GRAVE MATTERS

A chance glimpse of a T.V programme last night brought back some memories that are both amusing and sad. One of the characters was burying her mothers ashes,not the most comical of circumstances and yet a similar event which involved myself some years ago was, and still is the source of considerable amusement.

At the time I was sharing several allotments with a friend, sadly ,no longer with us. One day we were taking a break from digging out a new bean trench when another plot holder. And elderly lady wandered up the path and sat down on the bench between us. She had with her. A shopping bag, holding, we thought, her lunch, but as we sat drinking our coffee we learned what she really had in her bag.

Her husband, she told us had dies a couple of years previously after a long illness, and as he had requested his body had been cremated. She went on to tell us that she had felt unable to part with the ashes but that ever since she had been keeping them in her bedroom she had been feeling creepy, she had, she said, decides to bury her late husbands remains on the allotment which they had worked together for so many years.

But there was a problem. As she herself was eighty seven she was concerned that when she died someone else might take over her plot and dig the old boy up so she had arranged with a young friend who gardened on the allotment next to hers to bury her husband on her ground under a small apple tree which she would provide.

"He didn't particularly care for apples." she explained "But they were on special at the garden centre!"

While obviously concerned for the old ladies grief the whole plan seemed very convoluted to me and fraught with possible problems. I was also aware that my friends shoulders were shaking  as he attempted not to laugh. We agreed to act as grave diggers and armed with a couple of spades and a mattock we proceeded in single file to the chosen  spot, collecting the apple tree which had been left on the pathway as we went.

We took it in turns to dig, the old lady, fearing that her husbands remains might be disturbed by future cultivation insisted upon a very deep hole indeed. The afternoon was hot,we toiled away for over an hour until I mentioned that if we dug any deeper we would be able to bury the apple tree as well.

Now, for the first time we were shown the remains, the old lady produced from the depths of her shopping bag a clear plastic box which had once contained a famous brand of chocolates(the sort which are, allegedly handed around at Ambassadorial parties!)

The effect upon us gravediggers was instant and we both resorted to severe coughing fits to disguise our amusement.

As well as the ashes the box contained a small parcel the contents of which where a mystery and since we did not like to ask they remained so.

We pleaded with the old lady to use a cardboard or even a wooden box which would ,over time disintegrate and vanish into the soil but she refused, not wishing the worms and bugs to take liberties with what was left of her husband.

We buried the box,we planted the tree, then I said a few words over the grave after which we shook hands all round and went our separate ways.

A little over a year later the owner of the impromptu tomb had decided to move to Cornwall, leaving the old lady with the dilemma of what to do about the box of ashes. She asked us if we could dig up the box and the tree and replant both on her own garden plot,which of course we agreed to do.

Another deep hole, another burial with due ceremony and once again we left the dear departed to rest in peace....again. Again we wondered about the parcel, what could it be?

Sadly, during that winter my gardening partner died leaving me to care for our four plots alone, then I heard that the old lady herself has been taken seriously ill and had been force to give up her plot. “Keep an eye on me old man.” she asked me when I went to visit her. I was never to see the old girl again.

Spring arrived and I girded up my loins to carry on single handed, I had given up two of the four plots as I felt that I could not managed them all alone. The old ladies plot was taken by a retired gentleman who needed a refuge from his nagging wife and a place to hide his beer and the cigarettes he was not allowed to smoke at home.

He did practically no gardening and the weeds flourished throughout the summer as he and his cronies sat on their deck chairs drinking their tins of beer and putting up a smoke screen big enough to hide a battleship.

This suited me right down to the ground, no need to mention the grave, I thought, you could hardly see the young apple tree for weeds.

A bout of flue kept me indoors for a couple of weeks and on my return to the allotments I saw, with consternation that the area around the grave had been cleared of weeds and the apple tree stood proudly in the clear patch. It seemed that due to a threatened visit by his wife to check on his progress he decide to make and effort to plant a few veggies.

I spoke to the owner of the plot and in a round about way tried to discover just how deep he had been digging,I was to receive my answer quickly. He went in to his shed to bring our a couple of beers and his tobacco and rolling papers,and there was the plastic chocolate box, being used now as a tobacco tin!

There was nothing to be done except to thank the Gods I did not smoke when he offered me a roll up to go with the beer.

“It's very useful.” he remarked pointing to the box. “I found it while digging under the apple tree .”he told me

“The box was full of dust.” he said “And these.” He held up a pair of false teeth!

The mystery was solved, at last. I asked the chap what he had done with the contents of the box and he pointed to a bed of newly planted tomatoes. “I tipped it out over there, and dug it in.”he explained.

Old Arthur was back on his allotment, growing tomatoes once again!

THE VILLAGE HALL

Right at the heart of our village,in more ways than one is the Village Hall, it is held in great affection by the villagers and with good reason. Much of the fund raising that goes on here(and there is a great deal of it ) donates a portion of the funds it raises to the Village Hall for it's upkeep , in return this useful building provides a venue for everything from our Doctors surgery to the Valentines Day dance.

Today was a special event, and one we have looked forward to for weeks. Our village is home to many skilled artisans ,who make their living by selling their work in the internet. Jewellery makers,perfume manufacturers, glass blowers,quilters, greetings card makers , soft toy makers to name but a few, we even have a maker of hand baked doggy treats which I ma assured are very tasty!

Today these entrepreneurs set out their stalls for the benefit of their friends and neighbours in and around the village and I must say it was an impressive show.

