Big Visitor !

I still feed the bird feeders and try to notice what comes into the garden. There is a seasonal variation to what can be found in our quite little garden. Last week we had a real treat.

I have a rubbish little digital camera and I have to work with its limitations. So, when a majestic buzzard came into the garden, I was keen to get a photo if it without spooking it. (For the folks in the US, a Buzzard Buteo buteo in the UK is a very large hawk and not a vulture.)The bird was seen three separate times last week sitting on a rock at the edge of our frog pond. We have a number of them living and breeding near our house. I quite often hear them screaming. I'll look up and way above me will be a couple of them circling. In the late summer there will be entire families of buzzards soaring above the fields. This is the first time I have ever seen one get this close to the house. Naturally the photo is blurry and you can barely make out that there is something in the centre of this picture. I tried blowing the photo up and using digital photo editing, sharpen the edges. This is as good as the photo got. Certainly the mole hills that are peppering the front lawn are plainly visible. *sigh*

I have a spotting scope that is almost permanently set up in the front room with the lens focused on the bird table. One can see the songbirds and occasional great spotted woodpecker in lovely sharp focus. Knowing that digiscopes are just spotting scopes manufactured so that a digital camera can be attached I tried sticking the lens of my battered camera up to the eyepiece of the spotting scope and took a few photos. It's tricky to get it angled right among other things.

Here are a few of my first efforts. I think if I stick with it, I could get better at getting in-focus photos of the birds that come for a visit and a snack. Coal tit - looks like a North American Chickadee but has that big white spot on the back of his head. Greenfinch Great tit with a male chaffinch off to the right.Female chaffinch

Bottom of the Field

In all the years (almost 15) that we've lived here The Man of the Place and I have never walked to the bottom of the field behind the house. We've been busy or it is raining or there are bulls in the field, the sheep are in lamb, there are lambs in the field . . . pick an excuse.

We've been in the field countless times for lots of reasons. In fact when George was in primary school, on fine days he could walk home (if there were no bulls in the field and it was dry enough). We would go half way down the field and then turn south toward the school which is three fields away. The distance of about three good city blocks.

If we are going on a walk it has always been much easier just to walk on the road to the north or south of the house. The west side of the house is all trees. As time has gone on the trees that were once small and of a size we could poach for a Christmas tree are now mature with big hawks and owls sitting in the top branches. The eastern aspect just gets ignored.
Walking due east from the house and once one gets past the point in the field for the turn to school, a ditch starts to form. The old beech trees (probably well over 200 years) used to be part of an old hedge. You can see the scars on these matriarchs of the field from their time in service as part of a hedge.This tree still has a bit of old barbed wire sticking out of it.
There is evidence around each tree that there are little animals living underneath the roots. Very Wind in the Willows!
It was the call of the curlew that inspired me to ask The Man of the Place if he wished to walk with me to the burn. In the spring and then all summer long we will hear the laughing cry of the curlew as they live their lives by the side of this burn.To hear their song, please click on these words that are underlined. The link leads to the RSPB page on curlew with a button to click to hear the song. It is Britain's largest wading bird and more than one live by this burn judging by the noise. Their cry reminds me of loons on Lake Superior. I hear the sound any time I am outside doing something that doesn't involve a lot of noise; hanging clothes on the line or digging in the garden. It's nice. Recently we heard these guys too, lapwings. My neighbour saw them arrive just the other week. The song of the lapwing reminds me of a comedy slide whistle. I love it when the summer visitors start to come back. There are about six lapwings in this field. They're pairing off and getting ready to nest. We saw them but as I don't have a long lens on my rubbish little camera, you'll just have to take my word for it.

You can see by the photos that the fields aren't as deeply green as they would normally be. We haven't had a lot of rain in the last month or so. In fact, since the snow melted, we haven't had much at all. Over all this is not so bad but it is lambing time and the ewes that have just given birth would be grateful for a bit more grass.

