Happy Birthday Mom

 Today is my mother's 84th birthday.  Happy birthday Mom!

I have a lovely memory of spending her 70th birthday with her in Paris. 

You can read about that super fun birthday here.

I'm glad that we have this memory to look back on.  

I'm afraid that my mother's memories have not stayed with her.

This is a screenshot from my home computer.

It shows four of the seven Facebook profiles I have for my mother.  We should have booked her in for a CT scan when this started happening.  My mother would forget her log-in information.  Instead of figuring it out or asking for help, she would just start over.

Although my mother has not been known for being reasonable, this tendency started to become much more pronounced in the last few years. When does natural grumpiness turn into an actual symptom?

The aging process is unkind when we get near the end of our lives.  Brain health is vital.  Conditions like high blood pressure and atrial fibrillation can put us at greater risk of stroke.  Even when we think we have these things under control we can have a "silent stroke" and TIA, transient ischaemic attack and the dreaded Alzheimer's disease.  These things can rob a body of it's abilities and our brain of it's faculties.

As Time Goes By

When I first started blogging, I started following a blog entitled As Time Goes By by Ronni Bennet.  A former television producer who had been looking for a forum that was honest about what happens to the human body, how society acts and reacts to people as we age.   She couldn't find a reliable and honest (non-commercial?) account of actual aging.  I am speaking of her in the past tense because a few days ago, she left her body.  I am glad that she is now at rest.  She already had the peace. It is a comfort to know that she was not fearful when she crossed over.  One of her final messages was: "When you get here, it is really nice. I am not afraid."  Rest easy Ronni. You will be missed.

Everybody experiences aging.  Leading a healthy life is merely slowing down the rate at which we age.  It can sometimes prolong death.  Don't kid yourself, a healthy life doesn't make you immortal but regular exercise IS important. 

Ronni had a list of elderbloggers.  I love that list of blogs.  Colourful and fascinating people who are immensely valuable in a short-sighted world where youth and modernity are worshipped.  As I was only in my 40s when I started my own blog, I was considered too young to be included in that list.   When I turned 50 I requested inclusion to the list of elderbloggers.  I was finally old enough to be included in the group.  I was on the list for a short time.  I was removed when my blog entries slowed and all but stopped.  

A number of people who followed my blog back when I was more active have died over those years.  Fascinating bloggers who had amazing lives.  I miss their input and perspective on things.  I am so glad they are not here to see what is happening in this terrible year but I sure could do with their opinion. The political world is chaos and it is not helped by a global pandemic.  These two topics dominate the headlines.  

I am now thinking back to all the friends I have made through this blog. As in life you make friends through connecting with people.  Some bloggers became very good friends. I am also pondering the changes in my life, changes to my family and body that have occurred over the last 14 years.  The blog has a delightful archive that can be revisited.  It is a great big journal with pictures and comments.  My theme is roughly and very loosely based on my garden but I write about a lot of topics.

This is a list of things that have happened and come to understand

• My father died
• My mother has dementia and in a care home
• I have fewer teeth
• My feet won't work well without constant support
• I discovered how vital it is to have integrity 
• A number of friends have died
• Gray hair has showed up
• Your life can change in a moment
• I love my family 
• I find joy in nature

I am going to start touching on the aging process as it pertains to my life.

Small Town Life

In 1980, I was 18 years old.   The drinking laws had just changed in Iowa.  Previously the legal age was 18. The law now stated that a person had to be 19 to be able to go to a bar.  I was still 17 when the law changed.  I was a few months too young to be "grandfathered" in.   In my world, this was the most unfair and cruel thing that could happen to me.

 I lived in a very small town.  There was precious little else to do.  I went to school, studied and worked.  I worked in the food service at the local college in town.  This meant that a lot of my friends and coworkers were college students. Naturally they were a couple of years older than I was. I was a high school kid, a townie.  If they were toddling off to the bar after work, I would walk with them part of the way but turn off to go home not continuing to the bar with them.  

It was December and the campus was closing down for Christmas.  Many of my friends were going back to their own homes in other towns or other states for the holidays.  On the last night before they left we thought it would be a great idea if I came with them to the bar.  It was their last night before they left.  I wouldn't see them for weeks.   It would be churlish to turn toward my house and sobriety on this special evening. 

I walked with them and boldly walked through the front door of Joe's (the bar). We squished into one of the booths in the small but crowded bar on the main street in my home town.   