On our arrival at the hall my son and I made a bee line for the cake stall, it is always as well to be early at these kind of events or you find that all the best cakes have gone and you are left with the choice of either rock hard oatcakes or crumbly flapjacks. Today we were in luck and managed to purchase an orange Cointreau cake and a fruit filled tea loaf, with these important purchases made we turned our attention to the other stalls.

Christmas cards, featuring our lovely little village covered in snow were selling like hot cakes and we waited our turn to purchase several packs of assorted views. These cards are photographed and produced by a quiet young man who's talent speaks for him in no uncertain terms.

My next purchase was a pretty little coin purse, small change and wallets do not mix I find.

My son was attracted to a display of polished gemstones and fossils of which he has been a collector since a child,it took quite a time for him to decide which of the lovely stones to add to his already large collection. Mindful that Pa wished to attend and would need the buggy to do so we took a last look around purchased some raffle tickets and set off for home.

Pa was ready to leave when we arrived and when he returned we discovered that he too had succumbed to the lure of the cake stall...oh well...I shan't have to bake this week! He was very secretive about his other purchases and it will,I suspect be Christmas before we discover the contents of several interesting looking parcels.

Shortly before dinner the door bell rang, I opened up to find a neighbour on the doorstep brandishing a large bottle of Champagne,we had won one of the raffle prizes,it was a happy end to a lovely day.

During the next few weeks their will be many more such events culminating in a carol service in the ancient church,it's beauty enhanced by candle light. There in the old ornately carved pews the village will come together to celebrate,not only the birth of Christ,but the joy we all share in living in this beautiful place. Our voices will rise to the shadowy hammer beams as the voices of our ancestors have done for almost a thousand years. Many,like myself will not be Christians yet we will all have much to be thankful for and glad to have the means to express our thankfulness.

OUR MUSICAL GHOST

It would,I suppose ,be odd if a house as old as ours did not have a resident ghost. According to village gossip the house is haunted and village children are unwilling to even pass by in the lane after dark! Fortunately we are used to sharing our home with former residents and feel no fear of their presence.

Our spectral house mate is rather mischievous however, and does ,on occasion make a nuisance of himself.

It began with a strong smell of pipe tobacco in one of the bedrooms which spread along the landing until all the bedrooms were affected. From the earliest days of our residence here items would disappear in to thin air and then reappear a day or two later.

Often the missing items would turn up in the most ridiculous locations and we soon learned to stop searching for the missing objects,in the certain knowledge that they will turn up....eventually.

Vanished saucepans have reappeared in the laundry basket,missing items of clothing have been found in the desk and as for my slippers, they go AWOL so often that I feel inclined to keep them on at all times.

Rugs frequently move about in a most peculiar fashion,my bedside rug manages to move several feet away from the bed overnight even when firmly anchored by the bed post!

So far all attempts to communicate with our invisible prankster have failed although I am certain he hears me cussing when ever s vital piece of kitchen equipment or a necessary ingredient does a vanishing act.. irritating but that's all.

Now we come to the events of this morning, when I went downstairs at six thirty to make sure of a bright fire for the boys when they came down for breakfast. On arriving in the drawing room I found the cat Moth asleep on the sofa,a most unusual occurrence as she seldom budges from the vicinity of the fire in the library next door.

Then I noticed the music. Emanating from the kitchen was as nasty a dirge as ever I heard , the radio ,switched off last night in the presence of all three of us was turned on and set to play far too loudly for comfort. This is not the first time our ghost has turned on the radio or television, the last time Pa was actually in the room when it happened!

The scullery lights were on ,the light in the cloakroom was also ablaze, and as I switched them off I remarked to the ghost that until he contributed to the cost of the electric bill he could remain in darkness!!

I had dealt with the fire,opened the curtains in the office and fed the cat, before returning to my neglected bed for half and hour I stood for a moment to admire the Christmas tree, which looked very beautiful in the half light. All at once, the fairy which graces the topmost branch of the tree flew at me with considerable force and landed half way across the room.................weird... I should say so!

By now the cat had fled in to the office, I put the fairy back where she belonged. Gave the cat a cuddle then made my way upstairs.

At breakfast we discussed the matter and wondered just who our ghost had been while alive; perhaps a puritan, they had a dislike of Christmas I believe. If the villagers know they are not telling so I expect we shall just have to rub along together as best we may. As long as the old so and so does not develop a taste for my single malt whiskey he is welcome to stay around and chill...if you'll pardon the expression.

OUR CHRISTMAS BEGINS

Some weeks ago we made our plans to decorate our Christmas tree today,it fitted nicely in to our various schedules and besides we always like to begin the festivities early, then yesterday all our planning seemed wasted when I awake during the night in great pain.

I knew at once the cause of my trouble,kidney stones. Wretched nuisances, I have suffered fro the little horrors for years.

Most of the time the small stones lie quiet and cause no trouble,but from time to time one of them begins to move producing the most excruciating pain imaginable, I kid you not ,it's much worse than giving birth and goes on for longer.

More often than not I end up in hospital where intravenous pain relief (the only sort that works) can be administered, and a huge relief it is too!

I had no wish to wake the household in the middle of the night so I decided to try a medication new to me,on which helps the stone to pass through the system. It actually increases the level of pain for a while but I was desperate enough to have taken arsenic had I thought it might help.

For most of yesterday I felt unwell and did little except sit quietly drifting in and out of sleep as the pain came and went.

I went to bed last night promising the boys that if thongs were no better in the morning I would go to hospital, this time I was lucky,this time the stone Passed and by morning the pain had gone.

Even tiredness could not spoil the day,we love Christmas and our pleasure in the decorating of our tree is for us the beginning of our Christmas.