We found what is probably a badger set down by the burn and I look forward to going down there more often to investigate. I think it was badger rather than fox as there were about five holes, the holes were very clean and didn't smell. Fox dens really smell quite strongly of fox.To get down to the burn and home again we climbed over a part of a dry stone dyke (wall) that had been knocked over by one of the bulls last year. You can see in these photos the stones that have been pulled from the burn as they're all rounded and smooth and the stones left by the Romans when they were here centuries ago. There is an old Roman camp at the top of one of the nearby hills. As was common, the local tribes used the nice dressed stone that had been abandoned for their own houses and dry stone dykes.
I don't know if you can make it out, but there is the remnant of an old Roman road cutting diagonally through this field. Romans liked their straight lines when making roads and this road goes from the camp I mentioned earlier (you can make out the hill in the distance) to Carlisle 28 miles away which started out as Luguvallium in about 78 AD.
Here is The Man of the Place having salvaged some old fence posts on the return journey that were then cut up for kindling.

I'm quite happy to take any visitors on this walk when they get here. :-) Bring wellies!

Clipping Wings

From time to time I will have a hen who remembers what her wings are for.
This particular hen was put back in the run a couple of times today and twice yesterday. It seemed that every time I went out the door, she was there to greet me. This means that she needed to have her wings clipped.To keep the hens from flying out, one must clip her wings. This means that you merely trim the primary flight feathers on one wing. This is usually enough to keep a hen grounded.

This does not hurt the hens at all and it keeps the hens inside their run and safe from predatory foxes. The foxes are having their litters just now and are on the lookout for any unguarded and fat hens.

Being a Housewife

It's actually not a bad gig. I enjoy keeping the house clean. I like that The Man of the Place has a nice healthy lunch packed and ready for him. He and George don't have to rush around in the morning, I'm there to help. I make coffee and toast bagels while they're getting ready to start their day.During the day, I am planning and starting to prepare the evening meal. I started today's dinner last night. We're having a bean curry and it always tastes better the day after it has been cooked. I'll start the dough for the naan bread at about lunch time. It is cheaper to buy the ingredients and cook something rather than thaw something frozen from the supermarket or re-heat the convenience foods on offer.

I don't think I'd enjoy it quite so much if my work here at the house wasn't appreciated. We had become accustomed to a house where both adults work outside the home. We developed coping mechanisms and hired help from time to time. The place wasn't always very clean but it couldn't be helped.

I find I am taking pride in the fact that the place is very clean and tidy and the laundry is done properly. When George went to jujitsu, I had a small thrill when I noticed that his gi (the white kit that they wear) was the whitest in the room.I am still looking for work, but I am not at home sucking lemons about the whole situation. I'm really into being here. The dog is fitter as she gets better walks, the windows sparkle . . . . you get the idea.

The Job Search - It's Like Dating

I find myself looking at the phone, willing it to ring. I pick up the receiver and double check that there is a dial tone. Nope, no messages on the answering machine . . . . .
Wait a minute, I remember doing this years ago! Looking for a new job in this current economic climate is like dating all over again. I hated dating. No offense to anybody I may have dated that is reading this. I didn't hate YOU, it was just the process. Now there is this added compulsion to check my e-mail inbox many times a day as well. So many new ways to be rejected.
I did the traditional thing of looking in the paper. In our local paper the employment section is right next to the lonely hearts section. If you find a job/guy that looks promising, same interests/right qualifications (Non-smoker GSOH and have worked in the industry for eleven years) you send off your CV or resume. If you're serious about getting a job/date you'll sign up with an agency. Most large companies with head offices in much larger cities will not put ads in small town papers when recruiting. In my case, I have registered with a number of agencies that specialize in my field.

You'll get a few first interviews. Then it starts. You'll be nuts about them and they'll be lukewarm about you. Or you don't think they are that great, but you want the job/date anyway. The first interview went well but they never call again. What is worse is, you get a second interview that went okay too and you think, "This could be it! They could be The One!". Then they don't call you for days afterward. When they do finally call, you get the business version of "it's not you it's me".

I've been turned down for jobs for which I believed I was perfectly suited and qualified. It really saps ones confidence. You start looking at your application for gross errors like misspelling your home town and spinach between my teeth.

