Category Archives: Margot’s Country Snippets

Waste not, want not!

Who knew rubbish could look so fabulous?! Thanks to Garden Trading.

Last week, I received a rather wonderful countryside accessory from the lovely people at Garden Trading – a compost bucket. Not just any compost bucket but a beautiful specimen in the perfect colour to match my new country kitchen. Never one to shy away from a challenge, this started a whole lot of kitchen and garden thinking in the Margot household! We have never had the space, time or inclination to think about creating our own compost heap but, coincidentally, it turns out that our ramshackle garden at the new cottage has not one but two compost heaps. So, it would seem that the compost bucket has arrived at just the right time!

Composting is, of course, the most environmentally friendly way of recycling your kitchen and garden waste, not to mention the best way to get wonderfully enriched soil for the garden. Although most won’t have the space for a compost heap of their own, it would appear that kitchen waste recycling is on the up in the Big Smoke as its inhabitants try to do their little bit for the planet. With the likes of Zac Goldsmith championing the ‘Go Green’ mantra, it would seem that recycling has become terribly fashionable dear Reader! Even here in our little corner of suburbia, I was surprised to find out that the local council provides a caddy which one can use to deposit kitchen waste and it is collected alongside the ordinary rubbish – incredibly simple even for the laziest amongst us and cuts down the number of full to bursting black bags each week. Guaranteed to earn one a place at Zac’s supper party table! With that in mind, I thought old Margot should give it a go and make a start with a little bit of recycling – rubber gloves at the ready!

Visions of raking through the bin trying to pick out the bits that could be composted, have always put me off doing this in the past. I hadn’t a clue of where to start with the whole composting lark! According to the garden gurus, the first job is to know what can go into a compost bin (apparently wayward children and bitey puppies cannot be composted…). So, just for you, dear Reader, here is what can be thrown on the heap!

Kitchen waste – coffee grounds, tea leaves, tea bags (cut into them to help break them down), vegetable and fruit peelings/scraps. NO meat, cooked veg or dairy products.

A peep at the peelings!

Green garden waste – grass clippings, prunings, fallen leaves (that sort of thing). You can add stinging nettles to your heap to add extra nutrients apparently.

Some top tips for getting started on Garden Trading’s blog and the Recycle Now website has a great step by step guide to the perfect heap here. Not ready for that quite yet but I am pleased to report, dear Reader, that I have been dutifully using my new bucket to recycle our kitchen waste. I added a bit of newspaper to the inner removable liner so that the sludgier peelings and leftover scraps wouldn’t have me scrubbing out the bucket every time I emptied it out. Newspaper is compostable too so this will just add to the perfect heap. Scented candles are already working overtime on preventing the house smelling of dog so the air tight seal on the lid is a godsend when it comes to preventing any unwanted whiffs emanating from the bucket! So far so good, our bin bags have been considerably lighter and we intend to keep it up once we move and have our own compost mountains to maintain. Although, saying that, Jerry is already mithering about how my fruit and veg compostable compote will no doubt spoil the perfect bacteria equilibrium for his grass clippings heap! He also mentioned watching out for rodents. Surely he can’t mean…..RATS…..dear Reader? Rats in Margot’s perfect bit of countryside? I should jolly well hope not!

A little wobble

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A wibbly wobbly mess…..

Making a mad dash from London to Hampshire for a meeting at Primrose’s new school one evening last week, I had one precious hour in the car to contemplate life, the universe and new kitchens. Having sold our house in the Big Smoke, we are waiting for solicitors to let us know when all is set with the new ‘cottage’. Moving is tantalisingly close now yet still we are in limbo. Patience I know, dear Reader, is required…. However, I am ready to get packing and start carving up kitchen cabinets and fitting an Everhot! Bombing down the M3 with music blaring, I was lost in these very thoughts as I passed field upon field of glorious oil seed rape all sunshine and dayglow yellow in the evening light.

