasons in one day, we talk about it and grumble about it, stating the obvious (nice day, isn't it?), complaining (it's too hot/cold?), and defining ourselves by it (I'm a Spring/ Summer/ Autumn person). Is anyone a winter person? I mean winter in Britain, not somewhere that enjoys winter sports because they get snow and ice (what we would probably call a proper winter, even though we rarely have one). Most winters here are wet and miserable, and getting wetter, it would seem.
 Summer also can be a bit hit and miss. Us Olders (I do not yet consider myself of sufficient years to label myself an Oldie) still hark back to the summer of '76, a summer I recall as full of sun and heat, though it probably wasn't anywhere near as good as I think I remember. We were living near the coast that year, and I remember the trek through the footpaths with my then friend, Tina Ricks, to a secluded beach to which we had access. And I remember my older sibling turning to beckon me into the water, unaware that a huge breaker was rearing up behind her. I laughed heartily, while she screamed as the wave hit. She probably doesn't even remember it.

  This year's summer got off to a galloping start, leading in with a dry, warm Spring. We were grateful. Gardens got the attention they deserved. The allotment got an early start. I actually remembered to plant my veggies at the right time. Then we started to complain it was too hot, so Summer sent Rain, to give us something else to moan about. The rain, however, has been interspersed with sunny, warm periods, and while it may not be ideal weather for a day on the beach with the kids, it has been ideal growing weather, and everything that's been planted is coming on apace- if it can grow big enough before the slugs or pigeons find it.(Two lots of beetroot have mysteriously disappeared. I'm not naming names, but the local pigeons are looking exceptionally rotund and healthy).

The tomatoes in the greenhouse are already bearing tiny fruit; the Scotch Bonnet chillies are getting ready to ripen. There are tiny fruits on the olive. The potatoes are flowering, the cucumbers are about to flower, and we have just picked and tasted our first  cucamelon fruits. What? I hear you ask. Stick your mouse on the word to find the link. Essentially, they are bite-size cucumbers.
  Tomorrow, we hope to get up to the allotment and tidy it up. I will also put in some beetroot that I have been growing in the greenhouse, and see how they fare. Assuming pigeons are the culprits, it might be a good idea to put some netting out, to cover the beetroot- net curtains, in my case. I will report back in a couple of weeks if this has been successful. The P&J will be most disappointed if he doesn't have his supply of

fresh beetroot this summer. He's been very keen on the stuff ever since I told him about it turning your pee red if you eat enough of it.

Bees buzzing on my cotoneaster

A Week Off, Slugs, Snails and the Cat

So, a week off, stuff planned, and not done... well, much really. Actually, that's a lie. I did clean the mould off from around the kitchen window, and the window pane itself, so now I can see the greenhouse at the bottom of the garden (I'm loving that greenhouse). And I finally accepted that only I can see the coffee and various other unspeakables on the kitchen cabinet doors and wall, and cleaned them myself, with much loud muttering. I've given the loo and the bathroom a good clean, only to have my work undone by the P&J, who had somehow got oil all over the end of one leg of his jeans, and then proceeded to tread it all over the bathroom carpet, and then the landing and dining room carpets.
  I also managed to get most of the stuff we cut down the previous weekend into compost bags, which the OH took up the tip for me- but not without first telling a neighbour all about it, as though he had to carry it to the tip bag by bag, and not just dump it all in the car.
  And we did manage to get up to the allotment yesterday, to hack back the jungle that has grown up since we were last up there. It looks tidy now, though we have yet another series of alternating warm and sunny/ wet and windy days forecast, which is generally great growing weather, though, unfortunately,  for weeds and grass as well.
 The peas are looking good. I've never seen them look so lush. I'm expecting great things from them. The beetroot has disappeared- again, but some of the carrots have made it out. The potatoes look okay, except the ones next to the empty plot next door, which is evidently harbouring snails and slugs by the thousands. As are my fennel plants, which seem to be being used as a snail hotel this year, and from which the slimy creatures are attacking my onions. The snails have been evicted, and I have left word for the local thrush population to get its act together.
  The beetroot is now being raised in the greenhouse, where neither pigeon or

slug can get at them. I spent this morning transplanting them into cardboard pots (the beetroot, silly) so they can be planted without disturbing their roots, when they're big enough to have a chance of withstanding slugs and pigeons.