The decorations were sought, the tree place in position and the fun began, Lights, swags of beads ,baubles some of them older than myself were hung reverently upon the branches. Each decoration holds a memory for one or all of us and they are treated as old friends.

My son had found a recording of Carols from Kings College which we played as we worked, it was so lovely to be together,everyone helping to string baubles or arrange the lights.

We finished as dusk fell and the lights on the tree glowed softly in the darkening library, we surveyed our handiwork with pride and our little cat Moth sat spellbound,wide eyed and full of curiosity.

Decorating the house takes over a week as we really do go to town, The kitchen is hung with lights and clusters of baubles, banners and streamers all add the the effect. The drawing room windows will be hung with lights and the mantle piece decorated with tinsel and evergreens. Even our bedrooms are given a festive make over and we have a good deal of funny in the process.

Finding both my camera and my mobile phone with flat batteries I have been unable to photograph our handiwork,still there will be plenty of time during the coming weeks.

In the village the Holiday season begins in earnest on Saturday with a Christmas bazaar at our local school, a shopping nights at the village hall on Wednesday next and after that there are Carol services, Church fêtes and concerts, film shows and all manner of fun and games.

I am so very thankful today was not spoiled and I hope that, with luck we shall attend all the village engagements right through to the New Year.

We have all been looking forward to our first Christmas in our new home and now that it has arrived we all fell slightly unreal. As we stood around the tree this evening admiring its beauty even my grown up son's eyes were a little misty. There were times in the past year when I wondered if there would be another such Christmas for us,Tonight in the soft glow of the Christmas lights I offered up a small but very fervent prayer of thanks, for blessings received.

OUT TRUMPING DONALD

I should think just about everyone has heard of Donald Trumps shenanigans on the East Cost of Scotland. In an attempt to build a huge golf course in the middle of some of the most beautiful and sensitive coastal land he has caused much mischief.

Strong arm bully boy tactics were used to force landowners to leave their property. The local Authority, The Scottish Government and even the local police force were culpable in this unsavoury episode.

Finally Mr God Almighty Trump, King of the comb overs was defeated by the very environmental disaster he himself had created. I shall not go in to the details here as they are a matter of record so anyone who is interested can look them up.

But it is not just foreigners who pose a threat to the British countryside, we have plenty of home grown vandals to worry about. I heard today that the Barclay Brothers, a pair of would be kings have fired another salvo in their attempt to take over completely the Island of Sark. one of the Channel Islands. Not content with the purchase of Brecqhou a small island adjacent to Sark they are determined to buy up Sark as well.

Initially they began to buy up businesses on the island, restaurants,shops, even the local newspaper came under their control. Once they had gained control over the tourist industry they began to make life difficult for the Islanders.

Scurrilous news reports , some truly disgraceful were published in the local press accusing residents of unspeakable crimes, and bully boys were brought in to intimidate the Islanders. Even a television Reporter was followed around the island and was threatened by the Barclay Brothers henchmen.

They even made an attempt to take over the government of the Island which is independent and dates back many centuries, the islanders refused. That made the brothers angry.

Now the brothers have announced that they will not be opening any of the five major restaurants  on the island owned by them in the 2015 holiday season. This will put not only the restaurant workers out of their jobs but will also bring ruin to the rest of the tourist industry on the island. Guest houses, and most tourist related businesspeople suffer dreadfully because of this.

It is easy to see that the grim brothers hope that people will leave if they cannot make a living and in a free country this kind of activity is a disgrace.

It seems that they have the backing of the highest in the land as our Prime Minister and his wife are frequent visitors to the mock castle (shocking taste by the way) built by the wannabe kings on Brecqhou.

The place is like a fortress,I wonder why?

The Brothers have “previous” as they say, and are renown for buying up properties using front men to do the business. Empty properties are then listed as businesses such as Estate agencies, B Holdings springs to mind for one. In fact they are nothing of the kind,I wonder why the brothers do this? In fact why all the secrecy surrounding their comings and goings,what have they got to hide?

Ordinary folks would get a quizzing from the Inland Revenue or a visit from the Fraud Squad. They get a visit from the prime Minister of England.

Local authorities are paid off using Section 106 which is little better than a legal way to give bribes. Who else is being paid off by these characters?

People are intimidated by the wealth, the secrecy and the strong arm tactics employed by these men who are little better than gangsters, the only difference is that they are allowed to operate without let or hindrance for the law.

I have been fighting this kind of outrage for any years,and it has often cased me much trouble,but if no one speaks out them and their kind will eventually be the ruin of this country, as who;e communities and ancient ways of life cease to exist.

Might cannot be allowed to be right, there is an old saying “Evil will flourish if good men do nothing”... It's time we got off our buts and started to yell..how about it folks?

THE FIRST FROST OF WINTER

Yesterday evening the temperature took a tumble and for the first time I felt cold enough to need the radiators in my bedroom. By midnight the sky was crystal clear and the stars looked brighter than ever,I made myself a hot drink,put an extra rug on my bed and snuggled down to sleep again.

During the night a sharp frost had formed,the grey slate roof was transformed in to a glittering carpet of crystals, each one reflecting the suns rays. The lawn was white and the morning mist was rising in the valley,I stood and watched as the mist thinned and vanished as if it had never been.

My reverie was cut short by the arrival of my friendly squirrel who took advantage of my position at the window to importune for peanuts by scratching at the glass with his tiny claws. I obliged ,of course.

I hurried downstairs to wake Pa and tend the fire, the both soon stirred in to life, the one with fresh logs and the other with a cup of hot coffee. Our cleaner was expected a nine so we needed to be up and about.