Turning off the motorway, driving through windy lanes and then up the long school driveway, I wondered what Primrose’s new school might have in store for me that evening. Stepping into a room filled with exceptionally well turned out mummies, I quickly breathed a sigh of relief that I had decided to leave my Barbour in the car. Thank goodness I had also dusted the cobwebs off my Portobello Market ‘Mulberry‘ handbag. Where were the ladies in wellies and tweed? This was, after all, a countryside school. A sea of double barrelled surnames rather than shotguns….I felt cheated, dear Reader. Talk turned to our relocation, choice of village and profession and I felt instantly sidelined – a ‘townie’ in their midst. What was I doing? I was never going to fit in in the countryside if these über-mums were anything to go by. Everyone seemed to live within ten minutes of the school and they all knew each other in that rather annoying “Do you remember when little Johnny did such and such at the May day fair?“. It was like being on the set of Mean Girls. Where was the industrial sized gin when I needed it?! Suddenly I could see that our school run of 25mins each way would probably result in no one wanting to come and play with Primrose after school. Too late to do anything about it now though…..as we were about to exchange on our new house and Jerry was set on living a 15 minute drive away from the best commuter station. I drove back to London and went straight to bed, convinced that moving to the countryside was all a massive mistake.

‘Walking is Man’s best medicine’ – Hippocrates

To make matters worse, Primrose had her own wobble the following morning and decided that she wasn’t going to move. Tears and wailing ensued and cries of “You and Daddy are very mean taking me from all my friends…” Our usual morning chit-chat was replaced with sniffs and blowing of noses as I tried gallantly to save the situation and talk up the advantages of having a bigger garden. Neither of us were convinced to be honest, dear Reader. Nursery drop off completed (tears at the door for the first time), I armed myself with strong coffee and the advice of some very sweet friends and headed off to the park with Poppy and the pup. Woodpeckers, bluebells, a serene herd of deer, giggly toddler and a happy hound…..amazing how a good walk and the sights and sounds of nature at its best can restore a troubled soul. Just enjoying moments looking, listening and being able to marvel at all the things which somehow the hustle and bustle doesn’t allow time for. The countryside makes you want to slow down, take stock and enjoy the simpler things in life, like a good walk. With that mantra firmly in hand, I decided that I was not going to let a little wobble about moving stand in our way, nor the cast of Mean Schoolmums either! Turned out that Primrose had had a change of heart too as she skipped out of the nursery doors with a drawing of our new house in Hampshire in her hand………and despite our little wobbles, we are both smiling about our new life in the countryside.

A little glimpse of how Primrose sees our future.

Primrose’s little glimpse into our future in the countryside!

That was the week that was

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My amazing birthday barbecue courtesy of Jerry and the girls

Birthday celebrations (mine and Jerry’s), bank holiday, toddler getting up at 5am every day (east facing bedroom curse), Monty’s first puppy class, launch of his (and my) new monthly blog on NFU Countryside and a guest blog post for the Britmums Brilliance in Blogging award for Fresh Voice….that was the week that was. Dear Reader, to be honest, I am still reeling from it all. To add to the list of fab, fantastic and in the case of the 5am starts, downright frightful, I made a fatal error and did not put my brand new pair of shoes on the very top of the bookcase and they were instantly eaten by the Monster before he could be stopped. I can report that in just one week, the wardrobe casualties are stacking up: 2 tunics, a chiffon dress, 1 pair of shoes and a beloved cardigan which now has pinholes in it. Puppy teething?! Pah! We seem to have acquired a pup with the chewing skills of a beaver. Nothing is safe! I know, I know, how could I possibly be cross with this sweet little face…..?!

Here he is…the little shoe eating Monster.

So passing on my TOP TEN tips for the first weeks of owning a furry toddler could not have been a more apt post for my Britmums Fresh Voice voting plea! Between the children, dog and turning another year older, I found myself nearly at the bottom of the beautifully packaged bottle of Hendricks gin which my dear Papa so kindly gave me for my birthday!

Here are my handy hints if you missed them:

1) Reacquaint yourself with lack of SLEEP – coffee and Jerry’s dressing gown are my new best friends. No sooner did Poppy start sleeping through, my nightly toddler escapades have now been replaced with standing in the garden in pyjamas, praying the neighbours can’t see me.

2) Explain to both toddler and dog that sharing is lovely but perhaps not when it comes to teething toys.

3) Do not buy any new shoes – dog will chew ONLY the new ones. (I am still mourning the loss of my floral pumps….)

