and other things I have discovered
Don’t bother looking for garden jobs now. Let everything die back, and trust the worms and insects to mulch it all down. They are better gardeners than you will ever be. Go for a walk, admire the colours and, when you get back, get busy with lost chickens, wild rats and too many pumpkins.
The Guelder Rose is full of berries. This plant is said to possess knowledge of ancient earth magic. So do I. Digging earth is a cure for stress.
Sedum, like many succulents, symbolises tranquillity, and we have plenty of that down here. This village is so quiet, you can walk around it and wonder if everyone has gone on holiday. But it has a population of several thousand, and last week we managed to annoy most of them in just 20 minutes.
Autumn creeps in under the cover of sunflowers. Yellow flowers symbolise friendship, the perfect antidote to loneliness. Loneliness is a Bad Thing and last year I decided to help get rid of it. It hasn’t exactly ended well.
The Japanese Anemone glowing in the shadows. It is a symbol of anticipation, which can be a cause of SAD. Nobody needs that back-to-school, winter-is-coming gloom but, if you are sensitive to seasons, the first ripe blackberry is enough to set it off. Time to stop looking ahead and do something about now.
If you are in Exeter and bored with shopping, you might decide to nip down to the sea. Watch out if you are in a car. Building sites and roadworks surround the city, drivers go nowhere slowly, the air is fuggy and social media is full of angry feelings. It is different on a bike.
We have Covid at the farm now. You can admire the pretty flowers outside the barn but don’t go near the door. The person who lives there is locked in his flat until he gets better. This is bad news because we can’t use the communal washing machine downstairs.
Another chicken died. Just one left, depressed and alone. She sat silently, staring into space, sulking. We offered plates of luxury bird food, and games with the cat but nothing helped.
Last month Glastonbury festival would have brought half a million people into a field. It felt right to mark ‘Glastonbury weekend’ with Something. So we did.
The hedges are full of cow parsley, and the ditches are full of rain. Midsummer is the time to party and we were allowed up to 30 people. So we did. There were a couple of glitches and we learnt some lessons. Here are the tips.
Most people would say no. But Dawlish Warren is the one for me because it’s the nearest. I can finish work at 5 and be in the sea by 5.43. If you are passing, it is worth a visit.
The Laburnum is out, summer is here, and it is getting busy. This week I did three things that are good for the soul. Swimming, metal detecting and rodent trapping. Which was best?
This old oak was born into a village of horse-drawn carts and solitary cottages. Now it watches over sprawling estates. For centuries it has provided calm shelter for birds, and shade for saplings.
The new variant is settling in quickly. Our government seems more surprised about this than our scientists do. The rest of us talk about nonsense travel rules and worldwide vaccine distribution. Then we wonder if the UK road map to reopening might end up looking like this footpath.
Lily of the valley, the birth flower for anybody born in May. We celebrated my son’s milestone birthday this week, with a beach walk, chips in the rain, and a bit of baby nostalgia from me. Meanwhile, my phone was filling up with other babies. Two friends have become first-time parents and are about to discover what a game-changer they are.
Bluebells symbolise, gratitude, humility and love. Do chickens feel these emotions? I doubt it from the look of this one.
The patch of creeping thyme is struggling. It wants to spread a soft carpet across the rocks but bigger plants have turned up, and everyone is jostling for position. It is too complicated to control, so I leave them to fight it out and look for something else to organise. I trot indoors to play Feng Shui and find the drawer from hell.
April is National Bowel Cancer Awareness Month.
It is a month when anybody who has bowel cancer awareness passes it on to those who don’t.
I had bowel cancer a few years ago and came out of it with a tale to tell. If a few people read this, I will have done my bit to spread awareness.
Forget-me-nots and grape hyacinth, rulers of the border. Google says they are weeds, but the weeds everywhere else are much worse.
The dreaded Blackthorn Winter. The one that ancient farmers warned us about. When the blackthorn bushes flower, spring flips back to winter with east winds, snow, wind and hail. You must scuttle back indoors, clutching your seedlings, and take up an indoor hobby like Sorting Out. There are bad scenes in the kitchen.
