Tag Archives: Life After London

Summer’s end

You’ll have to forgive me, dear Reader.  Honestly I only crept through the door in the back of the wardrobe for five minutes for a little peace and quiet and next thing I know, spring has sprung and summer was giving us a last hurrah.  I didn’t mean to stay in Narnia so long but somehow the longer I stayed away, the more I was able to focus on the most important things or rather people in my life.  I’ve been working on a series of new projects at the writing desk and at the farmhouse too so the outside world has been lost to me for a time.  Too often I forget to just enjoy the moment.  Taking an extended break from the blog was not really part of the plan initially but I think it’s helped me to focus on what I do want to achieve and not worry about dividing myself into thousands of parts in order to get things done.  To be honest I wasn’t sure that if the blog was perhaps relevant any more or whether or not it would be missed if it just slipped away quietly.  A crisis of confidence shall we say, dear Reader.  So this little break has made me have a long hard think about where I’d like to be and how I move forward with my writing.  In short it’s been good for me.  Before I knew it, the time whooshed past and I’d no idea what or if I’d missed anything important in the land of blogs and social media and magazine columns or life in little Insta squares.  So thank you for bearing with me.  I promise not to be away again for so long.

I am sure you are wondering what’s been happening at the farmhouse?  Well we’ve had a few new arrivals and we reached our first milestone – 1 year at the farmhouse.  I still can’t quite believe it but somehow this beautiful little plot and house are ours and although we still have a long way to do in terms of renovating it, we are all so very happy.  Oh the things I have to tell you, dear Reader.

Since the ducks arrived, there has been nothing but trouble.  They are bonkers and such excellent time wasters.  Luckily they are so adorable otherwise I’d envisage crispy duck on the horizon.  On the hen front, we lost our lovely Cream Legbar hen Marj and we decided to go in search of another blue egg hen, ending up with Minnie and her husband Winston.

Things didn’t turn out so well with Winston sadly and he began attacking everyone and everything in sight, resulting in drawing blood almost every day from one of us.  The children were too terrified to even collect the eggs.  So he had to go.  With no hope of rehoming him because of his aggression, he ended up in the pot.  Not an easy decision but a necessary one.  I remain ever in awe of our girls that they aren’t horrified by the idea of animals loved and cared for becoming food for the table.  Who would have thought that Margot and Jerry could produce such country folklings?

Then came the geese.  Three plump Embden beauties we thought we’d call George, Lucy and Martha.  As seems to now be the way of all things Margot and Jerry HQ, we ended popping over to see our log man and leaving the wood yard with more livestock.  I seem to be on speed dial for rehoming animals.  Turns out that Martha was actually an Arthur and Lucy more of a Luke.  So we have renamed them the Three Tenors – Luciano, Placido and Jose.  Much more fitting when they offer up a merry honk every time someone appears on the driveway!  They are all looking rather less muddy these days and have been a welcome addition to the pond.  Although the ducks are rather less keen on their daily raids on the feeder and bolshy teenage gosling antics.  We had hoped for the tiny splish of webbed feet when Daisy our most maternal duck sat on her eggs for a week or two.  Overnight, she lost them all to a rather cunning rat or stoat.  A rather sad end to spring but I’ve come to accept that nature is all part of farmhouse life.  We’ve promised Poppy and Primrose an incubator for next year.

The lavender harvest was a wonderful success and I am eternally thankful to all who purchased wreaths and bunches from us this summer.  It’s true what they say about small business owners – we do do a little dance every time someone buys something from us.  I couldn’t have managed cutting rows and rows all by hand without a lot of help from friends and family and it has made me more determined than ever to see this little farmhouse business idea succeed.

I’ve also formed a lovely partnership with the talented Saskia from Saskia’s Flower Essences and this year, she took some of our lavender to distill into oil and hydrosol to make her wonderful Easy Sleep spray.  I’m a great believer in the power of plants and flowers and this has certainly been a hit in our household – think This Works but better.  Saskia has a magic touch.

There’ll be a little more before Christmas with some firelighters and a few other bits and bobs but for now, lavender season is well and truly at an end.  The four of us have breathed a huge sign of relief not to have to pick, make wreaths or handle lavender for a wee while.  Watch this space as we develop a new website for Cricket Lavender next year.

Carrying on the countryside capers, our new kitchen garden has been a stonking success.  I’m quite certain that Jerry and I might not have been quite so grumpy about the back breaking work of turning a patch of turf into a vegetable garden if we’d known just how much one small patch could produce.  We’ve had enough to feed half the village, dear Reader!

