This one is for you, Rach...


Is it just me, or is this time of year utterly jaw-droppingly beautiful?  Perhaps it is just living in Devon.  The rolling countryside is waking up from spring in a wondrous way and if you stop and watch you can literally see the ferns unfurling their fronds all along the hedgerows. 

The wildflowers are getting into their stride and we're seeing more than just green and yellow now.  Our drive to school this week has been hijacked by foxgloves.  I have to stop when we spot an open one.  They are the perfect kooky hangout for fairies so we have to see if one is at home!  The red campions are singing their song (Silene dioica aka the cuckoo-flower.)  They remind me of my paternal grandfather who taught me this wonderful poem as a young child - it is anonymous and has a few different versions.  I love that for a country ditty, there is much truth and sense behind it.  

The Cuckoo comes in April
He sings all day in May
In June he changes his tune
In July he prepares to fly
In August, go he must.

There's another lovely folklore tale I was party to at the school gate the other week.  "If the oak before the ash then we'll only have a splash.  If the ash before the oak then we'll surely have a soak".  So this year the mighty oak came into leaf well before the ash tree.  This could mean we will have a long, hot and dry summer...yay, break out the sombrero's and sarongs.  Although, according to the Woodland Trust there is no truth to the rhyme so we'll just have to wait and see.

Manic is a good word to express how life is on the farm at present.  At least from my side it is.  The grass is growing faster than I can cut it.  The weeds reach for the sky quicker than I can pull them.  Bad news is I am hyperventilating each time I step outside at the sheer vastness of it all.  The good news is that banks and verges that I couldn't penetrate last year due to broomstick thick brambles and thistles are now accessible with my cord strimmer.  'I'm off to mow' is my favourite phrase to utter currently. 

Last week I came in to face a crisis of note.  It was my turn at morning duty on the farm.  This involves letting chickens out and fighting the rooks off the feeder; feeding very hungry pigs; feeding very hungry ponies...opening up the growing room and starting the watering programme...all the while being followed on this mission by two very hungry dogs.  I came in the back door, hungry now myself for my own breakfast, to find the small girl wailing by the washing machine.  The Ologist was also stood by the washing machine.  He was not wailing but he probably would have, if he could.  They were both lamenting the lack of clothing.  The Ologist had no socks.  The small girl had no vests.  I was keeping my head low when I over heard the Ologist say to the small girl, 'it's actually going round and round now so you can't take them out'.  Cue more wailing.  I blame the spring and warm weather for my lack of domestic attention.  It's all about the outdoors for me right now.   I try to feel no guilt, at least we eat well every day.  Pah.....vests and socks indeed!

There was a school reunion a couple of weeks ago.  My old school, that I left...ahem...nearly three decades ago.  There were almost twenty of us, out of a class of 36, a lot of whom haven't seen each other since the Summer of '88.  It was an all girls school, and I was a boarder from the age of 12 to 18.  I was fairly apprehensive about attending the event, however what I learnt from the reunion was that we all share an historic bond that is incredibly strong, and unique.  We all know each other so well, although not as the grown up women we are today.  Our core characteristics have remained the same; the way we stand; tell a story; giggle.  It was a really enjoyable afternoon of catching up and reconnecting.  It is amazing how some people have the ability to make you feel really good about yourself.  It is also amazing how some people can have the opposite effect and make you feel utterly and impossibly invisible - I try to avoid those people these days.  There was one old school pal who in a few short words had me flying high on cloud nine and feeling so special.  I still smile a big smile when I think about our chat...she was so very complimentary and kind.  To you, Mrs W - I dedicate my first rose of the season!  With thanks for your kindness.

