Happy New Year

From down on the Farm

Duck and Cava ,followed by liqueur coffee and chocolates to bring in the NY

Tomorrow we start in earnest - once arisen

John

Christmas past

The time of festivities have been gone and will arrive again next week. How did the dream fit in? Well there was a lot of talk, much drinking and plans laid, abandoned and re-laid in various forms Which eco routes to take, Air pumps, ground pumps, advantages, disadvantages? Which got government grants, which did not. And that was the big stuff - then it was - well are the floors wood or not? So up with the fitted carpets - wood mainly bit of combi board around o.k. So we could do ground pumps.

So lets see about radiators and air pumps- where are the rads located? What are they going there!!! All the [pipes show - do we want them to? Lots of questions discussion and more drink to see if it helped the process.

Then of course the lights and the plugs. Where do we want them? They need to be flush with the walls also of course we need a couple of TVs so where and how?

Lots of measurements surely we can get them in there - oh no you can’t oh yes you can in true pantomime fashion, and what about ………….. ???

Lets have another drink and do not forget that we have to eat its Christmas

By now we are 18 and that’s a lot of mouths to feed in a house with no furniture and an old cooker - but we did and the quall were wonderful the salmon exquisite and the rest just wonderful the pudding and the brandy went well and the mince pies were fun We did not have a cake but then we had lots of other things

Now most are gone - 3 remain leaving tomorrow  - more work to, do more thinking, builders, experts and decisions to be made before the NY hits in. We need to get something doing on inside

Inside of yes!!!!!!!!!!!!! I forgot what about the 22 acres outside!!!! There’s a lot to do there ----

So to 2011 I guess

Happy New Year

Eaten

well a short one but yummy yes we have eaten one of them and he was delicious. A wonderful first gift to the farm.  may there be more God willing. Now snow has again beought new sights and clean white vistas over the weekend. Will we get out tomorrow? Do we need to? Not really  so good night

pheasants

Well living in the country one finds that country folk do things as everyday activites that city folk don’t. Going with country way now seems natural to me, has been for several years. When I was a teenager in a small town these were not part of my ken, but I now know maybe just a little bit more of the world and of course my priorities have changed

Being in the country one takes to country ways. I must admit they can be great. It is delightful to be back to the way life might be good and natural.  I know that it can be hard and stressful; maybe I am very lucky. Well I know I am extremely lucky to be where I am, doing what I am doing, when a lot of people and world around seems to be in a state of ideological madness.

Well as we have woodland and that there are shoots at the weekend on either side of us in the woods and open land, we have been asked about allowing the beaters on the land to sweep the birds away into the land where they can shoot.

Well now here is contention. I know shooting is seen as cruel by some. However I say to them, I would agree for sport and killing for the sake of it, but if it is for eating and controlled then I have no problem I suggest that if people are on their high horses on hunting as a form of cruelty, and I am sure in palces it might be, then maybe they should be aware of the cruelty of mass produced meat and the way of killing in the abattoir

So to get back to the story. The beater came around to ask if they could beat through the woods. I said we would give it a try and also because as part of the village it seemed good to assess and allow trails and not be in anyway judgemental of others activities until one knows the whole story. (As a sideline I was against fox hunting in principle until the city folks made it a law )(that I felt was against human rights, that phrase the pious go on about)) – what about the rights of others I said – so solely on the basis of freedom of rights I now support its legality – even though still do not like the idea, it is important in all areas to avoid fundamentalism).

Story line again: so after the shoot, as I was in the garden the beater came and presented me with two very dead pheasants. Complete with, of course, heads feet and feathers. Letting them hang for a few days then preparing them for the pot we are now looking forward to supper tonight. 

In the same vein I am sure many have tried to say sing the following song/poem on occasions.  I give it as a traditional aspect of jollity on this season of good will.

The Pheasant Plucking Song

I'm not a pheasant pluckier; I'm a pheasant plucker’s son

I'm only plucking pheasants 'till the pheasant plucker comes.