Naturally the bartender (Clay) knew me and I knew him.  He was unsure how old I was so I was "carded" to prove that I was old enough to be in the bar and drinking alcohol.   Of course I didn't have it.  I was underage.  I gave some excuse as to why I was not carrying I.D. and the bartender left our table.  I thought I got away with it . . . until a few minutes later when the he came back to the table.  He had called my house.  Clay was informed by whoever answered the phone that I was only 18 years old.  I was rumbled and I needed to leave. 

With great eye rolling I left the bar and walked the few blocks back to my house.  I was greeted by my sisters and some friends who were visiting us for Christmas. They had answered the phone and told the caller that I was 18.  I think they were pleased with themselves for spoiling my illegal plans for the evening. 

I held a grudge against poor Clay for decades.  He didn't know. It probably never crossed his mind again.  This episode in my young life is fodder for a wonderful story. The story of life in a small Iowa town. Everybody knows you.  Everybody knows your business. You can't get away with anything! I never embellish this story.  It is great as it is. "You think you had it rough!  The bartender CALLED MY HOUSE!"

Moving Up a Gear

This summer my mother had a TIA.  For those who don't know, a TIA is a transient ischaemic attack.  It's a mini-stroke.  If any sort of stroke can be mini.  They just randomly show up and take a bit of your brain function away.    

The episode put her in the hospital.  From the hospital she went to a rehabilitation facility in the hope that she would regain enough of her faculties to return home. This hasn't happened.  She is not well enough to return home without full time nursing care and alarmed doors.   This meant that when my mother left her apartment in June, she would never return.

It strange how a planned life with schedules, cell phone headaches, dates to meet up with friends and  carefully archived mementos are gone in an instant.  The life my mother had is gone.  Are there any comforts from former busy lives on offer in care homes? I wonder if they can give patients hot coffee in care homes. I know there is a risk of scalding but sometimes  a good coffee, served how you like it, works wonders.  Can they have a beer?

I haven't been able to speak to her since she went into the hospital in June.  First she was in the hospital and there was no way to get the technology arranged.   Later she was moved from rehabilitation care and  became a permanent resident. During this shift a vital piece of her cochlear implant was lost.  She was then rendered almost helpless.  Without her implant there was absolutely no way to speak to her.  She wasn't able focus on the screen long enough to recognise the face at the other end.   The one time I tried to connect with her, it was really sad.  She was being fed her lunch at the time and wouldn't shift her focus from the food to the screen.  I kept hoping that she'd focus and see me but she never did.

My lovely sister has been down to see our mom again and taken her to all her appointments.  One of the appointments was the audiologist.  She has a fully functioning cochlear implant once again.   Scheduling an international FaceTime call isn't easy with a overworked (and caring staff) at her care facility. I have an appointment with my mom tomorrow.  I hope she can focus on the iPad.  I want her to be able to see me and have a conversation with her. 

Volunteering

When Covid-19 hit the UK and hit it hard, the government was SLOW to shut things down.  I also think the government is too quick to open things back up.  This is backed up by the return to shut-down in certain areas.

I have been saved by doing volunteer work.  I wrote about it here.

Four months on and I am still heading out a few times a week.  I used to be that I was heading out 5 out of 7 nights to collect food.  The frequency has decreased to 3 or 4 nights a week. 

I get a notification like this via WhatsApp from the charity coordinator and I head out to collect the food.

When I get food from the supermarkets, sometimes there is a treat.  One night there was loads of whole milk.    When I collected it there was plenty for my Syrian families and plenty for the village. 

As you can see there was a lot of milk.  I kept it in my little fridge over night and set it out in the  morning.  I was *slightly* worried that there would be some left, but our village met this challenge!  It was all gone by 5pm. 

Our village and the village next to us are so excellent about helping to prevent food waste.

This week marked the end of me having my mileage costs covered by the village council. As Scotland is moving into phase 3 of the release of lock down, funding for this is drying up.  I don't think for a minute that the community is less grateful.  I am going to continue to collect and distribute food while there is still a need. 

The man of the place and I had a discussion about the cost of collecting the food and distributing it.  I would really miss doing this for my community.

I get little thank you gifts from time to time.  So far I have received some delicious broccoli and Stilton soup and some coriander plants for the garden. 

On Friday I got flowers and a lovely card from one of the families.   This was so sweet!

When the food is put out, sometimes I find there are special items in the form of entire decorated cakes in the boxes.  I set delux items like this to one side for families with small children at home.  It is hard to try to keep children entertained and fed during lock-down.  Treats start to become a thing of the past.  I love seeing the smiles and hear the squeals of delight.  It's like Christmas for me.