While I was planting, our resident blue-tit parents were busy feeding their young, which they have hatched in a hole in the apple tree I'm trying to cut down. It's rather a stupid place to raise a family ( though I am, of course, too polite to point that out to them), as the hole is within easy reach of the cat, and there could be a massacre when the fledglings try to leave. Consequently, I have wrapped some chicken wire around the tree, to make life difficult for the cat, when she's feeling better.
  Yes, the cat has not been well. She was cheerfully batting the dog around the head yesterday, but this morning she didn't want to move, didn't want to eat, and, as she's 15 years old and has been eating rats, we took her up to the vets' so I could spend another £80.
 

It turns out she has got a throat infection and a temperature, so that was 2 lots of antibiotics and a bottle of metacalm, and instructions to bring her back tomorrow if she's still not eating, or Sunday, if she's no better. Get her something tasty, he said, something that will tempt her. So we got her some of Auntie Lilly's chicken dinner. She (the cat, not Aunt Lilly) nearly took my hand off, and actually demanded the second half of the tub when she'd finished the first. So I assume the antibiotics are starting to work. Unless, of course, it is all a ruse  to get a better quality cat food...

The End Draws Near for Rat...We Hope

 The peanut butter has been spread. The traps have been set. Time is running out for Mr Rat.
 And I have to say, it is with heavy heart that I do it. I've read Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents. I know rats are intelligent and- if you can get past the numerous diseases they carry, to find out- probably jolly good company when they've had a few beers. And, truth be known, if he wasn't somehow getting into my loft space and widdling in it, I would probably let him be. But you have to draw the line somewhere, don't you? Cede him the attic, and next thing he'll be expecting a seat at the dinner table.
 We still don't know how he's getting in- if we could stop him, we could avoid killing him/them. I've been a vegetarian since my early twenties (no, I'm not going to tell you how long ago that was). I have tried all my adult life not to be responsible for the death of an animal (except mosquitos. Sorry- but it's them or me). I get angry when the kids stomp on ants and spiders. If we have a victim- or many victims, it is going to weigh heavy with my conscience. My husband's not too keen at the prospect, either. He was upset that the cat got three juveniles. "But they were so cute," he complained.
  Yes, I did consider live traps, but rats are classed as vermin and therefore are not supposed to be released into the wild. Rats also, I am told, can find their way back from up to 20 miles away. Sorry, Rat, but I am not biking 20 miles with an anxious rodent strapped to my panniers, just because you can't be bothered to stay in my neighbours garden.

 I can hear something in the attic now. I'm feeling so guilty. Perhaps I should have put chocolate down for him- the rat equivalent of a final cigarette, maybe. I'm just waiting for the thud of the trap going off...

23 May 2016. Update regarding Rat- The  Facebook conversation says it all.

 

Poor Meg

It's been a funny two weeks. And rather busy- hence no new blog for a while. Oh, nothing terrible has happened- just a constant trickle of little niggles. You know the sort of thing, I'm sure. The roofer sending his two lads around to repair my cracked tile, for example, who weren't listening/told properly what they were looking for, and so consequently searched about my roof and found something else to repair. The effort it's taking to just cut the old apple tree down.Working far too hard and long trying to get outdoor stuff done while it's warm and dry. The wearing cough I've had. And, of course, the dog.
  The dog, my dear Meg, has not been well. We awoke a week last Wednesday to large pools of vomit dotted around the house, and a clearly unhappy, disorientated, staggering dog.

  My immediate thought was that she'd had a stroke- she will, after all, be fourteen this October. However, it turned out that she has vestibular disease, which came as something of a relief, though it is rather distressing to see your dog falling over as though she's found your secret cache of cider and downed the lot. She recovered from the first episode quite quickly, but then had another one a couple of days later. This one didn't seem so bad, and Meg seemed to cope with it better. She's got some pills to take, which are supposed to increase the blood flow to the head. I'm not sure how that's supposed to help, but we're trying them for now. I've also been making her a a stir fry of sweet potatoes, beet tops, carrots, oregano and turmeric, for her dinner, with a small helping of dog food in it. She has managed to keep it down and seems to quite enjoy it.
 