The little lady arrived on time and I made sure that she had coffee and cookies before she started work ,you never saw anyone work so hard as this “Wonder woman”!

We chat a lot while she makes our home beautiful and we have become good friends.

Today we arranged that she should come to us for Christmas and bring the children as her partner will be visiting his own children in another part of the country. It will be lovely to have youngsters in the house again on Christmas day.

The business of writing Christmas cards took up most of the afternoon and I confess I find this task increasingly difficult as the years go by. Holding a pen is most painful but it is such a pleasure to choose the right card for each friend or relation that I am loath to give it up until I really must.

The whole house sparkled by the time the cleaning was done and I prepared dinner in an immaculately clean kitchen with the cat for company.

Night has fallen and the frost,which never truly went away is back with a vengeance, I shall be sure to remember to fill my hot water bottle tonight.

All is quiet in the village now, only the owls are out in the darkness about their business, the stars are out and the air is still, the vanished morning mist is creeping over the lawn towards the house like a ghost and the shrubs seem to be floating above the ground. More magic,I love it.

SUNDAY AT HOME

I know I keep on saying this but I shall never become blasé about the joy of having a real Sunday, with everyone at home,its magic.

I am really getting into the idea of having a laze on Sunday mornings and this morning it was very welcome as I spent another night looking after Pa.

We ate a late breakfast of bacon rolls and I pottered about the kitchen making trays of melting shortbread which scented the whole house wonderfully.

We all did some Christmas shopping on line and I happen to know that one of my gifts from Pa is a wonderful pastel drawing of a young Tawny Owl, furnished by a successful bid on E bay.

I adore owls and have reared several young ones over the years when their nests have been destroyed .

They are amazing creatures, rather like cats but with feathers instead of fur. I managed to return them all to the wild successfully,a tricky business, but well worth the trouble.

It has been another day of low cloud and it has also been chilly so we kept a good fire going in the library,much to the delight of the cats. The library is,I think my favourite room in the house,with its beamed walls and ceiling and of course the stove which sits in a large fireplace and gives of an amazing amount of heat.

With Christmas approaching rapidly I am in the midst of my preparations, ordering the turkey, the ham and ensuring a good supply of logs for the holiday period. I love this time of the year, especially in the countryside, where there seems to be so much more of a festive feel to things. In the city Christmas is more about shops and shopping, here there is an air of excitement for the season itself.

Even among the children, the fun of Christmas parties,carol singing and making decorations seems to take presidence over the thoughts of gifts.

Soon we shall be putting up our tree but first there are several hospital visits to get through,once these are over with we shall be able to enjoy the festivities even more.

It can be quite a business getting to hospital and between us Pa and I visit three different ones. If we are lucky the hospital sometimes provides transport,otherwise we rely on taxi's to get us about as neither Pa nor myself are able to us the bus. Hospital days are tiring and I shall be glad when the final round of visits for this year is done.

Tomorrow, for various reasons, we all need to make an early start,so an early night is on the cards. Hopefully Pa will be able to sleep tonight as we could both do with a spell of undisturbed sleep. What ever happens it has been a lovely day,mat there be many,many more.

OF MICE AND CATS

I believe I have mentioned our rodent problem in and earlier epistle. I have lived in many ancient houses in my lifetime and all of them had the occasional visit form the odd mouse,but this place, is in a different league.

Once upon a time our house had a thatched roof,but at some time back in the middle of the last century this was removed and replaced with welsh slate. This would have been done with the intention of giving the house a roof which did not require replacing every twenty five years or so,regrettable ,but understandable.

Even so I would like to get my hands around the throat of the “artisan” who carried out this act of vandalism, for his workmanship while weather proof is , even more regrettably,not mouse proof!

Changing the mature of a house roof is a tricky business of the best of times and changing thatch to tile or slate is fraught with difficulties and gives rise to a range of problems,why folks do it I cannot imagine.

Enough of this frippery.

In short another mouse,or perhaps even a rat has chosen to die somewhere in our loft. This is a very large area and a thorough search of the place a couple of weeks ago when we had the first plague ,revealed nothing but a mass of dead flies.

The flies which are plaguing us at the moment are very much alive and have defied numerous attempts to kill them. I think this is due to the flow of fresh air through the attics ,lets face it ,if a mouse can get in there so can a draught!

From time to time we her the little perishers scuttling about and this drives our cats demented and I have now reached the conclusion that the best remedy would be to put our cats up into the loft for a while and let nature take it's course!

This morning while I was deliberating the merits of this seemingly foolproof plan one of our cats ran in through the cat flap carrying a very large and very angry mouse,which it released as soon as it entered the kitchen,whereupon it promptly vanished behind a heavy monks bench.

The cat searched for its missing trophy for about ten minutes then gave up the chase and went to sleep before the fire!Very tiresome but also typical of our lazy moggies.

Later I observed the cute little mite sitting on the cooker hob washing its whiskers!

I detest the use of poison and I hate traps, so , what remains? My son tells me that there are now electronic gadgets which prevent mice from taking up residence by emitting a sound unpleasant to the mouses ear. I shall embrace technology and purchase one of these in the hope that it will send the little pests running before they have the chance to give up the ghost in our loft.

If this fails I shall purchase a ferret,the most efficient mouse killer known to man,In any event I do not intend to be defeated by these furry interlopers,cute though they be,they will have to go.

I have spoken!!

NIGHT SHIFT

As often happens after a trip to hospital Pa is unable to sleep night. He is in a good deal of pain ,poor boy and has given up lying in bed,unable to catch any sleep. When I got up a short time ago  to check on him I found him sitting in his study surrounded by railway magazines and keeping company with the cat Twiggy!