Cucumbers are Already Here!

male flowers have been removed

This is something I didn't know until a few years ago.  Cucumber plants have two sorts of flowers on the vine.  Male flowers and female flowers.

Removing the male flowers before they open and start pollinating everything is important.  If cucumbers get pollinated, they become bitter and unpleasant to eat.

baby cucumbers

It is easy to spot which flowers are male flowers early on.  They don't have a small cucumber behind the flower. 

I did a bit of cleaning out in the polytunnel today.  When the door was opened it was like going into a sauna.  LOTS of hot and very humid air in there!

When I cleared away some of the super slug infested lettuce, I found these little beauties! 

The first cucumbers!   I predict there is some pickle making in my future!

This is a jar I made last year.  They're still tasty!

Age is Taking Too Much

My mother lost her hearing gradually.  When I was a child, she didn't have hearing aids. As the years marched on, hearing aids became a part of her life. Part of her routine was searching the junk drawer in kitchen or the bottom of her handbag for fresh batteries.

When I was in middle school, we got a volume control on the phone receiver. With this device she was able to use the phone for a few more years.


My siblings and I learned to speak slowly and enunciate syllables clearly. No mumbling!  We knew that if she wasn't facing us, she couldn't hear what we were saying. There was no point in speaking to her if her back was turned or she was looking away.

We also knew when she didn't hear what we were saying. She would have a repertoire of replies and sounds that fooled a speaker into thinking that my mother had heard everything they said and she was in agreement. It made ordinary social interactions just a bit smoother for her. Most people would think that she had been participating. Her children knew the tricks and could spot when she wasn't understanding. Sometimes we would step in and re-explain the conversation to my mother if we saw that the speaker was expecting a more complete answer. It would give the game away so we had to be judicious where we stepped in.

We knew that we had to make darned sure she knew what she was agreeing to in conversations with us. We could never be seen to use her deafness to our advantage. "You said I could go! I asked you and you said yes!" Taking advantage of your mother's disability would have shown a shocking lack of integrity. We just didn't do it.

By the time the 80s rolled around the volume control wasn't enough. I think the last time my mother used a normal telephone was 1981. When I joined the Navy in 1981 she couldn't really use it very well when I called home.


We had a few years with a TTY machine. This was pre-internet and before mobile or cellular phones but I was thrilled with another and simpler way to communicate. It was like using a walkie talkie. There were loads of little short cuts. I don't remember them all. I do remember that when you had finished your sentence, you typed GA for "go ahead". This way you weren't both trying to type at the same time. I had a machine here in Scotland and my mother had one in Washington, D.C. where she lives. Long distance phone calls were still hideously expensive but if we needed to speak to each other, we could still communicate.  With the onset of the internet, chat rooms, and e-mail the TTY machine gathered dust in a cupboard in my room.

The world and technology has moved at a rapid pace. For years we have been able text and email each other. We have chats on line and the cost of international phone calls now costs me nothing extra.

We still don't have the half hour calls that some people have with their mothers. Maybe it was because of her deafness that we never had long conversations on the phone. We never developed a regular phone thing early on. When things started to become a problem, I didn't pick up on them. How could I? I live in another country.

Facebook came on the scene and eventually my mom created a profile. She learned early on how to swim around in the social media pool. A few years ago and  I don't know how but her profile became the target of those people who copy a profile and start to harvest the friends list for their nefarious purposes. We got that profile removed.  It made me careful with every friend request I get from somebody with whom I am already friends.

Despite the copycat profile being removed, I have five separate profiles on Facebook for my mother. They are all genuinely from her.  In the last few years she would forget all her log-in information. It must have been just easier to start a new profile rather than go through the headache of fishing around for the right login information. These profiles show clearly the beginning of a decline of something other than her hearing. She stopped writing in her blog too. Technology was becoming increasingly too complex for her.  

She started to have dizzy spells.  This was diagnosed as a natural reaction to dehydration.  She wasn't drinking enough liquids. It became obvious that she was losing weight as well.  When people develop dementia, the feelings of thirst and hunger don't translate into action.  

We started to have conversations about her going to assisted living accommodation.  These suggestions were always shot down in flames.  My mother has always prized her independence and wasn't going to give that up.

When Covid-19 hit the states, her day centre shut.  On the final day it was open, they sent all their people home with food parcels.   My mother with her natural generosity gave it all away to her neighbours.  We weren't overly pleased with her generosity.  She didn't save anything by for herself.  It was clear that she couldn't plan past what she wanted to do then and there.  The thought of making sure she had food in three days time wasn't on the radar.