I've been to a couple of second interviews and been pipped at the post by somebody with more specific qualifications or experience. The last interview that I went on, I was told that there were over 100 people applied. 10 people were selected for interview and I was among them. Three were put forward for the second interview and I was there again. So I must be doing something right . . . but you wonder if you'll ever be in a relationship/job ever again.

Houseplant Rescue - Can This One Be Saved?

In the past I have written about my ability to salvage neglected houseplants, bringing them back from the brink. I've got a new plant in at the Whitelees Houseplant Infirmary. This poor Jade plant Crassula ovata was once was a majestic specimen that lived at my neighbour's place. I will admit that I did covet the plant from time to time as it was very beautiful. It started to lose condition a couple of years ago when the plant was moved to a north room in their house. Less light meant sparse growth and the thing started to look unloved. Then around Christmas it was knocked over. The jade plant was put in the (unheated) garage to be re-potted. Jade plants really don't like the cold at all. It sat there for weeks in the dark with its roots exposed. I offered to give it first aid and was told that it would be brought around to our place.

The jade plant arrived yesterday afternoon while I was out walking the dog. It was sad to see a once vibrant plant clinging to life. I dragged the plant in the house and re-potted it. The few remaining leaves are withered and the root system is all but missing. I have done what I can do. It is now sitting in a sunnier spot where I can monitor the progress. If it doesn't pull through, I know I have done my best. If it does rally, I'll have a wonderful mature jade plant.
In 2008 I wrote about a citrus tree I had over-watered. Over watering is a bigger and more final killer of houseplants than under-watering. I didn't think that the little bit of water that remained in the plant tray week in and week out would be a problem . . . . . It was a problem.
Look at our fecund little tree now! It took two years, but the little tree did it! I think I'll make some lemon curd or lemon marmalade with these efforts. I want to get the most out these hard won lemons.

Must Stop Baking!

I've actually gained about seven pounds since losing my job. I have been walking the dog more and cleaning the house but I've also had open and unfettered access to the oven.
This week alone I have made cinnamon rolls, lime pie, apple pie, ras malai (a milky Indian or Pakistani desert), blueberry muffins, a carrot cake and a red velvet cake. Out of principle, I sample everything I make. Such was the case this week, except for the carrot cake. The carrot cake was a present for a neighbour's birthday. It is probably bad manners to give somebody a birthday cake with a slice taken out of it. I did however make graham cracker treats with the left over cream cheese frosting using some treasured graham crackers. Graham crackers aren't widely available in the UK . A life without s'mores - think of it! I have a dwindling supply due to a very generous gift from cousin Carey. I broke into the last box this week after I found I had too much left over frosting to throw away after icing the cake. There is something so comforting about frosting sammiched between the two halves of a snapped graham cracker and a glass of milk.

I tried my hand at a red velvet cake this week with white fluffy seven minute icing. The cake was much redder while it was still in batter form. Once baked the cake didn't have that scary red hue that one associates with good southern cooking. The cake was red enough for domestic consumption. The whiteness of the seven minute frosting looked pretty next to the red brown cake. I was intimidated with the frosting recipe as it called for the use of a double boiler (which I don't own). I found that two of my sauce pans when stacked will work beautifully as a double boiler. The icing turned out well. It was as white and as sticky as I remembered from my childhood. Seven minute frosting was the covering of choice for angel food cakes when I was a kid. There was enough frosting to cover two or three cakes, but by then I had enough of being economical and I rinsed the remainder down the sink.

I knocked the Valentine theme up a notch with some Barbie brand pink and white sprinkles that have been languishing in the cupboard.

As I write this there are three slices of apple pie, about four ras malai balls floating in their milky sauce, and three quarters of a red velvet cake left in the house. I need more eaters as I for one am not having another bite. It's back to plain broth and skimmed milk for me until this weight goes.

Cleaning the Spice Cabinet

I sit here this morning and type, my fingers smell of ground ginger, cinnamon and garam masala. I've just finished cleaning out the shelves on which spices are kept.The cupboard is half emptied. What a jumble!

As I am still trying to fill up my days, today's activity was inspired by a detour to Brighton Grove Food Store in Newcastle yesterday. I love love love this place!

