Country life
Mrs B’s Irish Adventure!
Posted on Feb 24, 2010 at 02:56 PM
Well this Friday is when I shall be jetting off to sunny (you can only hope) Ireland! Although having an element of Irish blood running through my veins, I have never ventured there before. I have booked myself into a couple of nice hotels one being in Galway and the other near Knock which is situated on a lake which sounds perfectly romantic (not that I will be with the love of my life, but even so it will be a nice place to read a good book).
As I don't know much about the area I was wondering if any of you know of any good places to visit in County Mayo? I would very much like to go to a ‘good old Irish pub' where I can hear some live music and of course the infamous Irish singing, Hi diddly, diddly, do!! And any ideas on places and what to eat would be helpful.
Many thanks in advance...
B x
Little Lost Lucky
Posted on Feb 18, 2010 at 03:58 PM
We live in a small village in Kent. We have two neighbours to speak of, one being a pub and the other an elderly couple in the cottage over the way. Sally, the wife keeps horses and breeds them for racing. She exercises them just over the little lane from our house on a piece of land which also has a couple of old unused stables on it.
Five years ago, there was a knock at the door and Sally, standing in her usual attire of an old green jacket, woolly hat and muddy green Wellington boots began to tell us of a mysterious find.
She had as usual gone over with her two horses to let them off in the field, when she heard a shuffling and banging around in one of the old stables. Tentatively she went to inspect the noise. Before she opened the door she discovered a note which had been pinned to it. The note read as follows;
‘Do not move this horse, it is ours and we will be back to collect it in three days. We are travellers and will not cause your property any harm as long as you do not move this horse or contact the police'.
Sally then opened the door, and there staring up at her with big brown sorrowful eyes was a foal, it was a miniature Shetland pony! Sally was unsure what to do, she had her horses to worry about and her home, and after the somewhat threatening note didn't want to put them in jeopardy but was concerned for the foal as it looked very young. Sally did what she could for it leaving it food and water which it clearly had not been given.
After being told we decided that being we don't know the situation, perhaps the travellers didn't have a stable for it until they moved on or some such thing we would do as the note suggested.
That evening my mother came for dinner and in the course of conversation said "did you here about that little foal on radio Kent today"? she then went on to relay a piece of news she had heard. A young Shetland pony had been stolen away from its mother. Lucky (the foal's name) was in grave danger as it had not been weaned and was on special medication as it was sickly she went on to give a description of Lucky. The owner was on the radio begging for people to look out for him. Naturally when hearing this I jumped to my feet and told her of the pony left over the lane. Running to the kitchen to grab a torch I scurried over the lane. There in the gloom I peered into the old stable shining the torch on the foal to see if it fits the description given out on the radio. It was very dark, but from what I could work out it seemed a match! I came home and without thinking of the possible consequences rang Radio Kent. They put me in touch with the owner who sounded exhausted. It turns out that many people had rung in saying they have sighted Lucky but after touring Kent none have turned out to be him. I said that I couldn't be sure it was her horse, as I don't know much about them myself but it may be worth a look. The owner was pretty sure it was not going to be Lucky, but said she would come by tomorrow.
When she arrived, feeling a little worried that a may have wasted her time and hopes I took her over the lane to the stable.
Upon opening the doors and going inside, the owner dropped to her knees and grabbed the little lost foal. Weeping with joy she said "Lucky, I found you"! I
Became overwhelmed and started to cry myself. The lady was uncontrollably kissing and hugging the pony screaming with joy.
She said that the mother had been beyond consolable at not having her foal with her, and the family have been distraught as they had all become so attached to Lucky. They had named him Lucky due to the illness he had, and was very lucky to be alive in the first place.
The owner sat on the back seat of her car with the pony on her lap! While her husband drove them all back home...
A few days later she came back to see me with a card and present. She was so happy to be able to reunite Lucky with his mother and so grateful that I had ignored the threatening note and got in contact with her.
Thankfully we never heard from the thieves again in fact I don't think they even bothered to come back to the stable to check on poor little Lucky. Looking back on that, I can honestly say that was one of the most happy, memorable days of my life.
Bx
Mrs B's caramelised Tartletts
Posted on Feb 18, 2010 at 02:41 PM
Using up what I have in the fridge today I have discovered a nice little snack or starter...
Our Tiny Nutkins!
Posted on Feb 18, 2010 at 10:58 AM
A few years ago we became foster parents to a very unusual baby...
One afternoon, while sitting in the kitchen, the children and I heard the most almighty scream outside. Running to the window we surveyed the garden for activity. The cat was under the hedge playing with a small creature of some description. Judging by terrible shrieks echoing around the house I thought that it must be a baby rabbit (as I have heard them make a similar sound when caught by a fox). We all went dashing outside and shooed the cat away. There laying on the grass was the tiniest little squirrel, still making a lot of noise but seemingly unharmed by the cats advances.