It was really hard work to convince my mother that staying in her apartment was essential.  She would walk out to get a coffee, check her bank balance or get a newspaper.  

"I survived polio, I can survive this." 

Meanwhile we are all trying to convince her to stay put.  I could only do that by sending her really grumpy texts or scold her via Facetime.  It would work for a day, sometimes two days and then she was out again. 

It got worrying when she started getting lost.  She would call her friend and tell her that she didn't know where she was.   By identifying the restaurants she was near, her friend could figure out where she was, collect her and bring her home.  She seemed to be chastened by this episode . . .for a day. 

A few days later she was at the Metro station, got confused and the police brought her home.   Then it happened again. . . I'm not sure about the time line for when these things happened but the police brought her home a couple of times. 

Then there seemed to be an event. My mother had another dizzy spell, and was sick.  Things weren't right. My mother's regular doctor was called.  The doctor made arrangements for my mother to be evaluated at the hospital. It was at this point my sister drove down from New Jersey to Washington and supervised getting my mother to the hospital.

Initially we were happy that Mom wasn't in a care home or in assisted living when Covid-19 hit the USA. Those places seem to be hotbeds of Covid-19 infection.  They certainly are in the UK.  Now we wished she was in one so that she was safe.

Old age doesn't come alone.  There seems to be some evil roulette table we are all lined up to play.  As you age more dark spaces are added.  If the wheel lands on a dark space you'll lose something.  Sometimes it's just a tooth or you will suddenly and inexplicably have higher blood pressure.  Other times you develop bunions and not only can you not run, you have difficulty walking.  Your skin will wrinkle, your hair will get grey or go altogether. The more sinister spaces on the roulette wheel of ageing are brutal: cancer, stroke,  heart attack and dementia.  The come along with a loss of dignity that's hard to witness. For a woman whose ability to be sharp, educated and quick thinking has kept the wolf from the door for herself and her children, the loss of her mental ability is particularly cruel. 

This week my mother was moved to a care home for rehabilitation.  She is deaf, confused and in a place where she's never been before.  I take comfort that she is safe, she is being offered regular meals and she is taking her medicine regularly. 

During this global pandemic, I find myself repeating the first part of the Serenity Prayer that the AA use all the time.  

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can; 
and wisdom to know the difference.

I am not religious but this prayer reminds me to let go of things for which I have no control.  I can't control other people's actions just like I can't control the weather.  Worrying about it is a complete waste of energy. 

Oh! Things are starting to happen!  A few small green tomatoes have appeared on the vines.

I really want them to hurry up, get fat and ripen!  More food needed for the tomato plants.  I have plenty of tomato food so that's not a problem.

When I went out there to tie up the tomato plants, I discovered a slug on the lettuce.  It had already munched a whacking great hole in one of the leaves.  I had always assumed that the big black ones didn't eat stuff in the garden.  This one was caught in the act!

I just plucked it off and promptly threw it at my husband.  He was not impressed. It was an underhand toss.  It wasn't like I was throwing a baseball. . . .  I thought I was being very funny.

Windy Today

We had a scorcher yesterday.  It was lovely, still and hot for most of the first half of the day.  Today is howling with wind.  The baskets are unhooked and down again.

The front beech hedge was clipped back so that we can have better access to the herbaceous border along the western edge of the garden.  We clipped back everything by hand.

This is what the hedge looked like as I started.

This is what it looked like at the end of the afternoon.  Over ten wheelbarrow loads were hauled away.

It is not cool to cut a  hedge during nesting season.  We used hand tools only and went very slowly.  We stopped when we were  two thirds of the way done because there may be nests.

This shows where work stopped.  I heard lots of cheeping so we didn't go any further.  It may be  months before we finish.  I'm okay with that.

We can't get all the way to the top safely.  I'm not worried about that either.  When the tractor comes along in August, the top will get cut back.  I also didn't cut back the hawthorn that has seeded itself in this hedge.  It's in bloom.  The bees need those flowers.  It looks a bit insane but there you have it.

Work stopped when slurry was spread on the field next to the house.  It was supremely smelly, drove everybody indoors and I shut the windows.  A few hours later it wasn't quite so pungent. When it was first put down, it was fierce!  I really don't mind much.  I'd rather have slurry stink than car exhaust.

We went outside toward the end of the day when the smell had lightened up a bit.  There were clouds building in the north so I started picking up tools and raking up dropped leaves.  When the rain started, I was in again.

This is this weeks star visitor to the garden.

A little juvenile weasel.  I saw it running around in the wall near the bird feeders.  I guess this means that all the voles that used to live there are gone now.  The appearance of the weasel also explains why the pheasant chicks aren't around anymore.

