A sloe day

Its a rainy and surprising dark August Bank Holiday Monday and I've been pottering around the house tidying up after quite a busy weekend.  The house is filled with stocks, one of my very favourite flowers, as it was my birthday last week and between Mr C and my family, I've been entirely spoiled.

We were very lucky with the weather yesterday as we went sloe and blackberry picking.  Although we didn't expect to be picking sloes until next month, it seems a lot of berries are early this year.  We found a blackthorn bush which was heavy laden with berries which were all very ripe.

 

 

Sloes are one of those fruits that aren't particularly useful for the usual things like crumbles and pies and eating.  Anyone who has tried eating one will testify that they aren't sweet and pleasant.   However, we plan to make some sloe gin this year and were determined to get some, and luckily my brother in law knew of a great place!  We managed to pick almost ten pounds of sloes in about an hour, leaving a lot of sloes behind still.  I did wonder how many people pick sloes each year?

We have taken our half of the sloes and washed and frozen them.  By freezing them, we will not need to individually prick every single berry when we come to make our sloe gin.

 

After filling our buckets we also picked about three pounds of blackberries.  If any berry can claim to be the best and most readily available free food, it has to be the blackberry.  Brambles will take over every patch of ground if left alone, including our garden.  The positive to having this painfully prickly, almost invasive plant is the wonderful berries that appear each summer and autumn.

 

 

The is something quite magical and beautiful about the blackberry.  It always evokes childhood memories of blackberry picking or of blackberry and apple crumble.  Nature provides so well this time of year.  The hawthorns were also laden with haw berries, although after having made haw sauce before (and the amount of work it takes to de-stone a haw berry!), we decided against picking any.  This beautiful insect was found amongst the hawthorn, it looked as if it was made of copper.

 

 

On a rainy day like today it seems that Autumn isn't far off, although I'm sure the weather will change again.  It is a day for staying inside and remembering bank holidays where it rained all day and I watched old films with Cary Grant, Doris Day and James Stewart... 

 

 

Days full of fret and care

Last night I switched off the news just before the weather forecast started.  I couldn't face yet more forecasts of wind and rain and tales of constant bombardments of storms from the Atlantic.  I just had to look out of the window to see what was happening. This reminded me of a quote I'd seen the other day from the wonderfully funny and insightful writer, Jerome K Jerome:

“But who wants to be foretold the weather? It is bad enough when it comes,
without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand.”

I've got the impression that it isn't just me who has found the incessantly bad weather rather depressing.  I can't get into the garden to do very much, even planning for the year ahead seems a bit silly when I can barely walk across the lawn without squelching and sinking a little.  When trying to cheer myself up the other day I found a number of quotes from Jerome K Jerome that I really enjoyed.  so I thought I would post these along with some pictures showing our garden in much sunnier times:

“The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone. Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night's heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very far away beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but angels of God.”

A prescription for life:

“1lb beefsteak, with

1pt bitter beer

every 6 hours.

1 ten-mile walk every morning.

1 bed at 11 sharp every night.

And don't stuff your head with things you don't understand.”

“Seek out some retired and old-world spot, far from the madding crowd, and dream away a sunny week among its drowsy lanes - some half-forgotten nook, hidden away by the fairies, out of reach of the noisy world - some quaint-perched eyrie on the cliffs of Time, from whence the surging waves of the nineteenth century would sound far-off and faint.” 

 

People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper, and more easily obtained.

 We are so bound together that no man can labour for himself alone. Each blow he strikes in his own behalf helps to mold the universe.

Once we discover how to appreciate the timeless values in our daily experiences, we can enjoy the best things in life.

The rain it raineth every day

Although the torrential rain and strong winds have lessened and we have even had one or two lovely sunny days, I don't think there have been many days recently where it hasn't rained. Indeed it has mostly rained constantly every day.  I'm aware that to some people around the world having some rain for a few weeks isn't a major issue when you have hurricanes, snow or drought.  However for our generally temperate non-extreme corner of England, it feels rather excessive. 

The garden is so wet and marshy only the birds and the squirrel are braving the lawn.  I've still not planted my tulip bulbs other than a few in a pot in the front garden, and I have no clue what is happening to the end of the garden other than the fence panels have mostly blown down.  Both we and the garden feel rather beleaguered right now.  After the light and brightness of Christmas, January and its incessant rain and wind is quite dull and drear.  The old house even has a few leaks and it feels as if we cannot escape from the rain.

All this rain reminded me of a verse of a poem called Winter Song by Katherine Mansfield:

"Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people's feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

In all the gloom, I am continuing with my patchwork picture, slowly putting the hexagon patches together.  I don't know whether I am imagining it but I think my sewing is getting a little bit tidier as time goes on.  I don't think I will post a close-up picture though!

