Poetry please.

What a lovely time we have at our Poetry afternoons. Sadly, one regular member, S, was unable to come as she felt a cold brewing and nobly did not wish to pass it on to us all. So, if you are reading this S - thank you for being so thoughtful, get well soon - and we missed you.

As usual, we had such a variety of poetry. D read The Lady of Shallot - a poem which conjures up such wonderful pictures - and she read it beautifully. Then she read excerpt from Under Milk Wood - what a brilliant poet Dylan Thomas was - that marvellous idea of taking a village and immediately launching into description of the characters. And we all agreed on 'Bible black' being such a brilliant description too.

We had two poems on Starlings - the second one by Pam Ayres, read by J.

I can only describe it as the most civilised afternoon of the month. As usual, I meant to take a photograph of the gathering but forgot.

The Farming Year Moves On,

To everything its season as the saying goes. Farming goes through the seasons year by year and nothing changes. Because the farmer has been farming for nigh on sixty years he has it all at his fingertips and does the same jobs each year at the same time.

This week there have been various what he calls 'squaring up' jobs. First of all there are all Nature's winter prunings to take care of. Every winter gale brings down the old, brittle branches on trees in the hedgerows and walls. These lie about until this time of the year when the farmer collects them all up on a trailer, piles them in a field and has a bonfire.

Then there is the mending of fences. Whenever he does this I am reminded of the Robert Frost poem which begins "Something there is that does not love a wall". The poem is called Mending Walls and I love it. We had a piece of walling rebuilt (at a huge cost I might add) and this left a gap where the beck ran through. Sheep have little sense when it comes to water, so this morning the farmer has built a fence across the gap - and a good job he has made of it too, I think you will agree.
The same sheep are hopeless at judging width and therefore they try hard to squeeze through gaps (the grass in the next field being always greener). They are also pretty good at dying and if they get stuck in a gap overnight they will be pretty weak by next morning. So while he was down there the farmer also built a neat little wooden gate from old bits of wood and an old tyre (waste not want not is another of his maxims) because sheep definitely cannot open gates.

Walking round the fields after lunch we went to look at the place where there is always a good display of snowdrops and sure enough they were there. Ronald Blythe always says that snowdrops are good at taking long walks - well we think these snowdrops took a long sail because the only way they could have sprung up where they are is by them being carried down the beck during a flood and deposited on the bank. However they got there they make a fine display.

The blackthorn is in bud as you will see from the photograph. A few more days like today (it is eleven degrees as I write) and it will be well on the way - and very early.

In the vegetable garden the farmer has finished the digging. The birds have enjoyed a feast of slugs' eggs which he left on the surface and it is all looking very neat. I love it when it is like this. The Swiss chard is springing up. I know from experience in growing it in the past that in year two it soon goes to seed, but at present it is nice and green so I intend to collect it tomorrow and serve it up for lunch before it has a chance.

Our poetry meeting is here tomorrow, so this afternoon I shall be looking out some favourites for when it is my turn to read. It is such an enjoyable afternoon, I do wish you could all join us.

A Head Start.

##
I am about to put on my teacher's hat and get on my hobby horse, so beware.

I read in the paper today that forty percent of pre school age children never have access to a book at home. I also read a piece which talks of children being pushed along in their push chairs while their mums are on their mobiles or fiddling with their blackberries or i-pods or whatever. There is often no effort to point out things they are walking past, or engage the children in any kind of conversation. I was reminded of walking out with my grand-daughter in her pushchair when she was around two years old. Every time we came to a street sign we had to stop so that she could point out to me the 'e' for emily.

There are still schools where children come in at entry level having never seen a pencil and having no concept of what writing is for, where their language skills are poor because they have not been talked to, where their knowledge of everyday things (birds, flowers, shoe laces) is limited. All teachers know this.