After a cup of hot chocolate he feels a little better and I have persuaded him to go down to the library where the fire is still burning and where there are comfy reclining chairs. Our other cat moth is delighted with these arrangements and will take full advantage of the unexpected company I am sure.

Snuggled up in a fleece blanket and with the fire stirred in to life he finally managed to get comfortable and by the time I had drunk a mug of coffee he was fast asleep.

I am, by now quite used to staying awake for most of the night,fortunately I do not seem to need a great deal of sleep. Pa's medication can cause him to become confused, especially at night and so he needs to be watched over on nights like this.

LATER

It is now three in the morning,outside it is a still and quite as only a country village can be yet within an hour lights will start to appear from the hill farms all around as the farmers begin their busy day with the task of milking their cows, but for now it feels as if I am the last soul on earth.

LATER STILL

Every morning at around eight I wake the men folk with a cup of coffee,when my son took a cup down to the library for Pa he was still fast asleep. Feeling rather rusty I took mine back to bed and treated myself to half an hours R and R before breakfast.

My son has just finished his latest book which is at the moment in the hands of the Beta Readers, prior to publication. He starts another on Sunday so he too took advantage of the chance for an extra hour in bed. The morning was one of the soft grey kind with a white mist shrouding the hills around the village,it was as quiet as a Sunday, the road is still closed so the only traffic noise is caused by delivery drivers and people from the next village needing the shop and desperate enough to do the six mile detour in order to reach it.

Today has been a family day. We ate breakfast while watching the news on a small T.V. In the kitchen,spent the day, pottering about the house,a little desultory cleaning and preparing dinner together,which we always enjoy.

I also  made a large batch of potato cakes for tomorrows breakfast from yesterdays left over mashed potatoes

The soft grey morning turned rapidly in to a dark rainy day,the sort of day when you leave the lights on, very soon it was dark again and we drew the curtains to shut out the cold and dark.

For dinner I cooked an enormous shoulder of mutton,the oven in the kitchen range was only just wide enough to take it and at one point I thought I should have to stand it on end to roast it.

We still have one more feast day before Christmas and that is the roast beef dinner for Pa's birthday in early December. When he was a child his birthday was always a low key affair because of it's nearness to the Holiday so now we make it up to him with his favourite meal and lots of gifts,he's such a dear and we love him to bits.

Well I have waffled on quite long enough,time for a shower and I hope the good nights sleep which escaped my last night, I have a little dreaming to catch up on!

ROAD UP!

On Tuesday we awoke to find that the road between our village and the next had been close for maintenance. We had received no official warning of this,there had been rumours,but that's all.

The road closure has made for an interesting few days with no buses in to town and endless problems for delivery drivers who find it hard to locate our tiny village at the best of times.

Pa has a hospital appointment today and will have to take a taxi,then do a very long detour round the county lanes in order to reach his destination, that's going to cost! The poor fellow who delivered our meat yesterday went on a mystery tour and got hopelessly lost. Sat Nav does not work in these parts and mobile phone reception is almost none existent.

He finally arrived about an hour after dark, we had been expecting him in before lunch!

I had better not repeat the remarks of a courier who rocked up with several parcels having spent two hours travelling for half a mile,he was hopping mad and it took quite a lot of shortbread to calm him down, poor soul.

Today were expecting our grocery delivery and this produced still more fun and games , thankfully I filled the cookie jar with toffee biscuits recently,they were needed.

In spite of these minor difficulties I love living in the countryside, our lovely little village is so tucked away among the hills that even the most persistent of tourists cannot find us and we are spared the mess they often leave behind after pick-nics, or worse, barbecues which often cause fires on the heather covered hills in dry weather.

The village church is very old,the tower was built over eight hundred years ago, recently during some renovation work some wonderful old 13th century wall paintings were discovered. They had been painted out on the orders of old Henry 111V after he booted out the Pope and reformed the church. What an old rip he was!!

My family have connections in this part of the world although there are some,and I am one of them who think it would be better if my ancestors had never set foot in the Shire.

During the English Civil War (about the same time our home was built) one of my ancestors, fought for King Charles 1 while his eldest son fought for the Parliamentarians.

Such was this young man's belief in his cause that he took a huge canon called “Roaring Meg” and blew up every one of his fathers castles and manor houses in Cheshire and Staffordshire,about six or seven of them I believe. In so doing he destroyed his own inheritance and left my my branch of the family stony broke!

Not content with this he then turned his attention to Shropshire and blew up both Shrewsbury Castle and Montgomery Castle with the same damn canon.

Needless to say we do not advertise our relationship to this vandal locally!

This morning the sky was pearly grey,exactly the same shade as the feathers of the pretty collared doves which haunt our garden. As I drank my morning coffee by the window at first light, a big Tawny owl who had finished hunting for the night, flew in to a large conifer tree at the bottom of our garden.

I was not alone in noticing his arrival and soon the air was filled with the sound of angry birds scolding the owl and warning each other of his presence. When a pair of Magpies arrived and led the others in mobbing the poor old owl he decided to bug out and flew away I hope he found a safe and quiet place in which to sleep away the day.

Pa returned from hospital with another round of appointment for next month,luckily they did not do anything too awful to him this time.

It is becoming chilly now so I think I shall bank up the fire for the night,feed the cat and then snuggle up in bed and watch a movie...........lovely.

The family photographs appear by request.

