May 1, 2008
Ruddy cold I should think. I was quite shocked at how quickly and dramtically this sheep had lost it’s wool so guess what? Yes, I phoned the farmer for one of my classic “twit in the country” conversations.
Me: hello, it’s plumsource here from up in the village.
Farmer: Oh yes, hello (was that his eyeballs I heard rolling?)
April 26, 2008
The spinning lady called me back! She left a message. I don’t think she was stifling her laughter. I can hold my head up high now as I collected some more wool last night and I now have pretty much a whole carrier bag’s worth – woo hoo!
April 25, 2008
I was going to show you my wool:
but there’s a problem uploading images at the mo, for some reason. Will insert it when I can…
Still no answer from the spinner lady to my email or tel message. Perhaps she’s still rolling (or spinning) about on the floor laughing at how little wool I have and can’t get to the phone / computer.
During one of my rare ironing incidents the other day, I was looking for a means of occupying R and aware that it couldn’t be “ironing like mummy” because she doesn’t have a mini iron / board (funny that??). Came up with the idea of tying up a bit of string to make her own mini washing line which she absolutely loved. She spent ages figuring out how to hang her dollies’ clothes with the mini pegs. I was so chuffed that I came up with something so simple and engaging instead of turning on the telly. (more…)
April 21, 2008
Inspired, by this blog, I’m officially on my way to being Felicity Kendall / Barbara Good from “The Good Life”. I’ve got half a carrier bag of stray sheep’s wool! The sheep in the next field seemed really cross that R & I were stealing the fleecey bits their neighbours had left behind on thorns, brambles and fences. They were Baa-ing really loudly and pacing backwards and forwards indignantly. I tried explaining respectfully “look, you and your friends don’t need this wool any more and us humans can make things out of it to keep us warm.” No effect. Still more staring and aggressive baa-ing. I tried the diplomatic route, “What lovely wool! Thank you very much”. More narky baa-ing. R started crying, so we packed up (not before “mummy get’s this big fluffy bit over here” though). No. The sheep didn’t win actually. We were going in for our lunch anyway, OK?? (more…)
April 19, 2008
I spent a very dreamy day pottering and pootling around yesterday. It is the second day I’ve done this, this week. R was in nursery both days and I just faffed about doing nothing in particular. This is my idea of heaven. I felt so terribly guilty about it though that I couldn’t relax 100% and confess to jumping to attention a few times Mr. P came down from his office – making out I was being busy! I was recently saying to a friend that the sort of “day off” I crave is being at home doing absolutely zilch and how nice it was too. I spent some of the time eating, some of the time looking out at our birds and animal neighbours, much of the time thinking and alot of the time on the computer reading and writing about random things. This is the story of my life: to the undiscerning onlooker, it may appear that I’m a lazy bugger yet really I’m ever so busy mentally. Yeah right! (more…)
April 3, 2008
I saw an unfamiliar fella in our back field this morning. He had a sheepdog with him and they chased some sheep into the corner of the field like they were on a mission. I didn’t recognise him, and he hadn’t come down the lane, which is the only route our farmers take. I whipped out the binoculars to see what was going on.
He managed to seperate one of the lambs from the family group and quick as lightening, grabbed it and carried it in his arms pronto to the edge of the field. He took off with such speed and I heard a sound like a quad bike revving off in the other direction. I was upset - “SOMEONE’S JUST NICKED A LAMB!” I got on the phone to the farmer, while wondering how much a “poached” fattened lamb would fetch, as he was bound to be selling it on for someone’s Sunday lunch. Well the farmer just pee-ed himself laughing at my ludicrous story. “It’s the farmer from next door” he said. “His lambs keep getting through to our field so he’s just come to fetch it back”. Do you think I have an overactive imagination or am simply living up to my title of “Twit in the Country”?
Reminds me of the time just after we’d moved here from the city. I could hear one of the sheep coughing through the night and was convinced it was dying (sheep make a blimmin weird noise when they cough). The farmer couldn’t believe I’d called him urgently on his mobile the next morning to tell him one of his vast flock had a tickly throat! Thankfully he takes my silly city ways with good humour.
Just as the “suspected poaching” incident was over, I saw this little fella stalking the sheep.