From wonky carrots and mammoth marrows to leaks of another kind and time travel.  As the house renovations rumble on, we experienced our usual chaos when the attic was cleared to make way for new insulation.  Turns out that all our ancient pipes are in desperate need of replacing and as the attic was cleared, a rather large leak was found that we’re lucky hadn’t brought down the ceilings.  Goodness only knows how many years it had been gushing water.  Emergency plumber drafted in, I prayed that our attic related calamities might be at an end.  However, the farmhouse had other plans, dear Reader.  In the space of a few hours, to add to the Cluedo-esque lead piping, we battled with a couple of loose cannon hornets as well as accidentally scooping up two live bumblebee nests.  The silver lining?  A miraculously intact copy of the Daily Mail from 3rd October 1923 was found, complete with front page story featuring a certain moustached German politician by the name of Hitler alongside another headline about a cow rampaging through a village and injuring three people.  A Cow’s Day Out indeed.  The paper has been framed and will be hung in the downstairs loo for posterity, joining another find in the form of  a yellowing edition of The Sun from July 1980 with the headline Russian Spy Plot.  You’ll be pleased to hear that the bumblebees made a great escape too and were collected by a bee man under cover of darkness to be rehomed in a local copse, dear Reader.

In short as you can see, dear Reader, the last few months have been eventful in many ways.  As autumn creeps in, I am back at the writing desk and the house is quiet except for dogs snoring.  Don’t tell Poppy and Primrose but I do miss them when we are back to our old routines of school and work.  However I know that September always brings new adventures, dear Reader and I’m ready for them.

PS – if you’re on Instagram, I’ve started a little hashtag to curate all the mists and mellow fruitfulness of autumn.  I’d love you to join in too – just add #usheringautumnin  to your post and I’ll choose favourites each week to share on a Friday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midsummer magic

A little midsummer rose magic

Perfect for Thumbelina!

With midsummer here at last, I’ve been wondering if we have been touched by a bit of that good old midsummer magic of late.  Don’t worry we weren’t last seen dancing naked at dawn around a stone circle or joining a load of druids on a pilgrimage to mark the summer solstice.  (Although, Jerry swears he was on the 18:23 from Waterloo with Druid Arthur Uther Pendragon on Friday night).  No, nothing all ‘Glasto’ drastic as that.  However, trundling along the parish boundaries in an ancient village church tradition to bless the fields and the beauty of our little patch of countryside, I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps  Jerry and I had gone native, dear Reader.  In a month or two, it will be the anniversary of our first year here and it is difficult to imagine us anywhere else these days. Continue reading

Two weeks to go!

flowers

Nothing like a bit of flower picking to escape having to pack!

Can you believe it?!  We only have two weeks left in the Big Smoke.  The countdown is ticking away and I have, so far, lived up to my ‘Last minute Lavinia’ nature or what my dear Mamma lovingly refers to as my ‘ostrich syndrome’.  Nothing packed and very little sorting completed.  Might have to do something about that pretty sharpish as can’t bear the thought of the removal men packing up my knicker drawer!  To my list of achievements (and procrastinations regarding the move) this week I can add the following: talking about sorting through all our clutter (very important to waste time thinking about decluttering before getting on with it) and somehow managing to dye a significant portion of Primrose’s hair green.  A lesson for us all, dear Reader: do NOT use a CD/DVD green indelible marker to name a sunhat in haste.  Apparently not so permanent if the hat gets wet…

You will be pleased to hear though, dear Reader, that I have managed to somehow brave our hellish furnace of an attic and take some offending items to the charity shop.  Unwanted wedding gifts from eight years ago which have moved house twice, a glass chess set from Venice that both Jerry and I have always hated, two Moroccan tea tables…(one can be justified, two is just too much Morocco)!  After much debate about whether or not we should keep a car seat for our grandchildren, I realised that I was surprisingly sad about how quickly time has flown by and perhaps that could explain my fondness for avoiding the inevitable!  Of late it seems that Jerry, the girls and I have been saying so many goodbyes….

Yet more sorting to sort out..

Yet more sorting to sort out..

Sod’s law too, that after 6 years of living in SW London, I discover a rather lovely new friend just as we are about to leave the Big Smoke.  I only wish I had met her years ago but maybe then I might never have decided to leave London at all.  Her website Life After London is such a fount of knowledge for all those moving and she has helped so many in their quest for the good life, it seems only fitting that I should be added to her list of ‘jobs well done’!  I only hope that I do live up to her fabulous remarks about me and manage to fit nicely into the new life waiting for us all.  I do hope that she and her rather delicious children will come and visit us very soon to make sure we are doing it right.  I have promised not to give her any more jam in the meantime!  When Margot met Bee. 