Oh…….(she says weeping)

4) Buy a dog guard for the car – emergency stops on the A4 due to dog jumping from boot to back seats are best avoided!

5) Do not let husband to allow dog to sit on sofa. (My days of wearing black are over……..)

6) Try not to attempt to house train pup and potty train toddler at the same time. Poppy now thinks a piddle outside (a la pooch) is an acceptable practice.

7) Hone your Mummy sixth sense in order to catch sneaky 4 year old feeding the dog at mealtimes. Otherwise, you may find that dog enjoys mushrooms from Coq au Vin as well as puppy kibbles.

8) Remember children and dogs often suffer from temporary deafness……although that may just be in our household! You may find the investment of a whistle worthwhile…worked for Mary Poppins.

Taking the training seriously!

9) Do NOT leave your gin unattended at any point. Following that thought, definitely don’t forget to wash out a glass that puppy has found and licked, before serving your guest another drink from said glass! (Luckily my dear Papa has a very good sense of humour!)

10) And lastly….have your camera ready and drop everything to capture children and dog enjoying the simpler things in life together. Running through the long grass, chasing butterflies and setting up tea parties NEVER seemed as much fun before Monty came into our lives! After all, as Gerald Durrell, author of My Family and Other Animals, knew so well “A house is not a home until it has a dog.”

The full Britmums post can be read here. Tonight at midnight marks the end of the voting for the Britmums Brilliance in Blogging awards and I can honestly say that I am still surprised I even made it this far. Thank you again because when I started writing the blog in October, I truly believed that I would be writing posts that would drift off into ether and no one (except my Mamma and Jerry) would read them. I am grateful to you, dear Reader so thank you thank you thank you for the follows, the comments, the encouragement and for the precious votes. Gin and kisses to you all! I promise ‘normal’ Margot capers shall resume next week! Jerry has been badgering me to get on with crossing off some of the items on my to do list….

Oh and if you do fancy following Monty’s adventures on NFU Countryside, then look no further…..you can find his little paws here.

The New Arrival

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Irresistible..!!!

Puppy Puppy Puppy!!! After 8 weeks of waiting, we finally brought our scrumptious spaniel home last week, dear Reader! Jerry, Poppy, Primrose and I stood on the doorstep for our first family photograph and it felt like we were bringing home another newborn baby! So far Monty is proving to be every bit as gorgeous in temperament as he is in looks and doesn’t even mind when well meaning visitors ask if he is a Springer! His first night went so well that Jerry and I were slightly worried that he wasn’t breathing. I suddenly wished that we had bought a CCTV-style baby monitor so that I could check on him without having to go downstairs and wake the whole household. The last pup to leave his mother, he had already spent one night on his own and after a long day’s play with our girls, he was so exhausted that took himself off to his bed inside his crate. We didn’t hear a peep from him until we all got up at 6am the next morning (Jerry and I never get a lie in as Primrose and Poppy are the early to bed, early to rise sort of children……sadly). There have been the piddles and puddles as we expected but he is pretty good at calling us to open the back door to be let out now.

He has also proved the perfect tonic for dearest Poppy who has been very ill, having caught the dreaded chickenpox, with infected spots and temperatures of seriously high proportions. Not an inch of skin could be seen on her and she was unable to do much more than flop on the sofa and whimper just like a little pup. In response to her obvious distress, Monty has licked her, let her snuggle down with him and even rest her head on his back – thus proving that a well known fact that dogs are extremely good therapy.

A trip to the vet and first jabs over and done with, we are now looking forward to the second jab when we can FINALLY take Monty out for a walk. In the meantime, I have resorted to taking him out for a wander inside my coat so that he can begin to get used to all the sights and sounds of the Big Smoke as I push Poppy in her buggy. I am not entirely sure why I received such strange looks……surely everyone carries a dog in their Barbour, dear Reader?!

Monty’s first portrait!

Alongside the Brilliance in Blogging awards shortlisting (which is fantastic and many many thanks to those of you who voted for me), I have some other exciting news to share this week, dear Reader. This month will see the launch of Monty’s own blogging adventures and he and I will be sharing our puppy ups and downs as a monthly featured blog on the National Farmers Union’s Countryside website and magazine here so do look out for us! The first installment will be published next week and Monty and I are looking forward to seeing our names in print – huge thanks to NFU Countryside for making it happen!