I saw a little weasel again later on and it looked like a different animal.  The first one had a shorter tail. When the weasel ran away, it ran to a pile of stones that lives under the big pine tree.   It is in this pile of stones that I saw a weasel years ago.  It is my hope that this pile of stones is a permanent home for a family of weasels.

Covid-19 Lockdown begins 23 March 2020

As our place is out in the countryside there are aspects of life here that hasn't changed.

At the time I write this, the UK have done terribly with controlling the virus with over 38,000 deaths. The US is worse with over 100,000 deaths.   With infection rates are decreasing in the UK but not enough to say the problem has been managed.  Because the lock down restrictions started on the 23rd of March we have been under lock-down for seven weeks.  We should have started earlier and had a framework in place to help manage this.  The UK government has been acting like a deer caught in the headlights.  . . . but I'm not going to rant just now.  There are plenty of other places you can go to read about the shambolic government approach.

I will write about how it has affected me.  It has frightened me.  How do you prepare for this?

I didn't need to rush out and overstock on toilet paper.  We have always kept a rolling three month supply here.  What I did was rush out and get chicken feed and dog food.  If we're going to be restricted to the house, I will not let the animals suffer. 

When I was in town for probably the last time in months, I managed to get a 25 kilo bag of potatoes.  I came home with the car loaded with provisions.  I felt like all those conversations we had about the zombie apocalypse.

So we're in the house.  We're all stocked up.  We can last for ages . . then on Monday my husband goes off to work!  I'm going nuts!  This is not safe!  He can do 98% of his work on a computer!  They can arrange for him to do this at home!  This is the man who has trouble shutting the silverware drawer in the kitchen and leave the lid off the butter.  He's not going to remember to wash his hands and stay two meters apart from people.   He also works with people of varying degrees of intelligence.  They're going and sit on the corner of his desk while he's working just to chat.

Spinach experiment

I have an old pack of spinach seeds.  The expiration was 2018.  Two years out.  I don't know what the germination rate will be.  Some seeds can live for decades - other seeds only barely hang on until the next season.

The old seeds are getting planted. There is a good fistful of seeds so  I will plant all of them.  I will start out with two test rows in the polytunnel.

I also have some new spinach seeds.  I ordered them from Amazon and they arrived in a few days  from China!   There will be two rows of these seeds too.

Well well well. . . Chinese spinach.
The warning on the packet is formidable!  Do not open this can/package/container or plant the seeds until you have read and understood the NOTICE TO PURCHASER.  This seed is intended for planting by professional growers who are familiar with this variety *text obscured by photo* under their field conditions.    Cripes!  I hope I'm up to the challenge!


When comparing the appearance of the seeds, the newer seeds are greener.   I don't know what the variety is of this new seed.


The old spinach seed from a shopping trip to Aldi and is obviously variety Matador.  I hope it germinates and is happy here.

I've planted two short rows of each in our big plastic tunnel and watered them well.  I will be interested to see how each variety does.  It is not fair to compare germination rates as the European seed is old. It will be fun to note the physical differences.  I expect the taste will be identical.

I will plant the rest of the seeds outside later on today.  I will plant all the spinach seed.  No sense in keeping it.  I love spinach and will eat every scrap that is edible.

If one variety does particularly well, I will let a plant or two bolt at the end of the season and harvest the seed for next year.

dead lupin seedlings

On another note, it is vital to check and water everything in a greenhouse every single day.  Sometimes you should water twice a day if the weather is particularly warm.   This poor tray of lupin seedlings is now dead.  It sure didn't take long to go from healthy and growing to crispy and dead. I am upset with myself for being so careless.  I had great plans for those plants.  I have a few seeds left in the packet so . . . do over.

Nets on the Fruit Cage

The poles to the fruit cage were put up a few days ago.   We promptly had a couple days of high wind so I just left the project until we had more favourable weather.

Yesterday I dragged the nets out of the greenhouse and unrolled them on the grass.  I looped the meters of net over my arms like an enormous bridal veil and draped them over the wobbly poles.

Birds thwarted for another season

The nets go on when the fruit looks like it may start to be inviting to all the local birds around here.

blackcurrants starting to plump up

I like having song birds dart around the soft fruit bushes the rest of the year.  They clear everything of insects that may be harmful to the crop.

gooseberries are now protected

The gooseberries were looking the plumpest of all the fruit over there.  They are a favourite of The Man of the Place so the berries need to be protected. 