 

"Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments, embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour."

-  John Boswell

  

Due to the rubbish dull weather I haven't taken many photographs lately.  I did take a few pictures on the couple of lovely winter days, my favourite of which is this one.

Rather than depress everyone with my negative ramblings, I want to end this post with a lovely positive quote from one of my favourite writers, Jerome K Jerome:

A new life begins for us with every second

Let us go forward joyously to meet it.

We must press on, whether we will or no,

and we shall walk better with our eyes before us

than with them ever cast behind.

 

Calm after the storm

There was a storm last night that had been hyped for days beforehand.  There were constant reminders about taking care and not going out unless you had to.  They weren't sure where the path of the storm was headed, only that the South Coast of England would bear the brunt of it.   We were luckier than some, just a couple of fences blown over and a little bit of rain getting in.  

I've got to say that I'm really not keen on weather like that, it just makes me tense and then means I really can't sleep well.  So last night when the wind and the rain battered the front of our house, I was awake constantly asking myself whether the dripping sound was inside or outside and wondering if I would ever get to sleep.  Of course the more questions you ask and the more you are concentrating on the noise, the less you sleep.

This morning we walked into work as usual, looking at the mess left behind - a tree in the road, the shutters from a nearby house flung in two directions and lots of twigs and leaves everywhere.

We also noticed these fabulous fungi.  If anyone can identify them for us, that would be great.  I shouldn't need to say, but obviously we aren't going to eat them.  Partly because its potentially dangerous and partly because they were in someones front garden!

The weather this morning was still blustery, but it was bright and sunny and quite calm after all the drama of the early hours of the morning.  The deep darkness with its westerly winds, torrential rain and fretful sleep has gone away.   For now.

And at lunchtime in the park, if it wasn't for the branches scattered around, you would never have known how loud and chaotic and slightly scary it sounded last night.   The weather is no longer a gentle late summer, Autumn has arrived with all its squally changeable tendencies - later this week we will arrive at November.

 

I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.
Louisa May Alcott

 am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.
Louisa May Alcott
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/storms.html#C2O4uTXMoITxgmqT.99

Finding the rainbow amongst the rain

It would be so easy to make this blog into a moan about the constant incessant rain we've had this summer.  I didn't know at first whether it is particularly awful or whether its just because we now grow vegetables and try to live seasonally that we notice every change.  I now know this summer is somewhat freakish, although it has been interesting trying to live closer to the soil, so to speak.

Some of the crops we grew easily last year, like beetroot and courgettes, have been somewhat of a washout and have suffered from a major influx of slugs and snails.  Seeds have germinated for other crops, but then they just don't grow particularly large as they need warmth and sunshine to produce at their best.  Our little apple tree which produced three apples in its first year has only produced one apple this year - it has been widely reported that apple and pear crops are significantly down on the average this year.  It all feels lacklustre and as if the vegetables were waiting for a summer that will never come.

Due to the awful weather we have spent a lot more time than usual in the house and sorting through boxes of things.  I've even put aside a cupboard for my sewing things.

Our study is now painted in french turquoise, resplendent with floor to ceiling bookshelves and waiting for us to find a lovely wing arm chair and small desk.

We have also fitted our new front door, with a beautiful one made by my brother and fitted by him and my brother in law.

When we venture into the garden in moments of rare sunshine or dryness, we watch sparrows dance across the lawn, dipping onto the long grass occasionally and making a racket.  It is so lovely to see them again in bigger numbers, I remember seeing them all the time when I was a child but numbers had dropped massively over the years.  In the garden at Hazel Cottage this year we often get four or five of them at a time, chirping and sitting on the fence.

Amongst all the rain, it really does make you appreciate when the sun shines or when you see a rainbow...

April showers

Al Jolsen once sung a song about 'April showers' which feels rather appropriate at the moment.  It feels as if it has rained constantly for months, although it must only have been a few weeks of it and it is most needed.  The garden at Hazel Cottage is a vivid shade of green, other than the muddy tracks that are forming across the lawn.  We often watch the blackbirds hopping about the garden in the rain, feasting on the worms and insects and hopefully keeping the slug population down.

Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here is the point you should never miss.

Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets)

It seems that we have the gulf stream to blame for these April showers - as it moves northwards in early Spring, it allows large depressions to come in, bringing in downpours of rain and hail and very changeable weather.   In the midst of all this rain, it is useful to look ahead and be glad that all this rain is helping towards everything bloom and grow in the summertime.

We were out in the countryside at the weekend and Mr C took some lovely pictures of the birds in the trees and the gardens at Mottisfont. The only blue skies we've seen around here in weeks.

Chaffinch

The Gardens at Mottisfont