I hate having my picture taken, even my mother complains that she has very few photographs of me, but since you ask,here it is Top picture my son Rick, the next one is of me and the last one is Pa, 

A TASTE OF OLD ENGLAND

I have never understood the prevailing belief that some how mutton is an inferior meat when compared to lamb. Now don't get me wrong,lamb is tasty,especially Welsh Mountain or Salt Marsh Lamb,but at this time of the year the flavour of Mutton, weather roasted casseroled or boiled is by far the tastier meat and it costs much less.

Mutton, like many meats has it's season,it is a meat for the winter months a rich mutton stew on a cold day takes a lot of beating. Of course you can make the same stew with lamb but it cannot hold a candle to the hearty warming plateful which mutton produces.

A slowly roasted shoulder of mutton has no equal and can hold up it's head among such joints as fore rib of beef of roast suckling pig , and ,here is the best part, for a fraction of the cost.

I ordered half a sheep on Monday and today it arrived, expertly jointed and safely packaged in a large cool box. For the sum of £88.00 including the delivery charge I received a whole leg of mutton cut in to two joints, a whole shoulder weighing nine kilos, five kilos of casserole meat,a breast of mutton boned and rolled and a large bag of enormous mutton chops, real value for money.

I have served roast mutton to guests many times and they always say that it tastes like the meat they remember from their childhood and so it does.

Tomorrow we shall have a casserole with lots of lovely winter veggies,leeks ,swede and parsnips,chunks of carrot and sliced onion all in a rich mutton gravy and some creamed potatoes ,a real winter meal. Pa has to go to hospital tomorrow for some less than pleasant tests and he is looking forward to his meal when it is all over.

My son finished his latest book today and so we have decided to have a celebration feast on Friday to celebrate, roast shoulder of mutton with dauphin potatoes is on the menu the left overs will be frozen and will eventually make a shepherds pie, mutton pies and Scotch broth all family favourites here. This one joint will provide between twelve and fifteen between twelve and fifteen servings, for less than £20.00!

Give mutton a try, shop on line where the choice is great and the prices competitive,affordable treats are rare these days and a taste of old England was never easier to enjoy.  

VILLAGE MATTERS

Out home village is the sort of traditional English village one reads about in Agatha Christie novels. It is the sort of place that although it embraces,(as best it can for the dreadful reception) ,such things as mobile phones and the internet ,while retaining all it's old world charm.

The village school, the church ,the chapel,post office, shop and pub are the focus of activity and as in all villages the village hall is of paramount importance to the community,.

Where else would the W.I. Hold there meetings, where would the Gardening Club hold there many events. Lectures, dances ,film shows and karaoke,Christmas bazaar’s plays and concerts all take place within its walls.

Even the Doctors Surgery is houses this useful building ,so as you can imaging the loss of this much loved and much used facility would be catastrophic.

Funds are raised in many ways,one of which is the Village Newsletter, a marvellous institution which advertises all the forthcoming events to be held in the hall and elsewhere in the community and the surrounding villages. It advertises local businesses and form a a contact

with such bodies as the Local Police and our Local Councillor who contribute articles each month.

The Bowling Club announce their victories and coffee mornings in aid of many charities are advertised in this great little magazine which I recently discovered is run by one lady all by herself!

This brave soul also holds down a job at the village shop and is reluctantly about to relinquish her role as editor, distributor ,advertising manager for the magazine. This means that unless someone can be persuaded to take it on the magazine may be lost.

This was mentioned ,casually to me a few days ago when I popped in to have an announcement placed in next months publication.

Until my son became a full time writer he was and editor, he spent every night editing financial reports ,so this to him would be a piece of cake. I suspect that his literary abilities have been much discussed in the village since our arrival so that he would be the obvious person to ask.

Of course he is very busy, he is about to publish his eighth book this year and the ninth will be out by Christmas, and yet he,like myself is keen to give back something to the village which has made us so very welcome.

We have decided to have a meeting with the present editor to ascertain just what is involved and if it is at all feasible we shall split the job between the two of us,|I shall deal with the advertising and my son will be the Editor.

I do hope that we shall be able to take this on as I have come to rely on the magazine for information about everything from trades men's phone numbers to information about things such as Flue Vaccination Clinics.

This months magazine will be the last until February so we have a couple of months in which to discuss the matter and make up our minds. In the mean time there are the concerts carol services, and Christmas bazaars to attend, all of which have been advertised in our village magazine.

GETTING THE PIP

Getting the pip is an old fashioned expression which means a bad attack of the gallops,Montezuma's

revenge, the trots....call it what you will. Having spent over twice as long as it is supposed to take to obtain an assessment for the Personal Independence Allowance,P.I.P I find the analogy most appropriate.

This allowance is paid to people ,who are,like myself disabled in such a way as to make independent living very difficult ,even impossible. It has always been difficult to persuade the D.W.P to part with cash but since the Conservative Government chose to treat the Disabled, the Elderly and the Unemployed like a bunch of cheats and loafers it has become well nigh impossible even to get an assessment.

Today the long awaited assessment took place. Every corner of my private life was examined,and my personal problems will now be weighed in the balance by a bunch of soulless bureaucrats who get paid by the Government to ensure that as few people as possible obtain this much needed relief.

Not for nothing is the company which does these assessments called Capita for I am told that they are paid,per capita for the number of people they turn down.

Although this may not be entirely true what is certain is that not only are new applicants being turned down in droves but people who have been severely disabled for years are having their payments cut to the bone or even in many cases revoked all together.

It is all a part of this benighted Governments “Back to Work” programme.

Here is a fairly typical example of this nonsensical new rule.

I severely disabled woman living in a rural has been receiving the allowance in order to be able to afford to buy  and run a specially adapted car. This enabled her to drive in to town to work,she had been able to support herself for years with no further Government aid.