Monty and his cuddly pheasant

PS…..Being on the Britmums Brilliance in Blogging awards shortlist is truly marvellous and I cannot thank those of you who nominated me enough. There are TONS of fantastic blogs on the list. They all deserve a vote in my opinion and I am honoured to considered among them. Do vote for your favourites at Britmums – I know I speak for all the bloggers when I say it means such a lot to us that you read and follow our capers!

Spots, feathers and fowl!

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Our indoory springtime!

Well what a week it has been! Just when I thought that things were settling back down to normal, Primrose, after weeks and weeks of exposure at nursery, finally contracted chickenpox! Spotty blisters all over her forced lockdown at the cottage and the girls and I tried to keep ourselves busy to help distract Primrose from feeling too itchy! A whole week in quarantine was not easy and we were on the verge of madness on several occasions. The girls and I painted, made egg box daffodils, constructed sets of Playmobil, baked and used a great deal of glitter and shiny sequins from Primrose’s Mister Maker box despite my innate control freakiness! Most strange……we are never THAT crafty in our house! Watching Primrose and Poppy playing really nicely together when they are usually at loggerheads over toys, I started to think that chickenpox had also delivered some sort of weird spell over the cottage. It was at this moment that I had a brainwave…. Perhaps it was listening to too much of Bob the Builder’s mantra (brainwashing as Jerry likes to call it) of ‘Reduce, Reuse, Recycle’ or perhaps I was having one of those Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest kind of moments, BUT I suddenly decided to test out my upholstery skills. I know, I know, dear Reader, upholstery skills! This, coming from the woman who was flummaxed for an hour when trying to set up her sewing machine, the same woman who made sewing on name tapes look like a marathon. To cut a long story short, my Chesterfield sofa has been losing feathers at an alarming rate and more than one dinner party guest has received an unwelcome pinch of the bottom so something had to be done and sooner rather than later! The plan: to make a new inside cover to stop the feathers from spilling it. A challenge but I thought that with my dear Mamma’s help, I might just be able to have a good go at it. Apparently it is never a good idea to attempt such things unless one has experience……..

I promise no chickens, ducks or geese were harmed in the mending of this cushion!

I don’t think that I have seen my lovely Mamma laugh for that long in some time! I have to admit it was very funny, dear Reader. The kitchen looked more like a chicken plucking factory than an upholsterers and at some point whilst I was sewing the seams on the new inside covers, my mother did question why I hadn’t paid the £80 to have them done professionally! I blame the Great British Sewing Bee for encouraging one and all to sew……let’s face it some of us just do not cut the mustard! A few hours later, some wonky lines of sewing courtesy of the machine (a bad workmen always blames his tools) and a lot of wheezing (turns out I had inhaled rather a lot of dander), my cushions were all sewn up and the cushions could go back on. Mission accomplished but I do think that if they go again, I might just take them to the shop up the road to have them properly upholstered! I can’t see the stitches holding for long…

Luckily for all at Margot and Jerry HQ, a phonecall from Barbara saved the house from further making do and mending inspired Margot moments! An offer to save us from chickenpox chaos, swapping spots for real chickens, freshly baked scones, scrumptious kitchen suppers and a dose of good old countryside air! Heaven! Weekends with Tom, Barbara and their darling boy are as restorative as a delicious cup of tea…..made in a teapot of course. (Barbara and I berrated Tom over breakfast for using a single teabag in a cup to make the morning brew – not at all the same!) Having introduced us to her new brood of hens, a rather attractive set of ladies, Primrose, Poppy and I were talking of henkeeping all the way home, much to Jerry’s bemusement! A wonderful way to end the Easter holidays.

Not a poxy spot in sight….

Primrose firmly on the mend, it turns out that Poppy has now caught the pox…. Another week of quarantine but at least we have the prospect of our new little chap to keep us going. Only another 3 more days until we bring him home! (Not at all overexcited, dear Reader….)!

Our sweet little Monty…counting down the hours now!

Margot Tries the Good Life

A chronicle of the transformation from self-confessed townie to country bumpkin