Now that the net is over things, the trick is to not let the birds sneak in any gaps. I believe that I have pegged down the net in all the places where tiny songbirds can sneak in. . . but only time will tell.  If a bird gets in under the net, it is difficult for them to find a way back out.  They could die if somebody doesn't check the fruit cage regularly and release any trapped birds.  This is yet another reason we need to stay at home! 

Baskets up - Baskets down

Earlier this week we were enjoying a lovely stretch of fine warm days.  We got loads more done outside in the garden.   

The bold step to hang the hanging baskets out was taken.

Baskets at the kitchen door

It gave so much more room in the poly-tunnel and greenhouse.  No more bumping my head! 

On the "courtyard" side of the house we have three doors.  I put a hanging basket on either side of each door.  That makes a grand total of six hanging baskets.  They really brighten up the place.  It is a daily activity to water them completely (until water is running out the bottom).  The spent blossoms also get pinched off.  Deadheading keeps the plants blooming for longer.  If they don't make seed, they will keep producing flowers.

There are two big enemies of hanging baskets, not watering them enough and wind. In the last couple of years we have not only lost a hanging basket to the wind, we lost an entire bracket that was bolted to the wall! 

Baskets unhooked because of wind

When the forecast was for wind today one of the last jobs I did last night was to unhook all the hanging baskets from their brackets and place them on the ground.

I am glad I haven't planted out the beans and pumpkins yet.  This wind would shred them.  It's really rattling the windows.

comfrey jungle near the chicken run

There is a lot of comfrey growing here.   The bees love it!  On a warm, still day I could be mistaken for a beekeeper.  There are hundreds of happy little buzzers.

We didn't plant the first comfrey plant for the bees. The bees were a delightful added bonus.  The comfrey was planted so we could make fertiliser for our vegetable plants.

We cut down loads of comfrey leaves and fill a bucket.  Nettles may or may not be added to the mix and then top it up with water.  The whole lot is left to putrefy for a few weeks.  There is a lot of protein in the comfrey plant so when the leaves rot down it really stinks! 

rotting comfrey leaves

When diluted this mess is a brilliant high potash feed.  Great for tomatoes and flowers.    It costs nothing, is completely organic and boosts the fertility of the garden enormously.

This bee was in the kitchen this morning.  He isn't supposed to be in there.  I gave him a little feed and then sent him on his merry way.

Being an Immigrant

Food in a culture is vital.  You have your favourite things to eat.  The way the kitchen smells when your favourite dinner is cooking makes you happy.  You miss the treats your grandma used to make for you. 

One of the lovely things about travelling is discovering new things to eat.  Sometimes the new food is a bit challenging for you.  Butter takes on a whole new meaning in Brittany, France.  The butter there is beyond amazing.  The first time we were there on holiday marked the end of margarine in my refrigerator.  I want to live in a world where I always have butter from Brittany in my fridge.  If you cook with good ingredients, your food will automatically be better.  The buttery pastries from that part of the world send me into raptures. 

You know you're in the American south when sweet tea and grits are on the menu.  In Iowa you will see a pork tenderloin on the menu.  A good one will be way bigger than the bun it is served on.   Really excellent Mexican food in Mexico (of course) and the Americanised version that you'll find along the southern border of the US.  I'll try it all!  Some people will eat nothing but hamburgers and fried eggs until they can get back home.   I feel pity for them. 

American breakfast

I have discovered some life-changing taste sensations when I am on holiday.   I try to replicate it when I get back home if I can.  I have also had food poisoning.  You roll the dice and you take your chances.  Fish in North Africa was a gamble too far.

Fish n chips

When I moved to the UK all those years ago I was eager to try new foods.  The first place we lived was within walking distance of a chip shop. So much winning! I put the blame on fish and chips for the 20 pounds I put on in the first year I was in the UK but I also had a baby.  

There were different things in the supermarket.  There are some stupid things that I miss.  Graham crackers, root beer and wint-o-green lifesavers are biggies.   Some other things I just get over or make my own self.  I have made root beer in the past.  I may do this again some day.  The apple butter I make is better than any that is available in a US supermarket. Apple butter isn't even known over here.

Language is the first adjustment that is made when you move to a new country. 

Changes in manners, dress and language happen over time.   Some changes happen immediately as we struggle to assimilate. Other changes happen gradually over years. 

Even though I have lived here since 1992, I still sound like a foreigner to somebody new.  

"Where are you from?" 

I will explain that I have lived here for over 25 years.  Originally I am from Iowa.  

"Oh, you haven't lost your accent!"

I have lost a bit of my accent and the volume at which I speak has lowered.  My American accent is going around the edges, but for the most part I still sound American.