Nursery school places are one answer and are doing a marvellous job. But without the backing of the home, the parents, the siblings, the grandparents - children still enter school at a disadvantage. Then, when the same children reach eleven and transfer to secondary education, primary teachers are blamed for some children being behind in their reading skills.

The lady who cleans for me on a Monday morning has just gone. She was telling me about her grand-daughter, who is five. My cleaner and her husband have just joined the National Trust and one of the 'free gifts' on entry was a tiny pair of binoculars. They have given theirs to the grand-daughter and yesterday she was bird spotting and kept saying "You'll never believe how good my eyes are at spotting things!" Now today, her grandmother is off to look for a simple bird book so that she can identify the garden birds.

Nursery schools, primary schools, secondary schools all have an important role to play of course. But parents should remember that children spend only approximately on eighth of the hours in a year actually in school. One bedtime story every night, cuddled up on the bed together, would make all the difference.

##A friend's wife bought him this splendid birthday present a short while ago. Thought you would like to admire it. The farmer was taken for a spin in it yesterday.

Two topics today.

First of all, feast your eyes on the daffodils above. A friend bought them for me on Friday morning as a thank-you for inviting her to a meal a couple of days earlier (thank you W). There was no need of course - we invite her because we love her company, but she knows how daffodils make my heart soar this time of year and they certainly have done. They are quite slow to open up and I look at them dozens of times each day. They prompt me to quote those first four lines:

I wandered, lonely as a cloud
that floats on high o'er dales and hills;
when all at once I saw a cloud -
a host of golden daffodils.

I know they have been quoted so many times that they are almost hackneyed - but I still love them. The Lakes is not so far from here and Wordsworth tramped the hills and wrote most of his best poetry there.

Still on the subject of friendships - we are off out to tea today to another friend met through my blog. She does not have a blog herself but she has read mine ever since she and her husband decided to move into the Yorkshire Dales. We have found several interests in common and enjoy one another's company. Yet another example of how blogging enriches one's life.

Now to topic number two - one which I found so interesting in yesterday's Guardian newspaper.
Oliver Burkeman suggests (he got the idea from Glen Whitman, an economist) that for every subject there are really only two things you have to know. The rest is really only an application of one or the other of those principles. Whitman now has a website devoted to the Two Things Principle - it is at bit.ly/the2things - and there are one or two suggestions in the article. For example the two things about going into acting are - don't forget your lines and don't run into the set. Someone suggested on Whitman's site that as far as parenting was concerned it could be broken down into - there's no such thing as too much affection and it's not what you say it's what you do. I was talking to Dominic last evening about it and he suggested that for music it was probably - look at the key signature and remember to count (or something like that - if I am wrong he will probably correct me). I thought about the two Principles of a happy marriage and thought they would probably be - give one another plenty of space and never let the sun go down on a quarrel. I would love to hear your two principle ideas. For example, can you break down gardening into two principles? Whitman suggests that you always can, with any subject.

Whatever you are doing today enjoy your Sunday.

Look who came to call.

Lovely surprise today when Denise Nesbitt and her husband said they were going to call in and see us. I have blogged with Denise for a couple of years - we do not live all that far apart - maybe fifty miles. So it was very nice when then rang about coming.

They turned up on this beautiful Honda motor cycle, and in matching motor cycle gear - very trendy and smart. As you can see from the photograph, Tess was very pleased to see them too.

We had an hour and a half's chat, a cup of tea, a piece of cake - and then they were off home again. The wind will be behind them on their way back, so hopefully it will not be as cold as it was when they came over.

Isn't it good to meet blogging friends? That is the power of blogger I think - that we make friends all over the world - people with whom we have a lot in common but who we would never otherwise have met. Long live blogger.

Busy old fool...

As the great John Donne said,

Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?

I don't know about you, but once the sun comes out this time of the year, my spirits lift.
There is a cold wind today but walking in the shelter of the hedge, the sun is warm on our backs and we know for sure that Spring is coming. It might still have a few battles with Winter to come, but another week and it will be March and then the battle should be almost over.

