Decadence of country life....

It was pandemonium here the night before last. The sheep from next door, on noticing that the grass is always greener, escaped to our patch. Our neighbour was out, so hubby and I tried to catch the blighters, fearful they'd wander away off our land and over the common; our fields are not sheep secure.

It was hot and humid as we lashed up and down a buttercup and clover meadow... so pretty. so D.H. Lawrence, till I noticed that hubby was carrying a tin of Strongbow, supping between bouts of chasing! Chav, and he wouldn't even give me a sip!

Defeated, we waved at a friend who was off to the pub in the next village, asking him to check the hostelry for the official shepherd of said sheep. Pretty soon our neighbour reappeared with his crook. Jesus like, he ushered the prodigals back to their own field.

Later, when the kids were in bed, I wandered out to the garden to start the nightly plant-watering ritual. Coming towards me up the gravel drive was Willy the Shetland pony! He was dressed in his fly suit, complete with face and ear mask. In this get-up he looks like he's wearing armour; off to a short-person joust at any moment.

He was clearly fed up with his lonely field, (the other ponies had been taken to a show jumping event for the evening) and delightfully he'd found the gate to his field open!!! (School boy error that one!) Fortunately he was on a mission, not to escape, but rather to enter the field nearest the stables. I obliged, opening the gate for him and shutting it firmly behind his little bottom.

The animals on site are certainly full of personality.

The chickens have been on a go-slow for a little while and I've only been reaping 4 eggs a day instead of my usual 8 or 10. I cook a fair bit and swap eggs with pals at school, so I'd really like at least 10 eggs per day. Today I received a call from a friend of a friend who owns an egg farm: They have 13,000 chickens and have agreed that we can pop over on Saturday morning to pick up some of their older girls at £1 each. I'm going to let the sproglets choose two more chickens each, giving us 12 in total. Can't wait.

We finally bottled up the Elderflower champagne. It smells great but looks like scrumpy cider. We await the results. I don't think we'll even try it for about a month, although by all accounts we'll need to burp the bottles once a week, in case they explode!

Ten Months...or 40 weeks...or 300 days....approximately

The Archers have been resident at The Larches for exactly 10 months today! It's whizzed by.

Achievements:
1. All four of us are still alive. (Although the 5yo and the 7yo, have made valiant attempts to test this claim...)

2. Also alive, are eight rescued battery hens, one donated rooster and two cats. Kept warm through a pretty chilly winter, I hasten to add.

3. I am loving writing here at The Larches, and have almost finished editing my book for 9+ girls. It's called Greystone School - First Freedom and when I'm completely happy, I'll let you know more!

4. We have almost killed one very persistent 80yo wisteria ....wisteria lovers beware of thy foundations!!

5. We have met lovely horse people, who use our facilities and fields. We have also forced ourselves on the neighbours/villagers, (I think they think we're ok, mad but ok!)

6. We have purchased an ancient and stinky 4x4, which has proved invaluable

7. We have reclaimed the gardens and house, from the grips of Mother Nature ....including ridding the attic of rats, ughhh!

8. The new veg patch, plus the chickens' eggs, should help supplement our food from here on, till September. Plus, we still have the apples, stoned fruit and hedgerow fare, like blackberries, to reap and store. Husband is also learning to shoot. Thus we are beginning to see our smallholding take shape ...I'll let you know as we progress.

9. We have resisted children's pleas, to purchase a horse. (Willy the Shetland doesn't count, as he just lives here f.o.c. and for that, the babies get the occasional riding lesson from the owner)

10. WE ARE BIG-TIME HAPPY.



Failures:
1. My bottom is not as nice as Felicity Kendal's,although luckily my husband, who wears v. strong glasses, thinks it is.

Food and Will the Shetland pony

Will has come as a guest of The Larches! The children are ecstatic. I was determined not to be happy but he is sooo cute. Clearly my life of poo will be extended to horse poo. I already have a BA Hons in child poo, cow poo, chicken poo and very occasionally cat poo (the worst.)