I am still doing volunteer work.  I have been asked to help two Syrian families that have moved into the community.  One family has only been here since December.  They are trying to get up to speed quickly.  Their English is coming on leaps and bounds!   The little ones may outpace their parents as soon as things open up again and the little ones are in school again.

The other family has been here a year.  Their children are already fluent and the family are due to have a new baby any minute!

I am making baklava.  A tray for each family. Syrian style baklava.  Each country has their own style - I investigated and discovered that Syrian style has orange blossom water in it and the technique is basically the same as other methods.  No honey or cinnamon and Syrians prefer orange blossom water.

The last thing to leave us when we immigrate is the food.  Food that we loved from our former home stays with us.  We hold old recipes dear.  These recipes and food traditions stay with us and are passed down as a legacy to the next generation.  

Gardens Have More Enemies! *edited*

I am in a seriously foul mood this morning.  Gardens are always under attack!

Two nights this week we have heavy frost warnings.  Even with frost warnings, it is still very dry and seeds that have been planted are really slow to germinate.

Going into the poly-tunnel this morning I noticed that there were some green strawberries that have fallen off the plant. My first thought was, perhaps the strawberry plants are so dry that the berries are falling off.

Moving the lawnmower  I was confronted with this!  A green strawberry midden has been started under the lawnmower.  Rats!  They're eating the strawberry crop!

It looks like a large percentage of this year's crop!  Damn it!

Two rat traps have been baited (no poison) and set carefully in the strawberry bed.   The poly-tunnel is blocked so that Fen can't get in and get his nose nipped.

In addition to the rat damage, there is evidence of a large black Labrador digging deep holes in the vegetable patch.      Some of the sweet peas have been destroyed and a few carrot seeds have been sent flying.

I can water the garden, set rat traps but I can't protect the vegetable patch from marauding pets.

I would really like the garden gods to cut me a bit of slack!
_______________

Not rats.  It is mice. Lots of mice.  I've managed to trap three so far.  Setting traps each night until the damage stops.

Treasured Gift

Years and years ago - possibly 1988.  After a move from Boca Raton, Florida back to Iowa City, my beloved sister and her new husband sent me a set of towels. A blue bath towel and a pink bath towel.  There was also a blue and pink hand towel set and matching face cloths.  There may have been two of each colour but it has been so long now, the memory is fading.

The towels were SO welcome!  I was always broke back then.  I was raising two little boys on my own on a secretary's wages.  Having a nice set of thick, fluffy, matching towels was a little bit of luxury.  I had enough nice towels to make a nice display of them in the bathroom.

Boy did I ever use them!  They stood up to vigorous and daily use. 

Over the years most of the towels have disappeared. I may have given my eldest son the blue half of the set when he left home.   

This is the last towel, one lone faded pink hand towel.  I won't get rid of it.  It is still in regular use all these years on. 

Sometimes when I am using it, I am thankful for my sister and her generous support all those years ago.  I don't know if she remembers sending me the towels.  I am pretty sure I said thank you back then. I am also sure that I haven't mentioned them since.  I should have.  They made domestic life a little easier for a long time.

Don't Get Caught Out!

We have enjoyed WEEKS of sunshine and mild temperatures!  There hasn't really been a frost for a while either.  It is SO tempting to just put stuff in the ground!

Vegetable plot patiently waiting

The vegetable plot is ready.  The plants in the greenhouse are ready!  The weather is fine. 

One could be lulled into thinking that putting all those tender plants out will be just fine.  I know better. . . rather I have had this happen before.  I put everything out on a fine weekend before the risk of frost was completely over.  Naturally, a late frost came along and killed everything.  I learned my lesson.

The US has a system of zones that lets gardeners know when the frost risk is gone.  Britain is a much smaller area.  We don't need a zoning system.  Just trust local knowledge and experience.  Folks in Cornwall can plant stuff out earlier and probably grow tomatoes outside.  Scotland has a narrower growing season and some tender things like cucumber and tomatoes do best in the greenhouse.    Some years we don't get enough sunshine for those tomatoes to ripen or the sweetcorn cobs to fill out. 

The rule here is to wait until the end of May.  Seriously - that is late in the growing season . . . but that's our time.  Don't play Russian roulette with your tender plants. You may win but if you don't,  you will have dead plants.

The only things that have been planted in so far are things that are known to be okay with a light frost.   I have sweet peas (pretty flowers), garden peas, onions, garlic, and cabbages.  Peas are super hardy. I love them for that.    The soil is ready.  The bean supports are up and we're ready.  Just waiting for the calendar to move forward twenty more days.