I knew that the shelves on which our spices are kept has been neglected. Over the past few years as other things have taken me away from cooking with fresh spices, the spices have grown old and less vibrant. Some spices had become caked in their tins while waiting to be used. Others just smelled of dust. We have a collection of small tins with fitted plastic lids. They belonged originally to The Man of the Place, souvenirs from his poverty stricken college days in Birmingham. Over the years as spices were used up, we refilled them with fresh spices from small packets purchased at Brighton Grove Foods. That packet of ground ginger was only £.85 yesterday! Buying ground ginger at a large chain supermarket would have been more than £2.00 and I am positive that the contents would not be as vibrant. This particular shop has a very high turnover of spices and I am guaranteed that whatever I buy will always be at the hight of its potency.

When going through the narrow aisles trying to remember what I needed (I should have written a list) I am always tempted by interesting things; flakes of dried garlic, harisa, jars of jack fruit (in syrup). I was very good and left a bulk of what was tempting me on the shelves and bought the replacement spices. I wasn't completely immune to the lovely things there. They have a produce section where I got a huge bouquet of fresh corriander (cilantro), a halal meat counter and at the front checkout you can get a few ready-made samosa and freshly made Indian sweets. I bought three bottles of mango lassi from the dairy case and seven vegetable samosa (one to eat on the way home and three each for the guys). The burfi looked so fresh and tempting that I had to get a half a dozen pieces for the family.Back at the house, the old spices were removed from the tins and thrown away. The tins and lids were carefully washed and dried and refilled with new spices.

Turning to other spices, I realized that I had enough paprika to fuel all of Budapest for a week! I had two jars of very old paprika that I didn't realize I had. When I compared the colour of this forgotton paprika to the paprika I purchased in Budapest in May, I was shamed! It was barely red at all. That got thrown out and the jar refilled with the new stuff. Compare the colour of the packet on the left with the jar of Safeway brand paprika on the right. No comparison! There was also a half used tube of paprika paste from my attempts at proper Hungarian goulash and an unopened tin of smoked Spanish paprika. Those were thrown out as well. Why did I buy all this paprika? Smoked Spanish paprika? The mind boggles! I'm down to a normal amount of good paprika now. If I return to Budapest in the spring, I hope I don't lose my marbles and buy more. Maybe I buy it after the days spent wine tasting which may account for why I don't remember buying it.

Now that the spice cabinet is clean and tidy and contains nothing but fresh and non-out of date things, I realize that we are enjoying a rare sunny day today. Time to make a start on the greenhouses!

Burns Night here at Whitelees

Robert Burns, regarded as Scotland's national poet was born on the 25th of January 17, 1759.

Over 250 years on, his works are still widely used. Auld Lang Syne on New Year's Eve may be the most recognized

There is a celebration of the Scottish Bard's birthday each year, Burns Night. Drag out the good silver, brush aff the kilt and take the good sipping whiskey from it's hiding place.
We have a quiet celebration here at oor hoose. The vegetarians outnumber the meat eaters (me) so I boil up a vegetarian haggis along with the neeps (turnip or rutabaga) and tatties (potatoes).I had a particularly large turnip that took me ages to split in half. It was at this point that I feared my knife would be stuck. It reminded me of the countless times I've had a wedge stuck in the firewood I'm splitting. I did get the knife through the turnip eventually. I have a larger kitchen knife. I will use it the next time I'm splitting a monster like that one.

I had a little dram of whiskey on my own. The Man of the Place doesn't like the stuff and George wasn't interested.

There is a volume of the complete works of Rab Burns on the shelves. My own rendition of Ode to a Haggis is lamentable and did not wish to inflict it on the ears of my dear ones so the book stayed undisturbed during dinner. I read a few poems later by the fireside.

I visited his final resting place earlier in September when my dear friend Anne visited from the US. He is buried at St Michael's in Dumfries amongst a forest of great Victorian headstones. Initially stuck in a quiet corner as fitting his impoverished state, he was moved to a grander spot later and given a mausoleum. Anne is good at visiting, enjoying the ONLY dry weather we had all year. We had lunch at one of Mr Burn's favourite watering holes, The Globe Inn in Dumfries. Which is a quick walk from his final resting place. We ate in a beautiful and ancient oak paneled room.