This morning I drove to Ludlow in Dizzy Disco. Dropped the 7yo to her friend's house so that they could play at being pop stars and apply makeup badly while the 5yo and I went PROPER shopping. Having bribed him first with a handmade pizza from De Grey's the patisserie I bought myself enough time to purchase naughty desserts; creme brule, marzipan treats and fruit tarts. While the 5yo still munched happily we bought bacon at the butcher DW Wall and then we toddled off to the Monkland Cheese Shop to sample and buy local brie, a round of blue and a really delicious hard goat cheese. Interestingly The Telegraph (British National newspaper) had sent a food writer to Ludlow who was loitering with a photographer. She was glamorous and certainly knew her cheeses....as she encouraged us to spill the beans on our fave foods us food-aholics in the shop blossomed while the 5yo repeated over and over 'Can we go yet, can we go yet, can we go yet? Pleeeese..?' Heathen!





Weather's looking good for the weekend. Menu is sorted, just beds to make and then I'm going to have me a glass of something chilled in the garden before guests arrive.... Oh hang on there's someone at the door....

....My neighbour just brought Timmy round to visit. He's a tiny lamb and his mummy died. I seriously thought she was seeing if I wanted him... YES I DO, HE'S GORGEOUS! But it turns out she wants him too and he was only over for a visit....shame, but possibly a lucky escape for this year, as there's rather a lot on at The Larches...Oh well, back to the beds..

No Horses, No Ponies Thank you.

Wow we're really motoring, kicking ass in the garden department. Husband's petrol chainsaw is cooking on gas, if you'll pardon my mixed metaphor. Trees are being felled, parts of the garden revealed for the first time in 10 years. Dizzy Disco is thoroughly enjoying being a part of the gardening team as we attach a tow rope to him, driving off to pull out deep shrub roots.




The stables are really quite busy now, creating a nice steady- if little, income. All welcome. We have three very social parent/child combinations and a lovely man with a hunter and an unbroken Shetland. It's wonderful seeing the stables buzz and my two sproglets are included in mucking out, feeding and grooming. Occasionally, out of the kindness of someone's heart they are put on a horse and walked down to the menage. It's idyllic but I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF GETTING A HORSE. The plan may be to re-start riding lessons next year continuing on from where we left off in Oxford before I was thrown off and needed ankle surgery! So ABSOLUTELY NO horses for the next few years. (Just so we're clear ok?)

The kids are outside most of the time now as the bottom of the bath will testify! The 7yo, a very creative girl, has invented a new game a derivative of paintball - she rolls wet clay, the colour of diarrhea, into a neat golf-sized ball and throws it at her brother. If it hits the 5yo and leaves a mark she scores a point. Generally he thinks this is pretty funny - weirdo! I, being the gardener just use the clay and molehills for planting! Boring I know but that's just me!

The pond is an interesting spot and so far only Daddy has managed to fall in! There are pairs of common newt and millions (I do not exaggerate!) of tadpoles who have escaped the egg sack and are now being predated on by all sorts of creatures that I suspect to be aliens from another planet.

The next door neighbour took his 2 pigs for slaughter. This morning we ate sausages made from the pigs we sporadically helped feed. I'm sure they tasted so nice thanks to that huge apple crumble we gave them in October! My children are beginning to understand the concept of raising meat to eat and with this in mind we are considering raising two little lambs who are mummyless. They are currently residing in a tree farm (no they are not living in the trees silly but rather in one of their barns, raised by two young brothers.) As soon as the lambs are comfortable on the bottle we may be considered for adoption. I had THE conversation with my offspring...

'Now, you understand that we will send these lambs to market when they're older?'
The 7yo nods enthusiastically licking her lips but the 5yo sort of looks at me side-on! I continued:
'You can have one lamb and you can have the other,' I said pointing to each child.
'When we sell your lambs you can use the money we make from the meat to buy something. What would you like to buy?'
The 5yo seemed to immediately approve of this concept.
'I'm getting Star Wars Lego.'
'Good idea. What about you?'
Daughter smiled.
'I'm buying a Shetland Pony and D and L (girls with horses at our stables) are going to break it for me.'

O shit, that SO backfired.