Fee-fi-fo-fum

Brin the Boxer smells the Springer Spaniel's bum. And the Lakeland Terrier. Two new friends who have joined us walking in the woods. Of course, Themba had a real nose on him. Brin has to get really up close and personal to make his acquaintance. Which leaves some dogs and their owners a little non-plussed. Not Rory, the tough little Lakeland Terrier, who can high five and roll over! But can't walk to heel.

No matter, we know all the paths and disappear in a flash, behind that tree, into that copse, or as last night, onto the cricket pitch. It's actually a great space for walking the perimeter. Plenty to look at, plenty to sniff at. The Pavilion is a bit run-down, but news of the imminent demolition of the Mushroom Farm should hurry up the plans for the new houses, and a new cricket pavilion in the Village. And so, we have been taking a last look at the mushroom farm development site. It really is quite sad, and will be a huge task to clear the site of all that concrete and asbestos. When we first moved to the village, the local pub restaurant served a very popular ShackMush burger, a vegetarian option which was delicious. Although the pub is still serving good food, it no longer serves local produce.

The work done by the Ranger earlier in the year, to clear the birch trees and rhododendrons, is now yielding results. The central part of the Heath has been opened up, the fungi have been splendid, although if you blink, the giant slugs will eat them before your eyes! The badger setts are very obvious now, as are the deer 'bedding areas'. I keep Brin on lead so as not to disturb the animals, I hope other dog owners do too.

Stockings for Australia, gift tags by Christmas Pie Crafts
Things have been a bit busy at chez Mad dog woman. Not content to be pushing ahead with phase 1 of the patient digital record system, I have also had to host a dinner for Consultant colleagues, purchase gifts for junior staff, and have all the nephews, nieces and assorted God-childrens' gifts ready for Dad to take to Australia next week. No, Dad isn't the postman or Father Christmas, but he is going to Australia for 5 weeks and my brother will enjoy the special time with him (or else)!
Gift bags packed with gifts for staff.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

That means that we (Mr B, Brin and I) will enjoy a very quiet Christmas. We have been invited to spend it with Mr B's family in Croydon, but the thought of leaving Brin alone all day, and sharing Christmas with some of my least favourite people in the world has driven me to tears - quite literally. I have written about this here.

Talking of Brin, we have been in touch with Boxer rescue, and at last, someone is coming to see us, to vet us. Please, fingers crossed that we will be matched with an adorable Boxer dog before Christmas. A new companion for Brin, who although he is a human dog, should really have a playmate to romp around the garden with. He gets easily bored when I am mucking out the hen house. When Themba was alive, they would play and play and never get bored or cold.

And to end, the community police person has been around this week. Not a woman I have taken to, but she seems very efficient. This week, she was on the trail of a pony (it could have been a donkey) in a field. She noticed the gate was down on the service driveway of the neighbours. Unbeknown to me, the tree men had opened the gate, it fell down as the post is rotten and it had been tied up with green garden wire! Anyway, they were only picking up any debris from the hedge trimming, to keep things neat and tidy. Next thing, the police person is about, asking questions and implying that the neighbour is furious. I went over to appease her and sort things out. The police person explained that she thought the driveway was the path to the field (!) and thought some undesirables had broken the gate down. All's well that ends well, but beware. Don't leave your neighbour's gate open, don't leave your donkey in a field, and don't get the tree men to tidy up, because, in Shackleford, you are being watched and will get into trouble.

(Of course, the next day, the wind blew the gate over again. The tree men were blamed, so I enlisted the help of the super-neighbour who tied the gate to our gate post. Job done).











Am I being selfish?

There is some rather unpleasant history between Mr B's family and I. It goes back 21 years and I will always feel rather sad and disappointed at the way they reacted to our relationship.  I do make an effort to be civil to them, but that is as far as it goes. 

This year, for the first time in 17 years, his parents are spending Christmas in the UK with Mr B's sister in Croydon. This presents a very real dilemma for me. I don't want to spend Christmas Day with them. I also know that Mr B has not had Christmas with his family in 17 years. Still, this year I win. And Mr B agrees (he's a darling man).

