Friday, August 9, 2019

Friday 9th August

Well not much to write about.  It is raining, I should think solidly today.  Drove to Pickering to the organic shop for my wholemeal flour and various nuts, seeds and dried fruit.  Buying organic is expensive but I like the Yorkshire bread flour.  Then on to Lidl, hardly bought anything there except smoked cheese and grapes for Paul.
When I drove down the back lane to Pickering there were great puddles or flooding on the road.  A great farm machine sat forlornly like a beached whale in the field, a round bale of straw, half eaten, still to be regurgitated.  The rest of the bales scattered around the field.  This farmer has been late, our farms have baled their straw and bringing out newfangled machinery onto the fields.  Tractors you can probably walk under if you are like me small.
Yesterday I caught up with Jo over the church wall.  Haven't spoken to her for ages.  She has promised me a fleece from her one remaining blind sheep.  Apparently the farmer who cuts the fleeces of her now long lost sheep, turned up, and now I will have another job to do!
We discussed the weather for tomorrow's barbecue, not looking good, if it had been my choice I would have cancelled.  Another house in the village is going on the market, it will probably be nudging a million, large type manor house with fields for the horses.
The cottage next door to Jo, after being fairly empty for 19 years, has at last acquired a new owner.  Setting up their garden with fancy gates, and lots of workmen to do jobs like a new kitchen.  Think it has been a shock for Jo and her husband, they share a driveway but I am sure all will settle down.
It is surprising how much property has been sold in the village, everyone cashing in on property prices.  Now not being negative, but isn't Britain just running on selling houses, doing them up and antique shows? is anyone making anything in this country of ours?
Another Beatrix Potter painting, you can almost feel her sense of fun.  Big brown slugs are the only creatures I see in the garden.




6 comments:

  1. Those brown slugs are cleverer than we might think. On Monday I put a lamb bone out on the lawn for a local fox to chew upon and damn me within two hours three brown slugs had reached it and were beginning to munch on the meat that was still clinging to the bone. How the hell did they know it was there?

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  2. It's a mystery, they appear with the rain, could be living under the compost pile. I tried to pull one off the runner bean stick, but it was glued to it. Yuk.

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  3. For the last week or so my morning Tess-walk has been along Snail and Slug Alley. They appear as if by magic at the first sign of rain. The blackbirds have a field day.

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    1. Well I suppose they are all part of the living hotch-potch of life that keeps the world going round. Do not anyone put down slug pellets, they kill the poor old hedgehog.

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  4. I am sad that almost all of our neighbors have left. The only few that are not selling are ones that I do not know very well. Change is the real challenge as we age. We have to be malleable.

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  5. The last century with its promises made many leave home and move around the country, so that even in old age we have become nomadic.

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