As Rabbie Burns lived what were to be his final years in Dumfriesshire, you can't really move around here without bumping into a plaque or notice that he'd been there. Even our favourite chip shop in Annan has a notice stating that a poem was written within their walls.
Caerlaverock Castle, down on the coast has a bit of graffiti that may or may not be his. The year fits easily. I like to think a young, dark haired poet having a snoop about the ancient ruins and scratching his initials there.

The date is observed well in Scotland and by Scots the world over. The traditions vary from place to place and from country to country but a few things stand. Haggis is served, whiskey is drunk and poetry is read. My kind of celebration!! I have adopted Scotland as my home and will always observe Burns Night.

They're Off!

Little Surprise

I've been filling the days with little jobs I have been meaning to do. I've been dusting the house - even getting behind the radiators. I am appalled at the amount of dust that gets built up behind radiators.

I've also been going through the dive photos from July and identifying the little fishies in the pictures. I've been deleting the photos that are way too out of focus. I was all set to delete this out-of-focus photo of a nudibranch, the Varicose wart slug (a really unpleasant name) Phyllidia varicosa when something else in the photo caught my eye.I blew the photo up and discovered that what I had was a more in-focus photo of a Sebree's pygmy goby Eviota sebreei !!I was so delighted that I literally bounced in my chair! This is a photo of a 3 cm adult. They are actually quite common but so tiny that nobody ever notices them.

I'm not a good nature photographer, but I am keen. If you want to see the other photos, here's the link. Peggy's Photos

This photo was taken on the 14th of July at a dive site called Marsa Shouni Soroya near Port Ghalib in Egypt.

Chimney Fire

Relax! It is out now and the house is still standing.

Boy it was scary though!

With the cold snap we've been having, it was thought that lighting the old range would be a good idea. This range is connected to the chimney we ended up capping in 2008 as we had jackdaws trying to nest there. Since the extension was completed and we use our lovely oil fired boiler to heat the house, this range has been out of a job. This is the first winter in a few years we have thought about lighting it.

It turns out that we weren't fast enough with the chimney cap and there was a half-built nest in the chimney. We were wondering why the fire wasn't drawing as it should. I just assumed that the chimney was cold and that when it warmed up, it would draw better. . . . .

Well it warmed right up The room this range is in started to fill with smoke. I thought perhaps the wind had changed and the smoke was being blown in. I shut the doors to this room and cracked the window open to let some of the smoke escape. Then I heard the fire roar inside the range. I mean louder than normal. To make things even more dramatic, burning twigs started to fall down the chimney and onto the range. Yikes! Chimney fire!

I put a call into the fire department and then went to the kitchen and got a dishpan full of water.

I was flinging burning twigs back onto the range if they bounced onto the carpet. The water was there to manage any embers that I couldn't get.Where the burning sticks were coming from.

By the time the fire department arrived, the chimney fire had burnt itself out. It turns out that the flu to the range isn't as attached to the chimney as we had once thought. This is why I had the scary rain of fire. A call to our pal Kevin the builder/plasterer is in order I think!

The room this range is in is quite kippered. I'm trying to get rid of the smell of smoke. I've cleaned the windows, and dusted. I remembered that we had a bottle of Febreze in the kitchen. With this cold weather (and it is probably old) the product has sort of set into a jell. The bottle of fabric deodorizer is soaking in warm water for a bit to see if that makes it fluid once again.

So, that was yesterday - bonus for getting to see firemen! Lesson for the day: Have ALL the chimneys checked and cleaned every spring, not just the ones you use regularly.

Winter Eases

It didn't snow today. The temperature got up to a balmy 4 C.

This first picture was taken yesterday. We've had snow since the 19th of December and none of the snow has yet to melt off the roof. All the extra insulation that The Man of the Place put up there has really paid off!

While going out to the chicken run with the water, I heard the sound of running water just as I was going out the kitchen door. The running water was from the drain!! The pipes had thawed enough for the water to drain! The bathroom is back in working order.

Meanwhile the colder winter temperatures mean that from time to time the cat and the dog will share space in front of the fire.