I asked my son to run in and get an old tea towel, so I could pick it up, as I was unsure whether having human scent on it would somehow impede its mother's natural instinct on taking it back, as with birds. It was clear that this was a very, very young little squirrel, and needed to be back in its nest. I rang the RSPCA for advice. They were a little uninterested to say the least and suggested that I put it close to where I thought the nest would be and soon enough its mother would appear and take it back.
After laying it on a safe place in a tree we all waited patiently for the mother to return, periodically checking that it was ok. We waited.... Waited....and waited but there was no sign of its family and after 3 hours decided to seek some more advice.
I looked up squirrel rescue on the net, and found a place in Hampshire that was very helpful. The gentleman said that by the sound of it, the squirrel must be around 6 weeks old and therefore not yet weaned. He also said that unfortunately the mother would not return and if we wanted to save it, the only hope would be if I became its surrogate mother! He went on to explain the recipe for its milk, and it would need feeding every 3 hours. We would also have to rub gently its bottom so that it would be able to poo!! (this, as you can imagine was very alarming to the boys)
I decided that I would take on this unexpected role and after the children made a nice little bed in an old hamster cage we had, proceeded to the local supermarket to get the ingredients; goats milk, natural yogurt and baby liquid vitamins. I also picked up a ‘dropper' from the pharmacy in order to feed it.
We where dedicated as a family to getting our squirrel, now aptly named ‘Nutkins' to adulthood and so embarked on a regular feeding schedule. I remember having my alarm clock wake me up at 2am and then at 5, going downstairs and warming the milk and feeding little Nutkins in the dark of night. I also remember going out for a day trip to Dover Castle, amongst others, having the cage with dear little Nutkins in the boot, so that I could run back and feed him! That baby squirrel was fastly becoming the best travelled in the world.
After a few months we put him in a large cage in the garden changed his diet to seeds and taught him how to open nuts (this apparently doesn't come naturally and is learnt from the mother... us)!
Finely, after several months we left the cage open, and he would go in and out, until one day he finely went altogether.
We were sad to see him go, but were so happy to have been able to save him. For a while he would regularly come back and visit us, and we would feed him his sunflower seeds (of which he was most fond) and he would play with us, climbing on our heads and running up our arms jumping through the trees, as if he were showing off his new skills... I am aware that many people veiw squirrels as vermin and woulnt have done the same, but as far as I am concerned, it was a little life that was well worth saving. Although we haven't seen him for a while now, I like to believe he is now a father himself and is enjoying life in the wild which at times when I feel a little low gives me a warm feeling inside.
Bx
The Sweet Taste Of Summer. . .
Posted on Feb 06, 2010 at 05:55 PM
We have just opened one of the last remaining bottles of our Elderflower Champagne and what a delightfully, delicate drop of bubbly it is too!!!
Last summer I watched with glee our Hugh and John mix up this fine concoction in big buckets on the show. I remember turning to the family and saying "well that has got to be worth a go".
The following morning as the sun rose high in the summer sky and the birds twittered in the colourful hedgerows, with all green things growing, armed with baskets and scissors the family and I went, a' hunting for big, beautiful, blooms of elderflowers. To be fair we didn't have to go far, for just out the gate at the bottom of the garden and along the byway that runs up the field in front of our house, there can be found a whole host of elderberry trees.
Excitedly, we picked the flowers, brought them home and proceeded to get on with the task in hand. Within the hour our very own ‘Cottage Chateau' was born, right here in the heart of Kent!
I have held a few of the bottles back for the winter season for two reasons; 1. (and the prime reason to be honest with you) the alcohol content would hopefully be higher and 2. for the nostalgia. The second reason has certainly paid off... with one sip I am transported back to the long summer days and warm evenings sitting in the garden, with the faint smell of elderflowers wafting over the hedge. With a second mouthful I can almost hear the sound of horsesssssssss clllipp cloppppping past andddd..... errr, ohhhhh, thinkkkkk the firsttt reason has alsooooo starteddddddto take effffffect,
Hic up!
Bx
Answer this question
Posted on Jan 20, 2010 at 12:38 PM
What is the best joint of beef to buy for the most dripping please???
Pears Poached In Ginger beer
Posted on Jan 17, 2010 at 07:03 PM
This is EEEEASY, anyone could do it (even my dear tuna and pasta friend), the results are fantastic! Great to make in advance and keep in the fridge for a stand by weekday pud.
Life's Little Thrills
Posted on Jan 02, 2010 at 09:52 PM
Its funny isn't it? How days can go by without anything in particular or out of the ordinary happening, where you can remember feeling so amazed or excited that you cant hold back a smile (even if it is a little one) to yourself... Today however, I am pleased to report, was a different story.
I wrote a Blog earlier in the summer about our chickens. Basicaly one of our girls was broody and I had been told that if I put fertilised eggs under her she would hatch them. I sceptically brought some from Ebay popped them under her and ‘Bobs your uncle Charlie's your aunt', 21 days later they emerged and we had 4 little yellow fluffy chicks to look after.
I had been worried that we would have more than one cockerel as statistically I am told that was more than likely to be the case. Happily we were lucky and had only the one...Thank the Lord!!