Thankfully he didn’t attack any of them that I could see but I expect him and his friends will be back tonight… (more…)
April 1, 2008
I worked with a TV Director once, who used to insist on having a smoke machine on every shoot with him. At the time, I thought he was a prima donna, especially as we were only making quite a cruddy programme on where folks should holiday in the southeast of England. I re-thought my opinion of him during my run this morning (I’m sure he’s been worrying about it all these years obviously). I looked up to see this amazing effect, where the sunlight was diffused across the whole sky, shining through the haze of the morning mist. My description won’t do it justice and I didn’t have my camera on me. I think the technical term might be “diffused light” or something (photographers help me out?).
I started to understand why artists and photographers get inspired to capture such things. My friend says her daughter looks different when she’s at our house. I’m sure it’s all in the light - we live at the top of the hill, they live down the shadier bottom.
Talking about being on the top of the hill, it’s blimmin windy today isn’t it? I thought my sheets could do with a bit of an airing. It was like something out of a bad 70s sitcom trying to peg them out on the line with them flapping and whipping in my face. Then continuing in the frank spencer / selwyn froggit vein, my laundry bag blew away and got stuck on top of a hedge. It was threatening to blow off and away down valley but for one thorn that was holding it in place.
Cue R & I whooping, laughing, shouting and running about trying to find a long stick and banging into eachother because our hair was blowing into our eyes. I managed a quick snap before do the rescue op. It was very exciting. Well, for us. Two of our resident dog walkers were watching the lambs nearby but missed all the hullabaloo because the wind was whistling so loudly in their ears.
March 20, 2008
I’ve been a vegetarian for so long now (nearly 25 years!) that sometimes when people ask me why, I have to pause for a minute to remember what prompted me in the first place. It’s because I don’t like the idea of eating animals. I think animals are sentient beings and I literally can’t stomach (or chew and swallow) someone else’s flesh. (Sensitive types should probably not scroll down…)
I think it’s easy not to associate the whole living animal with the prepared cuts of meat you see in their little trays at the supermarket or in the butchers window. I’ve desensitised myself to an extent. I can cook meat for Mr P & R without too much thought. Granted, I don’t like handling the raw stuff much and hate the smell and drips of blood left in the wrapping etc but I’ve got quite adventurous about cooking bigger joints etc recently. I’ve even driven over the hill here a couple of times to buy a lamb’s leg direct from the organic farm and felt pleased that I’d sourced it pretty much fresh from the field in a consumer conscious Hugh Fearnley kind of way. This is the stuff you get at all the top London eateries don’t you know, and it’s from just over our hill (etc etc)
I have been pushing it to the back of my mind that these things are parts of animals. Last night I was thinking about our Easter weekend menu. We have a friend visiting so I’ll probably do a joint of meat. Oh yes, lamb is traditional at Easter. We’ve had lamb quite a lot recently so maybe not BUT HANG ON!!! I’m thinking about cooking and serving up one of those lambs that I’ve been coo-ing at all week from the kitchen window??
THAT’S when I remembered why I don’t eat meat. I started to think about the cuts of meat I’d bought and imagining them as the legs and shoulders of the lambs in our field.
No. That’s too hideous. How could I have cooked a lamb? How can anyone eat a lamb?
As if that wasn’t enough of a reminder, I walked passed a butcher’s van in town this afternoon. I didn’t know that it was a butcher’s van. That is until my face came within a few inches of a whole pig hanging upside down with it’s head cut off. It was just hanging on a rack out the back of the van, right there in the street. It had all it’s legs, trotters and it’s curly tail there. Just no head. It was a dead body.I’m so glad R was looking the other way. I could see several folk going green catching sight of it and then averting their eyes at the horror. When it’s all butchered and minced though, I bet we’ll all enjoy the smell of those lovely sizzling sausages.
The pig pic (right) is from an interesting article about a person’s experience butchering a whole pig and processing the various parts for sausages etc. Well if you can eat pork after all that, fair enough.
March 13, 2008
Was SO excited yesterday afternoon when the landrover & trailer ambled into the back field and several ewes and spring lambs wobbled out. I was alone in the kitchen but gasped out loud “Wow! Look! We’ve got lambs!! Ahhhhhhhh!” Bang went any thoughts of doing work or household chores. What is it about lambs? They are so captivating. So cute. So tiny. So white (more…)
