Wonderful weekends....

Friends came for the weekend and we had a lovely time in the hot, hot sun....that's not even a joke. Shropshire IS the new Caribbean! It must have almost reached 20°. (Shut-up those of you in warmer climes! That IS too Hot!!) We barbecued, we drank all the chilled Prosecco and a delicious bottle of Taittinger (thank you guests.) We were so relaxed that there was no head-throbbing in the mornings either.

On Saturday we explored Ludlow - to be highly recommended. The farmers market stalls oozed cheeses, olives and scrummy meats, although the hand-knits seemed wholly inappropriate for the heat-wave. We ate ice-creams and I brazenly stripped off jeans, football sox and boots to reveal milk-bottle legs which I dabbled in icy river water in a really successful quest for fishies. The kids finally prised their fishing net from my cold wet grasp - spoil sports!




The only bit I'm regretting now is the climb to the top of Ludlow Castle. http://www.ludlowcastle.com/ Oh. My. God! I have hurt muscles I never even knew I had, my legs and bottom are killing me! I now know that I would have been a rubbish servant girl in the olden-days. I could NOT have run up and down those stairs all day fetching and carrying. No sir-eee. I'd have been fired from my position (or thrown in the danky-dungeon or drowned as a witch probably) for putting my hands on my generous hips and saying 'Sod off you lazy git, get it yer bloody self!'

Kissing a Rooster.....

The children seem to have decided that the rooster is way too aloof. He's positively stroppy in the mornings if I'm late from my bed, (it is the Easter Holidays AND I've got a code in my dose.achoo!) But does he care? No. He squawks at me nastily as I open his hen house door and struts around looking like Kellogg's evil twin.

The 5yo and the 7yo have captured him and are stroking and kissing him. Usually I'd tell them to put him down. He looks really cross, his comb is bright red and wobbling. But as he's been snooty with me in the past and he seems to have no etiquette d'amour with his hens, preferring to grab 'em by the neck and jump on, I am leaving him with my babies. Wouldn't be surprised if I next see him in the pram with a bonnet on....

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.

Envy, Jealousy, Thou Shalt Not Covet stuff....

I'm not prone to envy. I can look at others and think 'Ooo nice boots, skirt, hat, hair-do, nails...' without a twinge. I am resigned to the fact that I don't look as sexy as the other mums at school; my tummy wobbles when I walk and the under bits of my arms tend to swing a bit. Also, not being a thirty-something any more I find that unpleasant stuff happens when I run, (when I say run, I don't mean when I'm off for a power run, I mean when I have to lash about trying to catch a sick chicken or I'm forced to play hide-and-seek and I know the children will count to fifty as if they'd been inhaling helium, - y'know, Ruuuuuunnnnn.) But am I bitter?....not at all. Although I am big-time tempted by Lulu's new book, surely she is a witch who got a bit of the Philosopher's Stone before they destroyed it?!


(Picture from Amazon UK)

.......................BUT!..............................

Lately I have found myself coveting, desiring and it's a need that must be filled in this life-time. I go hot and cold, tingling with anticipation. I check my hair as we approach the place where I might just catch a glimpse. I have a crush. My head has been turned and I'm ashamed to say I have been known to brazenly stare, even if my husband's in the car!...............I WANT that polytunnel that sits in the heather and gorse outside a rural property we pass on the way to school. IT. IS. BEAUTIFUL. Let it be mine! There I've said it; I've got polytunnel envy. That sounds like a REAL disorder doesn't it? I don't need a cure thanks, just the polytunnel.

I don't think I've ever been the envy of someone else. As far as I'm aware no one's ever thought 'Wish I had three chins like that...' or 'Wish my hair stuck up like that...' However I am proud to announce that my friend has confessed to me that she feels envy when she sees me. She has Larder-Envy.

I do have a good one.





We call it 'the dairy' because there used to be a dairy on the land (if I write diary one more time I'll scream!!!) although pantry and larder will suffice. We think it's lead-lined as it was freezing even in August and it is one of the reasons why I fell in love with the house. Like us it's not overly tarted up, rather it's practical and keeps Prosecco really cold - attributes we admire.

I 'spose the moral of the story is, go on, have a bit of envy and enjoy the envy someone lavishes on you.