They are all grown now and our cockerel (the first we have ever had) appropriately named by the children ‘The Stig', being the first to hatch, is now the biggest of all our chickens. We have waited patiently, not only for the laying of more eggs by the new hens, but for Stig to start his crowing in the mornings... This morning our waiting had ended!
I went as usual, plodding over the frosty grass, to let the chickens out of their shed, greeting the garden Robin, who is inevitably foraging around the outside picking up remnants of chicken food and flies into the apple tree as I approach. Opening the hatch, they all run out. I love to spend a few moments (while standing in my PJ's, wellies and over coat with Mr Robin perched above my head) just watching them and hoping for Stig to perform his first ever arietta for me, his single audience. Although it was more like a rehearsal today he desperately tried to perfect the notes. . . Cock-a-do-dal-doooo it sounded more like Co-doda-ooooogh, but I knew what he meant. As I walked back to the kitchen I was smiling and couldn't wait to tell the rest of the household...
A friend said recently to "appreciate the small things in life", well, this was a small thing to most people I am sure, but for me and The Stig it was a momentous, monumental, moment that we both shared together this morning on the 2nd of January 2010.
Bx
SNOW BBQ!
Posted on Dec 21, 2009 at 11:19 AM
As you are probably already well aware it was Friday that saw the first of the seasons snow here in ‘The garden of England', Kent.
I woke up to discover that around 6" had fallen and it was absolutely stunning outside. I could hear the children scurrying to their window and squeals of excitement echoed around the house as they looked upon the Winter Wonderland that had appeared almost magically overnight. My first thoughts were ones of making the most of this splendiferous gift (as I am a big kid when it comes to snow), and immediately started considering the prospect of having a BBQ. Yes, yes, why the hell not... A Snow BBQ!! Before letting on to the family of my somewhat obscure idea, I decided to listen for the school closures on the local radio station to see if the children would be off that day. After finding out that many of the schools across Kent were in fact shut, including ours, I then sent out a few invites to friends and neighbours to see if they would like to join us for an alfresco lunch that afternoon, which would, of course follow a good tobogganing session in the morning.
I made up my own adaptation of Mr Whitingstall's ‘Tupperware Chorizo' (taken from the everyday book) and formed them into patties. Then I made some beef burgers with fresh Rosemary, onion, chilli, mustard and ketchup (which keeps them nice and moist) and kept them in the fridge until everyone arrived.
The BBQ was a great success and in true River Cottage style the Mulled wine, mixed baked beans in chilli sauce along with my burgers went down very well indeed.
We all stood around the glowing coals keeping warm as we took in the breathtaking views around us and I was content and happy that we had made the most of the weather. Its times like these when memories are made isn't it? What's the proverb? Carpe diem something - "Seize the day" ...I think we did.
Cold and bright
Winter light
Bundle up
With all your might
Cheery faces
Noses red
Is it time to
Get the sled?
Down the slope
Swooping low
Watch out, people,
Down below!
Like a skier,
Like a bird,
Only swishing
Silence heard.
Many times we
Sled the hill
Many a whoop
And many a spill
'Til at last
Mom calls us home
Soup and cocoa
Make us warm.
Time for bed now
Sleepyhead
Dream of future
Days to sled.
Winter wonders
Sweet delights
Snowy days
And frost-filled nights;
Memories are
Made of this
Childhood times
Of snowy bliss.
Bx
Frosty, Frozen Mornings
Posted on Dec 16, 2009 at 10:12 AM
After 16 days of sweltering heat and humidity in the Far East, I have returned to find myself in the midst of England's wondrous winter beauty.
The exotic landscape of lush green rainforests and turquoise crystal sea's, which I had yearned to see before my trip are now a fading memory. I am now content and happy to feel the depths of the good old British winter.
I feel very lucky to be living in the heart of the North Downs in Kent. Every morning I come down stairs in anticipation to see my favourite view of all and it's not the other side of the world, it's outside my kitchen window!
The view is lovely through all the seasons; Spring, when all the trees are bursting into life; Summer, when the poppy's are dotted through the golden field of corn, taking on all the characteristics of a Monet painting and then Autumn, as the leaves change into an artists pallet of varying colours. . . But all that being said, it is now when I can have the best view of all and I look forward to peering on it all year.
Where I live, we have an abundance of pheasants with regular shoots going on a few hundred yards up the road, taken from my local pub aptly named ‘The Cock'. Our house being well appointed at the bottom of the hill and in the valley looks onto the fields and downs. In the morning when the frost is heavy I wait patiently with a mug of coffee, for the sun to appear over the hill. As this little scene takes shape I wait for a couple of pheasants to wonder across as if directed by a stage manager. Sometimes, if they are in the right place, the sun will hit them and its then when I am overwhelmed by the beauty of their golden metallic colours against the shimmering frosty backdrop. A picture so perfect could not be orcastrated and I never know which morning I am going to be dazzled by it...But, I always look.
Bx
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