Suddenly this benefit was stopped,the result was that she could no longer afford to run the car and pay her rent along with other household expenses. She was forced to give up her job and now relies on unemployment benefit,housing benefit and other government aid. Which is costing the tax payer far more that her original benefit.

The D.W.P not content with the havoc they have created in this woman’s life are now considering weather or not to cut her unemployment benefit because.....wait for it …...she is disabled and unable to work!

Now some of you may think that I am exaggerating, not so.

Shortly after the new regulations came in to force an undercover journalist posing as a new employee secretly filmed his initial briefing. He was instructed to disbelieve everything he was told and only pass so many people a week as disabled enough to receive help because. “They are just a bunch of scroungers.”

I must say that the lady who did my assessment seemed very kind and understanding but it will not be she who decides my fate. Nor will it be the doctors and consultants who have treated my worsening health over the years. My fate will be decided by the afore mentioned faceless bureaucrats. It will be they who decide if I deserve help with the cost of transport, or help towards the cost of special; equipment,even my qualification for a disabled badge allowing any vehicle I use to park in no parking areas will be decided by these.........people.

Since I am unable to walk more than a few yards you would think it a foregone conclusion...not necessarily. I am at present a prisoner, unable to leave the village as I cannot use public transport. Unable to visit my ninety year old mother because I cannot use trains. Disabled people, weather town of country dwellers can all to easily become trapped in their own homes.

Next time you hear someone complaining about the money given to people like me remember that what has happened to me could happen to any one at any time.

Oh, and please wish me luck.

EARLY MORNING VISITORS

On my birthday this year I received from a friend a beautiful bird feeder of the type that can be attached to a window pane. When we arrived here back in August I positioned it at once on one of my bedroom windows,filled it with a of meal worms seed and peanuts, and waited for visitors.

As is usually the case it took several weeks for the gardens bird population to become accustomed to their new fast food joint but eventually ,first the Robin,then Blue Tits,Chaffinches and Sparrows began to patronise my establishment.

In recent days I began to notice that the food was vanishing very quickly,I suspected squirrels and this morning my suspicions were confirmed.

I woke early and decided to do write some letters before breakfast,from time to time the sound of scuffling,rattling and a tapping on the windows distracted me so I went to look out of the window.

There was nothing to be seen and I thought that I might as well fill the bird feeder whilst the window was open,as I opened the tin a large squirrel appeared round the corner of the gable and stopped for a moment to consider it's safety. I reached out to the feeder ,my hand filled with nuts and the squorrel made a leap,landed on my arm and then bounced into the bedroom, I don't know which of us was the most surprised at this turn of events.

It sat on a chest of drawers regarding me with a mixture of fear and curiosity,then it noticed the peanut tin close by and fer was overcome at once by it's love of peanuts and it spent quite a time with it's head inside the tin.

Another squirrel appeared on the feeder and was chased away by my visitor in very short order. He returned several times to the tin before the chilly morning air forced me to close the window,having first filled the feeder.

Our squirrels have become very tame during the Autumn as there is an enormous nut tree by the kitchen window,every time the visit this tree they see us at close quarters so that gradually they have ceased to be at all afraid of either us or our cats

Personally I think that becoming blasé about the moggies is a great mistake, only time will tell if I am right.

In the mean time I am happy tp be entertained by these adorable little creatures  

A LAZY DAY ALL ROUND

For some reason we were all very tired this morning, I got up late, my son got up even later and I practically had to use a shoe horn to get Pa out of bed at all!

We ate a quick breakfast so as to be finished before our lovely cleaning lady arrived. I had seen her yesterday and was a little concerned as she looked tired and I knew that on Sunday she had a long drive ahead, so it came as a relief when decided not to spend several hours turning my house in to a show place of neatness.

Instead of working we drank coffee and chatted,ate cookies and looked at photographs. She had brought her partner with her and it was fun just to sit around the kitchen table joking and laughing while my poor son beavered away at his latest book. Pa does not get out much and I am always glad when he can enjoy some male company and,it does him good to have a laugh.

They are such a lovely couple and right from the first they were welcoming and very kind to us,it is through them that we met othes people in the village and we certainly owe them both a debt of gratitude.

After they left I made a few preparations for tonight's dinner and then Popped around to visit them as they had been kind enough to ask me while they were here. I really enjoyed my visit and I must say that it is a pleasure to have a day just visiting and being visited,no chores, no housework,,,it has been a lovely day.

                                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

To my delight and astonishment the collared doves of which I am so fond are becoming quite tame and this morning came to the bird feeder on the window outside my bedroom ,they did not seem to mind as I watched them from the other side of the glass. They then spent the afternoon prospecting for food on the front lawn,I hope to provide these charming birds with a small Dove cote in the New Year.

STORMY WEATHER

What a night! I was awakened at about two in the morning by what sounded like a train racing past my bedroom window. The cat Twiggy was clawing at my bedroom door and the moment I opened it she shot under the bed and did not come out until morning.

A storm had blown up and was tearing at the trees and redistributing all the dustbin lids in the parish! As I made myself a coffee a terrific crash sent me to the window which I foolishly opened, I was unprepared for the strength of the wind or the volume of sound and \i was lucky to retain my grip on the window which I closed again at once.

Out in the lane people with flash lights were examining something in the road and their voices carried across the lawn as they shouted over the still rising wind. Concerned .I donned my dressing gown and went down stairs to see what was the matter and to check on the fire in the library. My son's cat moth was sleeping undisturbed on the hearth rug, the fire was blazing,the bright flames lighting the room and in the chimney the wind roared like an angry dragon.