With all these lavish farewells I seem to be bidding, there is nothing like the playful chiding of a dear old friend to bring one back down to earth, with a quip of “You’re only moving to Hampshire.  It isn’t the moon!”  Minty was, of course, entirely correct, dear Reader!!  It seems as if the gods agreed with her too and felt the need to put things back into perspective for me as this morning whilst walking Monty in a slightly bleary eyed state and carrying Poppy in the backpack, I stumbled down a rabbit hole.  No Alice jokes please, dear Reader…..  Thankfully it was fairly early and there were not many dog walkers about to see my comedy fall, watch me hobble to the car with dearest Primrose acting as human crutch as she gave me her ‘expert’ medical opinion of “It will probably go black and fall off”.  Reassuring.  My ankle is now an old lady’s ‘cankle’ and I have taken Primrose’s treatment advice: “I think that you need a good long sit down and a drink, Mummy!”  Gin, deep heat and a seat in the sunshine with my new ‘countryside kitchen’ book, courtesy of some very lovely old school chums – not strictly Dr Primrose’s orders but surely, these things are open to interpretation, dear Reader?!  I shall never get round to doing any of the packing at this rate…..

Can't wait to try some of the recipes out!!

Can’t wait to try some of the recipes out!!

All the fun of the fair

Oooh I love a country fair!

Oooh I love a country fair!

Jerry and I decided that amidst the moving mania, we ought to make time to experience a few country pursuits before the packers and boxes descend on us (also because I am known for my ‘last minute Larry’ attitude towards such things and the move feels like ages away)!  So we packed ourselves off (sorry couldn’t resist the pun) to Highclere aka Downton Abbey for the day and set about enjoying all the sights and sounds of the Highclere Countryman fair!  Country fairs, dear Reader, are the summer staple for countryside lovers and a bit of a firm favourite with Jerry and I, bringing back memories of the county shows of our childhoods.

Well, it really didn’t disappoint, the whole day was UTTERLY brilliant.   Falconry displays, jousting knights, a food festival tent and hundreds of country stalls from the sublimely satisfactory amount of  tweed to the hilarious including a wonderful double take moment when I spied a  ‘I’m a NOB’ badge.  Yes…dear Reader…a badge for members of the National Organisation of Beaters and Pickers Up.  Bet you didn’t know they were using that acronym!  I was also astonished by the sheer volume of countryside gear on offer.  Just how many camouflage jackets and boiler suits does one need in the countryside?  Thank goodness, I had read all the helpful country fashion advice put together by the lovely Bea at Life After London (with help from Out of the City) otherwise I might have come away with some outfits that would really turn heads in our new village!

Primrose has not stopped talking about the real knights jousting!

Primrose has not stopped talking about the real knights jousting!

Perhaps the best thing of all was the fact that we could take Monty too!  Child AND dog friendly…!  One can see immediately, dear Reader, why such events are universally popular!  Monty was adored by many a passer-by with ooohs and aaahs of  “Is he is a Springer?  He looks just like…” and was thoroughly chuffed with the overwhelming number of opportunities for hoovering up leftover lunches!  He was also glued to the Gundog Field Trials and loved watching all the dogs retrieving and jumping over bales!  I wondered if he was sizing up the competition for next year’s Countryman fair!  Jerry and I (well I say Jerry but it was mostly me) got thoroughly carried away with all the ‘doggy’ stands and we came away with yet another lead for the Montster.  That would be lead number 3…..  I just can’t help myself!

After 4 hours or so of carrying Poppy, Jerry and I called time on the fair, especially as Poppy was considerably heavier after demolishing a hog roast sandwich with all the trimmings and poor old Jerry was developing every parent’s worst nightmare, “Backpack Back”.  With sleepy children and a pooped puppy, we headed back to town and vowed that we would go again next year.  Leaving Highclere, Jerry even managed to have the girls spotting ‘Lannies’ (his Land Rover obsession has reached fever pitch now the move is looming closer).  It would seem that every journey is now to be accompanied by the excited whoops of ‘LANNY’ from Poppy and Primrose….so the sooner Jerry has one, the better, dear Reader!

LANNNNNNYYYY!

LANNNNNNYYYY!