The cat, it appears, has no sympathy, and has been stalking Meg in the garden, suddenly leaping out at her as she comes back to the house. The dog, bless her, patiently ignores the bats round the head the cat gives her, while the cat goes strolling off as if she's just won the British middleweight title. Perhaps she's got a bit full of herself, after her three rat haul.
  We wait to see if Meg will make a full recovery from this. If it persists, it might indicate a specific cause, which will have to be investigated. Even if there is no recurrence- at least, for a while- she may be left with a lean to one side, though hopefully, as she already seems to be doing, she'll make her own compensations to deal with it. Regardless of her current ailment, she is still keen to go for a walk and still wants to play. For now, we'll just have to hope and wait.

Natural Healers- Menopause

"The literature of menopause is the saddest, the most awful. and the most medical of genres. You're sleepless, you're anxious, you're fat, you're depressed- and the advice is always the same; take more walks, eat some kale, and drink lots of water. It didn't help." [Sandra Tsing Loh]

  The idea that you can eat your way through the menopause does seem to appeal to many, and information and advice abounds on the internet and among menopausal friend. Does it work ? Some of it, perhaps— or may at least mitigate symptoms.

  Foods that contain oestrogen, for example, may help to lessen these symptoms- soy is a well known, easily available option. A high intake of phytoestrogens is thought to explain why hot flushes and other menopausal symptoms rarely occur in populations consuming a predominantly plant-based diet.

  The leaves of Sage, which contain a plant oestrogen, make quite a nice tea, and can also be combined with fresh raspberry leaves, which are traditionally used to balance female hormones. Sage has also been used to treat heavy or irregular periods. Sage honey (made by filling a jar with sage and pouring honey over it) once left to infuse for two or three days, can be added to herbal teas and sweet dishes for a therapeutic boost. It's supposed to be quite good for the memory, too, if that's getting -er- a little unreliable.

  Fenugreek seeds are rich in diosgenin, a plant oestrogen that may ease hot flushes, anxiety and insomnia. The seeds can be sprouted like beansprouts and used as a vegetable, or made into a tea, with honey and lemon.

  Rice, surprisingly, is also thought to be good for symptoms; phytosterols in rice bran oil have been shown to help relieve hot flushes. Brown rice is the better option. The heating of rice bran oil does not appear to diminish its properties.

  Tempeh (made from fermented, lightly cooked soya beans) is high in phytoestrogens, which not only may ease menopausal symptoms, but also help protect against heart disease and cancer, and regulate immune function.

Black cohosh, the bugbane plant, may relieve hot flushes, night sweats, depression an anxiety. Do not take for more than 6 months, and note BLUE cohosh is NOT from the same plant family.

  Red Clover is high in isflavones, phytoestrogenic compounds that might help reduce hot flushes, night sweats and other symptoms. You harvest the open flower heads for drying.

  Oats and legumes contain tryptophan, which helps manufacture the neurotransmitter, serotonin. Serotonin helps moods and may help control sleep and appetite, which can make you feel better in yourself.

   Opt for more alkaline foods, like vegetables, fruits, seeds, nuts and yoghurt, to help prevent calcium being lost from bones. Eat foods high in magnesium and boron, minerals which are important for bone health and help to reduce the risk of osteoporosis. Fruit like apples, pears and grapes, as well as legumes and nuts are good sources of boron.

  And, lastly, I have to tell you that despite extensive efforts, I cannot find a reason to include chocolate, wine or coffee in this list. No, really, I tried. Truth be told, the advice is "Steer clear of alcohol, sugar, caffeine, and spicy foods, which can trigger hot flashes [and] aggravate urinary incontinence." Among other things. You're not supposed to have chocolate, either. Just forget I said that. And the bit about caffeine...