And as John (By Stargoose and Hanglands) was out in his garden photographing in his shirt sleeves then I am obviously not alone in thinking along these lines. So, not to be outdone, I went out in the garden with my camera, to see what was about. The results are quite good for February I think.

I found - purple species crocus, opening wide to the sun; my favouriute purple striped crocus - they are in a shady place so do not open to the sun, but they last longer; a white hellebore - I think it is Argutifolius - always out early but very prone to white fly as soon as it is warm enough for them to fly; aconites - which I did read somewhere do not actually have a flower - the yellow 'petals' are really sepals; primula wanda - I have had these for years and move them with me from house to house - they always come up with a good show; the Lenten rose - just out right, as Lent began this week; and last, but not least, Pulmonaria (Soldiers and Sailors) one of my all time favourite Spring flowers. If only it didn't have such ugly great leaves so prone to mildew later in the year.

Changing the subject entirely, somebody who reads my blog says they have not seen nor heard anything of my chickens lately, so I post a photograph of my cockerels. The news is not good I am afraid. They are magnificent birds. The farmer shut them up a couple of months ago in order to fatten them for the table but they are hardly eating anything, they have got very aggressive and attack him when he goes in to feed them and they are putting no weight on at all.
So what to do with them. Advertising them 'free to good homes' is to no avail. Nobody wants a cockerel. I can't let them out or they would fight for supremacy with their father, who is the most gentle, peaceful bird and wanders round the fields with his little flock all day. Their days seem to be numbered. For the farmer, the only solution is to kill them and bury them. It seems sad but it is only a matter of time before they begin fighting amongst themselves - they would now if there was a hen about, but luckily they can't see the hens from their cosy shed.

It looks as though I shall not be raising any more chicks this year. I love the whole thing but if we are always going to be left with cockerels which have to be put down then I don't really wish to do it any more.

Still Spring is on its way. Enjoy the flower photographs and if the sun is out where you live, enjoy that too.

Fascinator.

Well - here it is folks - laid on our quilt - it is certainly a cause for celebration I think.

Dinner Party.

What is nicer than sharing a meal with family and friends? The evening went so well that I am afraid I forgot to take photographs until it was over and everyone had gone home. So I can only tell you about the food apart from one sweet in the photograph.

The day before I made a shepherd's pie and a pheasant casserole - both improve with keeping overnight. It also takes the hard work out of the day of the dinner party. My friends came through the Dales and the Dales were flooded big time. They had great difficulty getting through and kept ringing for alternative route instructions. They arrived at 2pm and because I had made everything in advance I was able to sit and chat all afternoon.

My son and his wife and our friend, W, arrived for 7.30 and I had only had to spend the previous hour in the kitchen. I made a vegetarian dish for my son (sweet potato/apple/sultana with a potato and cheese topping) and a mixed fruit crumble pudding (blueberries, raspberries, apples, plums and gooseberries). I also made a recipe for rhubarb and ginger cheesecake. This had appeared in the Guardian newspaper on Saturday and as our friends are Guardian readers they were quite impressed with the fact that it looked exactly the same as the picture (see above).

Afterwards we sat and chatted, had lots of laughs, played a bit of music and generally relaxed until around ten thirty. What could possibly be better than a night spent with good friends?

~~If the farmer will agree to take a photograph of the fascinator for me, I will post it later in the day.

A Busy Day.

I went up to Tesco at the usual time but hurried as it was the day to collect my fascinator. For anyone who does not know, in April I am to give my God-daughter away at her wedding, so I have had a fascinator made. I am not a hat person at all and it does feel strange but the farmer was quite complimentary about it when I put it on at lunch time for him to see. It certainly has an air of celebration about it! One day I may post a photograph!!