Me husband is a keeper, he's a very busy man

I try to understand him and I help him all I can,

But sometimes in an evening I feel a trifle dim

All alone, I'm plucking pheasants, when I'd rather pluck with him.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's mate

I'm only plucking pheasants 'cos the pheasant plucker's late !

I'm not good at plucking pheasants, at pheasant plucking I get stuck

Though some pheasants find it pleasant I'd rather pluck a duck.

Oh plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease

But pheasant plucking's torture because they haven't any grease.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, he has gone out on the tiles

He only plucked one pheasant and I'm sitting here with piles !

You have to pluck them fresh, if it’s fresh they’re not unpleasant,

I knew a man in Dunstable who could pluck a frozen pheasant.

They say the village constable had pheasant plucking sessions

With the vicar on a Sunday ‘tween the first and second lessons.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's mum

I'm only plucking pheasants 'till the pheasant plucker's come.

My good friend Godfrey is most adept, he's really got the knack

He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.

I like to give a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,

It's really all our pheasant plucking keeps us pair together.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's friend

I'm only plucking pheasants as a means unto an end !

My husband's in the forest always banging with his gun

If he could hear me half the time I'm sure that he would run,

For there's fluff in all my crannies, there's feathers up my nose

And I'm itching in the kitchen from my head down to my toes.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's wife

And when we pluck together it's a pheasant plucking life !

A day away

My life takes me to many places and I am often away from home, usually in some far away destination. So far I have visted over 50 countries but there are still a lot more to go.

Yesterday was my first journey away from the 'dream' No great adventure but interesting as it was to a new staion and a new car journey. Arrving back late last night and coming down the drive was a good feeling a coming home - safely and to more dreams of wonder

The finding of the Dream

The journey here

It is strange, yet excepted in a funny sort of way. It seems that this may be the finalisation of a dream set in motion over 5 years ago. A dream, which in its search has spanned continents in the finding of a  ‘place’. A place for expansion of soul, body and spirit. A place to be, but most of all a place to become as one with the universal aspect of our humanity.

The style and focus of the ‘place’ changed over the years of looking, in an attempt to try to fit that which was offered to the dream. Time and time again frustration arose as not all the requirements were met. It might be location, lack of facilities or essentials such as free flowing water.

Journeys to France were frequent, beautiful places seem – in some cases good enough to die for. Yet they lacked that particular something or required so much modernisation it became prohibitive. Similar places arose in Spain, but there it was the climate, the  ‘place’ had to have outdoor work and the searing heat of Spain prohibited that, for us anyway. 

In total contrast we looked at Canada. Working in the cold is easier in some respects than the heat and offers more challenge. Beautiful and alluring as the country was again the place did not reveal itself.   New Zealand, a place I have visited a few times again quintessential beauty but too, too far away from loved ones and people we knew.

Wales of course and Scotland were ideal places but here transport to the ‘place’ was difficult. To be remote yes but to be a hassle to get to, no. This would inhibit others from visiting.  We thought we had found it at last in Wales, on the border, but no, too expensive, friends purchased that wonderful place and they have done wonders with the centre they have established there in so short amount of time.

So after many journeys, visits and disappointments we settled in Hastings. Only now is it clear why this happened. We had no desire to neither be there nor interest in the area. Yet it became home and finally when the ‘place’ was found a wrench to leave, with it amazing views, fantastic garden and location and all the joys that Hastings, an amazingly vibrant town had to offer.

As the universe moves in it own pace and with its own reality a place appeared when least expected. In fact when the search had ceased and we had settled to other ways of working but maybe in the background waiting for the moment of the dream.

Yes, and that is how it was, settled and happy the ‘place’’ was thrust under our noses and means arrived to purchase. It was not easy, things needed to be found, mortgages obtained, plans laid yet with alarming clarity it was clear that here was the ‘place’, if we could keep faith then it would evolve. Over three months of waiting, planning and thinking we moved in, in November this year. A week later we were snowed in. Wonderful!

more to follow

6th December