Two Christmasses ago, my parents set off on their Christmas Hols (much like Dad is doing next week), to spend Christmas in Australia with my brother and his family. Mr B and I were delighted for them, and looking forward to spending time on our own over Christmas.

Sadly, Mom fell ill and was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in Australia, and returned to the UK to start palliative chemotherapy on Christmas Eve. It was a Christmas tinged with sadness, although Mom was very brave and we had a beautiful day together. A cherished time. Last year, we invited Dad to stay with us over the Christmas period. It was a poignant time, our first Christmas without Mom. How things had changed.

So, when Dad announced he was going to Australia for Christmas this year, we couldn't have been happier for him, and us. His grandchildren in Australia are adorable, and although we Skype often, they can't wait to have Grand Dad with them for Christmas. They have been so grown-up too, in understanding where Granny has gone. It will be lovely for them. We feel relieved, the pressure is off us. We can have a couple of lazy days, enjoying the time of year and each other, preparing for the New Year.

Except for the in-laws. They are being very demanding about our presence on Christmas Day. I feel sick when I think about it. There is no way that they will be able to fill the gap left by my mother. And after much haranguing by Mr B's sister, I cried. I'm embarrassed, but at least they know how I feel. Hopefully, that will be the end of the matter.

Selfish? Maybe. But when you grieve, you must do it your way. Don't be swayed by what others think is best for you. And this Christmas, it's all about healing us.

In the meantime

Whilst work keeps me away from my blog, this view keeps my spirits up.
Back soon x.





You're Beautiful - Water

I discovered a long time ago that I am a water baby. I could swim almost before I could walk, or so the story goes.

And I swim everyday now; the water caresses me, warms me, holds me. I can even feel my aura in water, and it appears 10 feet tall, a sign that I am relaxed and content.

When we go on holiday, we gravitate to water, too. Mr B grew up inland, I grew up at the coast. But we share a love for water.

When Jenny let me know about this special one-off You're Beautiful, it just had to be 'Water'. So these are some lovely photos of water from my travels, near and far, this year.


Ka'anapali Beach, Maui; Boating on Zoo Lake, Johannesburg; livestock drinking water on the farm; Silent Falls, Drakensberg; mirror image, New Forest; cool water on a hot day, Shackleford; River Danube, Budapest; Japanese Gardens, Margrit Island, Budapest


Pop over to Cheetahs in my Shoes to find out what is beautiful in the Cheetahs' world today.

You're Beautiful

Photography by Lesley Beeton.




Remembrance Sunday

The Village puts aside its differences today and will come together to remember. It is a very moving occasion, marked by the laying of crosses of those from the village who have fallen in conflict. It is always very special to have young and old standing side by side, inspiring another generation to remember.

Shackleford Village War Memorial

“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember them.”




The hennie-pennies

 

This is (mainly) a hen update. The hennie-pennies have been with us for 6 weeks now, and I love them. We did have a rocky patch when Specky decided to pluck the bottom feathers of Blackie and Ginger, but I have put a stop to that!

Hens enjoying the early morning sunshine through the trees
They are now turning over the veggie patch for me, doing a fine job at getting the runner bean plants out. They have such an appetite for greens, I have arranged to get a bag of cabbage and lettuce leaves from the council kitchen at the end of each week.

They do love a bit of corn in the afternoon. It fills their crops before bedtime and keeps them warm during the cold nights. I am a bit puzzled though to find an egg first thing in the morning - I can't decide if it was laid the night before or just earlier in the morning. 






Specky's eggs are amazing - at least one double-yolker a week. And just look at the size of it!


In other news, all is well in Shackleford. Brin the Boxer is a happy boy and Mr B is back on the treadmill. And while he was sorting out the wood pile at the weekend, I went to a Christmas market and bought a few things.... More on those in a later post.









The Gallery - Autumn

Each week, I follow the prompt by Sticky Fingers and post a photograph which best describes my interpretation of the theme for The Gallery.

A week or two ago, I wrote 'Poemwalk' about an autumn walk through the woods. I took these photos around the same time.



Now pop over to Tara at Sticky Fingers and see more Autumn.





To see my previous Gallery entries click here.