Tomorrow I am having a little dinner party, so this afternoon was taking up with making two savoury dishes to save time tomorrow - a pheasant casserole and a shepherd's pie. This means that in the morning I have only to make two sweets and to cook the potatoes for the pie topping - makes life so much easier.

A busy afternoon on the farm too as some of the cows we overwinter - all from our neighbour's Dairy Herd - were to be freeze-branded. This quite painless procedure means that each cow is settled into a crush and then a number is branded onto its haunch using dry ice. It makes identification of individual animals so much easier. These cows have been used to going into a crush since they were very young - for having their pedicures, for pregnancy testing etc., so they accept it as a matter of course.

Each day the temperature is rising a little higher here in the Dales and is set to reach a record February high by Friday. Unfortunately there will be strong winds so the wind chill factor will make it feel much colder. How glibly we use all these meteorological terms these days.

Almost losing the will to live.

Our little town has quite a few amenities. One of the most important is that we have kept our Post Office. I choose to get my weekly retirement pension through the Post Office. Yes I know it would be more convenient to have it paid directly into my Bank Account - then I could even get my money from the hole in the wall, although we are lucky that we still have two Banks in the town.
But thinking I was being altruistic I chose the Post Office.

Each Tuesday morning I go down to the Post Office, draw out my money, pay the newspaper bill and then drive to the supermarket for my weekly shopping. Yes, I know it is boring but I am afraid that I am a creature of habit and find it so much easier to carry on my life in this way. Then I go on to my friend, G, and we have a coffee and a chat. We used to have a Danish pastry too but now we are both being sensible!

Tomorrow morning I need a flying start as we have to go and collect my fascinator from the milliner, so I thought it would be sensible to break the habit of the last ten years and go down on a Monday afternoon. When I arrived at the Post Office there was only one desk open and there were eighteen people in front of me in the queue. It took exactly one hour.

When I got to only one person standing in front of me, the man being served at the desk had a huge pile of packets to put through for posting and each one had to be put through separately. The lady in front of me asked him if he intended posting them all and when he said yes she said to the lady behind the desk, "I'm sorry but I think an hour is too long. I just am not waiting any longer." and she stormed off.

Seconds later the second desk opened. Even so, the lady behind me had a shopping trolley full of parcels to put through. What makes monday so special that all these people are putting through such huge amounts of stuff?

Anyway, having got the money, paid the paper bill, driven home and sorted myself out I could not find my card. I came to the conclusion that I must have left it in the machine. So I unlocked the garage, went back, only to find sixteen in the queue this time - and two desks open. Then, luckily, I spotted that the first person in the queue was someone I know, so I was able to pop in front of him and ask and yes - I had left my card. I was soon home again but it had taken up the whole afternoon. This will not have to happen many times before I abandon any altruistic thoughts towards and Post Office and transfer to my bank.

Now to a piece of more cheering news. I heard on the News this evening, ten minutes ago, that they are getting nearer to eradicating Poliomyelitis from the world. They have done it with smallpox - Polio next. There has been such a stringent campaign of vaccination in India - often done by British Rotarian ladies - that no new cases have been reported in the last year. Sadly that is not the case in two neighbouring countries - Pakistan and Afghanistan.

I can vividly remember the first big Polio epidemic around the late forties, early fifties. Many children in the village of Digby in Lincolnshire, quite near to where I lived, went down with the disease and many died or were left maimed in some way. Everyone became terrified of catching it. We stopped swimming in our local river; everything was blamed for causing it. It is so good that a vaccine was developed and is now serving such a worthwhile purpose.

I can also remember when the scourge was TB - or consumption as we called it. Almost every family in our village was touched in some way by the illness. Many people lost sons and daughters. It seemed to target young, healthy people the most. And I remember the Sanitorium in the next village, where patients spent all their time in bed on verandahs in the hope that the fresh air would cure them. Of course, the cure eventually came with the use of antibiotics. It seems as fast as we conquer one thing, another comes along to take its place.