This week marks the date on our calendar when the goose eggs would have hatched.  I mentioned them in my last post.  We had three fertilised goose eggs from a neighbouring farmer and a broody bantam.  My idea was to hatch some goslings under the broody bantam.  It wasn't to be unfortunately.  Nature has a way of dealing cruel blows at times and this was one such blow.  The bantam just gave up halfway through the incubation period.  Who knows why.  I happened to see the farmer over the hedge last week and told him.  He's a Yorkshireman.  Yes in Devon (for more than 40 years now).  His comment was: "well, that's nature for you innt-it?"  We will probably source some day old goslings from a local market and raise them ourselves at some point.


The pigs are growing bigger each week.  Their squeaks are getting louder too.  They managed to upturn their water bucket even though it was screwed into a tyre which was screwed to the ground.  They would then throw it around their pen like they were playing a game.  We made an alternative plan with their water and gave them an old bucket as a toy which is a great hit.  Most afternoons they all play 'volley-bucket' round the pen having a thoroughly good time.  We have happy pigs.

The growing room is in production now with all my canes now full.  We have four different varieties of tomatoes growing, including a special new one this year we've called 'Random'.  It came up as a surprise in a bucket of compost from the heap, and I had one cane free.  We are still picking and freezing spinach in industrial quantities and may perhaps stop soon and grub it up in favour of some other crops.  The rocket in my sandwich at lunchtime was delicious and still warm as I laid it over the stilton.  I didn't even wash it as I know all about its' provenance.

We have enjoyed a bit of rhubarb this spring and I had no idea quite how effective a rhubarb forcer was until I tried it out.  We found it here on the farm when we moved in, it was tangled amongst the brambles.  I might encourage the Ologist to fashion me another one for next season so we can double our yield.  It is so simple the theory of what is going on.  It is plant manipulation at its best.  You put a lid over the rhubarb crown just as it starts to shoot.  Ours is made of terracotta, bell shaped and with a small hole at the top.  The rhubarb wants to grow towards the light, as most plants do, so it gets long and leggy to get there.  These shoots are pale pink, sweet, tender and juicy.  The shoots outside the forcer are slower growing as they have full sun.  These then become quite fat and tough.  Although still good to eat, its like the difference between home made bread and a supermarket loaf.

Its simply the finer things that make life good.

More delights and surprises this month include two amaryllis plants I have been nurturing.  They had been abandoned and we found them when we arrived here.  Last year there was leaf growth but no flowers.  This year, to much drum-roll and tootle-tooting we have had magnificent flowers.  One very delicate pale pink and one classic postbox red.



The small girl has been having fun.  One weekend her friend, and her friend's pony had a sleepover so that they could ride both days.  The first afternoon both girls had a lesson in our neighbour's sand school.  The second day we went for a lovely hack (grown ups on foot) round through the next village and back up the bridle path that leads past the entrance to our farm.  Both ponies had a great time, as did the girls.  Plans of a mini pony camp in the summer holidays are whirling round in my head.

I have made a start at what I call proper gardening at last.  The Ologist has been incredibly helpful and has done most of the heavy work for me.  We have re-established a bed along the stone wall in the front garden.  This garden faces south and is now open with all unwanted trees removed.  Until last week the grass on the lawn ran all the way to the wall, through all the plants and tangling with the shrubs.  Cutting a line gives a neat edge, but also enables me to start the process of eradicating the weeds and nurturing the shrubs and existing plants.  This new bed will be my new 'hot bed'.  I am plagiarising our local RHS garden, Rosemoor, who has a whole 'hot garden'.  I love the idea and want to recreate a small piece of it in my own garden.  It already has very well established shrubs that I have pruned to within an inch of lives, but there are still some gaps in between where I can turn up the heat and incorporate some colour. 

It is exciting to at last be doing some constructive gardening, and a bit of propagation and planting too.  All the hacking and slashing we have done is paying off as the light enables the plants to thrive.  I must admit I was very disappointed and surprised to find that we had not one foxglove in our garden or the farm hedgerows this time last year. Now the light has had chance to penetrate for two springs, we are faced with triffid like hedges of foxgloves. 

I am not complaining.  I will be in heaven.  In Devon. 



 

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