Me enjoying the sun

In the poly-tunnel there are few things to bring me joy.  The scent of the flowers in the hanging baskets and the setting fruit in the strawberry bed.

Strawberries on their way 

I spied a 5 kilo bag sugar in the supermarket the other day.  I grabbed it even though I don't need it just yet.  I plan to need it when these puppies are ripe.

Bad Compost!

At the beginning of the lock-down The Man of the Place was still going in to work.  This drove me insane as 98% of his work is administrative. There was no sensible reason for him to go into an office full of people who had to travel out to visit other people.

Anxiety levels were quite high for me.  I was worried that he was putting himself (and me) at risk of infection.   To placate me, he went to one of the few shops that was still open at the time, a local shop that sells hardware, and gardening things amongst other stuff.  He picked up two bags of compost for me as I was getting near the end of the bag that I had in the greenhouse.

A few days after some strongly worded complaints, he is working from home now.

The new compost that he brought in was a bit rough.  Lots of very woody twigs and bark.  It had not been sifted.  It was practically mulch!  As we are in the middle of a global pandemic I won't complain. I used it.  From time to time I tossed the big wood chunks out of the greenhouse door.

I thought perhaps the poor germination rate I've had this year was due to old seed.  Maybe it wasn't that.

Although there were more failures than normal, some things did germinate.  I was diligent about pricking them out into larger pots as soon as they were big enough.

Some seedlings went into the old compost and some went into the budget compost.

Things were okay until I noticed that some seedlings were not thriving.

Some were not only  not thriving but actually dying!

dying tomato seedling

Today I re-potted a lot of those sickly seedlings.

Look at these two cucumber plants.  Both germinated at the same time.  One lucky seedling went into ordinary compost and the other went into the "budget" compost.

cucumber seedling in the good compost

unlucky seedling in bad compost

These two cucumber plants were from the same packet.  Both were potted into pots at the same time.  The only difference was that one was put in budget compost and the other was put in ordinary compost.

All tomato plants were sown on the same day.

What I am saying that buying budget compost is no savings!  Look at the dramatic difference!

I got another bag of ordinary compost as I was getting to the end of the barky, twiggy compost.    Nice stuff is being used to re-pot the poor plants that are not thriving.   I am now at the end of that bag.  Now it is known that I need at least four big bags of compost to get me through the spring planting season.

I had to re-pot everything that was placed in the bad compost.  So really as I have to remove and replace a lot of that budget compost there was no savings to be made at all!  False economy!

I've got a big 50 litre bag of good compost coming today or tomorrow.  I am so thrilled that one of our local garden centres are making deliveries of garden things for orders over 35 pounds.  My house is just on the very edge of their delivery range so I made my order big.  I am grateful to be able to have enough cash to make a decent order and take advantage of the delivery system.

In the meantime, I have been rotting some comfrey leaves in buckets.  The leaves will stay in those buckets until they have made a purtrifed and stinky mess.  That putrified liquid will be diluted and used as tomato fertiliser.  It stinks to high heaven.  I believe that this is the nature of fertiliser.  It stinks.  I love using things I already have here at the place. Comfrey and a few stinging nettle leaves make excellent fertiliser. It costs NOTHING.

Jobs Done!

The Vegetable Patch is Ready

As there is nowhere else to go and the weather has been glorious!  Jobs got done!
The Man of the Place did the lion's share of that digging.  For this I am so grateful!

The vegetable patch in all its glory.  I really must get out there and put stuff in.  There are things that can go in now and should have gone in a few weeks ago.  I can put the peas and onions in.  Anything else that might suffer with frost has to wait.

Washing the Greenhouse

 
The greenhouses were tidied up a while ago.  I got a lot of junk out of them at the time.  When it isn't growing season, the greenhouses end up as see-through storage. 

For most of yesterday it was very clear and sunny.  I put sunscreen on my face and wore a hat while I emptied the greenhouses.

I can fool myself into thinking that I don't really need to wash the glass every year.  That is until I empty them and have a hard look.  It really needed to be done.  I don't remember if I cleaned the glass last year.  I'm glad I did it.

It is immensely satisfying to blast the green off the glass.  I give the greenhouse frame itself a good blast too.  I feel like a better gardener after washing everything down. 

You can see the clouds were building just as I finished with the power washer.  It started to rain just as I was putting things back in. 

I was tired after blasting off the green and went for a sit and a cup of tea.

Today I am nursing a migraine.  It is almost gone now so I will go out and see about getting those peas in the soil.