Life lessons from a bramble bush

I am COVERED in scratches. With even the best evasion tactics and gloves, I could not avoid it. Over two days we have both had a go at a monstrous blackberry bush (bramble) that has been growing out of reach behind several other bushes and trees. It had gone nuclear so something had to be done.

Our neighbour has also tackled it from her driveway. Still it growled at us.

Half way through hacking and clipping, with overhead branches pulling my hair, and thorns ripping my wrists, I had a glimmer of hope.

There, at eye height, in one of the dense bushes, was an exquisite bird's nest. She had very cleverly parked herself out of sight, and beyond predator reach behind the thick wall of tangled thorns.

I couldn't see the nest from the lawn or the neighbour's driveway. I had to get through the thorns and the challenges of branches that were dangerous in order to see new life.

There is something sweetly victorious about this. Here's to keeping bramble bushes at bay, so that new life can grow and be nurtured.

Book illustrations 1936

I have one book from Dad's childhood. It was given to him by his god-mother, Miss Eva Creaser. She lived in the village where he was raised and was a doting member of his extended family. I met her as a child and went to garden parties in her large house.

In 1936 she gave my dad a book published by Blackie called "Read a story"

Here are some of the charming illustrations. Three of them could be prescient of his future daughter - a little girl threading beads, another one about to go on a journey and most important of all, a girl posting letters!

Grandma and the Temperance League

I am still finding tiny mysteries amongst the family ephemera. Yesterday I was looking through the few books remaining from my grandma's library. In the fly leaf of one entitled "Cradle Songs" I found the following:

Lady Aurea was the daughter of Lady Rosalind Howard, Countess of Carlisle. Lady Rosalind was a leading light in the Temperance Movement and insisted that tenants on the family estates "take the pledge". My grandmother was one such, as was her sister. I have the certificates to prove it!

Lady Aurea was older than my grandmother by a number of years. The book was given to grandma just before Lady Aurea's first marriage. But it is the date which is puzzling. Grandma was a teacher of small children (primary school age), so the subject of the book is not surprising. It is full of poems and nursery rhymes for little people. But why 4th July? This wasn't my grandmother's birthday. It could be the date she took the pledge I suppose. I am familiar with the "people from The House" giving out Christmas gifts to tenants and servants, but again, the date is wrong. Grandma also taught Sunday School in the village which was part of Castle estate. But Sunday School gifts were usually given at Easter or Pentecost.

4th of July.

I wonder why?

When a lawn becomes a meadow

Our lawn goes like crazy close to Christmas. The chap who cuts the grass for us has no hope of keeping up with it. But I love it. I love the fact that the yellow flowers attract bees and butterflies.

The season of donkeys and Gnordic gnomes

A local village holds a Christmas market every year. This year I went for a wander without Simon, who was busy catching up on a well earned lie in. I came away with German bread and vegetables, no Christmassy stuff at all, so it didn't feel any different to the usual weekly market.

But then I bumped into the donk. A few years ago, they dressed him up as a reindeer (very endearing, but a bit daft - you could tell he was embarrassed). This year he just went round and greeted the children.

On arriving home, I cleared the mailbox, which is still being 'decorated' as a penthouse by the local starlings. Inside I found a parcel from a friend on the South Island. I had seen some cute gnomes on a Facebook page, and had made a throwaway comment that if anyone would like to make me one for Christmas, I would be their friend forever. Well, not one but three Gnordic Gnomes were sitting on the straw nest in our mailbox (when I last checked the Gospels make no mention of gnomes, but hey, come one come all) They are now my "wise men" and will stay out after Christmas is over.

Who knows, I might even find them a Swedish camel a piece and a star to follow.

Paddock diary

Today was a first, I gleaned wool from the boundary of our paddock and washed it. Not sure what I will do with it when it is completely clean (this was the first wash only). I may try felting it into something.

I am also keeping an eye on our plums this year, as last year they were demolished by a variety of birds.

The fringe of the paddock is decorated this year with lots and lots of foxglove "bee apartments". So pretty.

Starlingist purges

For five years now, I have had a running battle with a family of starlings who like to nest in our mailbox. The first year we lived here, I allowed it - through ignorance.

Never again.

Getting out the nest after the birds had fledged was horrible. There were fleas, there were ticks and there was a dead bird.

It's not as if there aren't any trees or rooftops. We have 3 families of starlings in our roof and every year they make an unholy mess of the side of the house with their pooping. That's fine, it can be washed off. But I object to bird poop all over our mail, especially at Christmas.

So, in the last month I have tried a number of tactics to put off the starling. All have failed. I just took the photo below half an hour ago. I thought I had packed the fabric into the letter box well, but no, three inches of straw had been wiggled inside. The pile at the base of the box is the last two days worth.

Ask me at Christmas if we won the battle.