I decided to keep an eye on things for a little while and settled down in a comfy armchair until an loud rattling coming from the drawing room caused me to struggle to my feet and investigate.

The noise was coming from the flue which rattled and shook alarmingly. We are waiting for the flue to be repaired as the collar was slightly loss,last nights wind hsd torn the remaing seal away and I was relieved that there was no fire in the stove. Assured tha all was as safe as I could make it I hobbled back to bed and thankfully fell asleep at once.

The consequence of my disturbed night was a late start to the morning when I wa awakened by the Postman hammering on the front door and ringing the doorbell for good measure,(the next time I tell you have quiet the countryside here is kick me someone!)

Feeling rusty I made a batch of piklets for breakfast, and we discussed the nights events as we ate. What ever had been going on in the lane during the storm had left no evidence,but I heard later that a neighbours hen house had blown away at the hight of the gale,I expect that the flashlight wavers were rounding up the refugees!

I visited the shop during the afternoon for supplies,here and there were evidences of the nights blow,in a hedge behind the church a few small articles of clothing fluttered in the wind and a disconsolate chicken pecked half heartedly at a paper bag.

I spent the afternoon baking cookies, my cleaner is coming tomorrow and she sometimes brings her children,she is a good friend and I like to have something special for her coffee breaks,I hate to think what I should do without her help.

Now it is dark again,we have feasted on macaroni cheese and partaken of the toffee cookie I made earlier. At the moment all is calm outside and long my it remain so. I am off to take a shower and then ,my cosy bed, much neglected last night awaits and I shall not keep it waiting long.

BAKING OUR CHRISTMAS CAKE

In spite of the fact that I set my alarm in order to be up early,I still managed to oversleep this morning. Ordinarily this would not be a problem but today I needed to have breakfast cleared away early in order to have the kitchen table free for the making of our Christmas cake.

For me the making of this cake is the crown of the years baking. Always a time consuming business these days it takes much longer as my arthritic hands are clumsy, which make me work more slowly.

Nothing daunted I pressed on and by one thirty the cake was safely in the oven and the nail chewing began. My oven here is an old one and is inclined to be a little erratic at times,add to this the fact that I have baked very little since arriving at our new home and the problem becomes clear.

Last week,as an experiment I bake a Farmhouse fruit cake for Pa and it came out perfectly,a good sign,and yet the difference between this lightly fruited cake and the rich fruit and nut laden creation I baked today is great.

Following my old recipe I managed all the thermostat adjustments mostly by guess work and by the smell coming from the cake as it baked. A cake such as this in the oven for a long time and the chances of overcooking,drying out or sitting down in the middle are greater than with any other cake and I don't mind telling you that it gave me the Jim-Jams all afternoon.

After two hours the final temperature adjustments were made and a covering of foil(to prevent over browning) was place over the cake and there was nothing more to do except pour myself a glass of Scotch and exhort the gods to be kind.

I distracted myself by making a large cottage pie for dinner......and poured another Scotch...any excuse is a good one ,as my Father used to say!

All went well,four and a half hours after being placed in the oven out it came and it was perfect...what a relief! I feel that to a certain extent my success was more a matter of luck than judgement ,but what the hell,Pa will have his Christmas cake and I can stop worrying.....for the time being.
                                                       AVIES CHRISTMAS CAKE

Actually the original recipe is quite a lot older than I am , I have modified it slightly as we all detest currants,nasty bitter crunchy little things,the recipe contains 32oz of fruit , so long as the amount remains the same you can add more or less of the main ingredients to suit your families taste...even the dreaded currants!


8 oz butter

8 oz soft brown sugar

1 tablespoon of black treacle

grated rind and juice of 1 lemon

9 oz plain white flour

1 level teaspoon of baking powder

1 level teaspoon of mixed spice

a little grated nutmeg

a pinch of salt

8 oz sultanas

8 oz raisins

8 oz mixed peel

6 oz glacé cherries halved

2 oz crystallised ginger chopped

2 oz chopped whole almonds

2 oz ground almonds

5 eggs

Line an 8” square or a 9” round baking tin with a layer of foil and a layer of greaseproof paper lightly oiled on both sides,line both the bottom and the sides of the tin and cut the paper 2” wider than the hight of the tin. Tie a double thickness of brown paper round the outside and secure with string. 

Heat oven to 325oF

Cream the butter,sugar treacle and lemon rind together.

Sift the flour,mixed spice,nutmeg and salt,then beat the eggs until frothy.

Add half of the beaten egg five tablespoons of the flour and half of the fruit and nut mixture and beat in.

Add the remaining egg and the rest of the dry ingredients together with the lemon juice,this time stir in thoroughly, do not beat!

Spoon into the tin and smooth the surface of the mixture, then with the back of a tablespoon make a shallow well in the middle of the cake,this will ensure a flat topped cake which is easier to ice.

Place in the oven and reduce the temperature at once to 300oC and bake for one and a half hours.

During the next 30 minutes gradually reduce the temperature by degrees to 275oC and cover with a piece of foil. Cook for a further 2 hours then using a metal skewer check to see it the cake is done ,if the skewer comes out of the cake sticky give it 30 minutes more cooking time.

Remove from the oven and leave to cool overnight in the tin.

Next day wrap the cake in foil and store. If you wish you may feed the cake with a small glass of rum,brandy or scotch every three weeks by pricking the cake with a cocktail stick and pouring the spirits over the top of the cake then wrap in foil as before. This recipe is not as complex as it sounds,and is wonderfully moist. Decorating the cake comes later,good luck.