Monday 25 January 2010
Fox In The Henhouse
15:14 | 
Posted by
Christine Balmer |
We've decided to have chickens...five of them (though i'm hoping to slip a 6th one in there). This charming outbuilding is just aching to be filled with something alive and wholesome. The children and I rolled up our sleeves, pushed our hands through a jungle of cobwebs and began to clear out the old brick shed. The door creaked open like a haunted house as we made our way into the tiny space. It was a mess! Fencing posts, bags of concrete that had seen entirely too much moisture and a lovely plastic file box filled with old paint brushes and black murky water with a tie dye pattern of oil on its surface.
After pulling out bricks, old pieces of wood and swept the debris away we decided it was time to think about the birds. We found a roll of chicken wire in one of the grassy areas being held captive by a tangle of blackberry vines. After we pulled it out and discovered no rust to be found, we set about making plans!
The large hole on the front of the new Chicken coop would be covered in chicken wire and plywood would be semi-attached 2/3 of the way up. Removable so that in warmer weather it could be stowed away. Nesting boxes and a perching shelf have been carefully designed on paper with things around this old farm that were piled into corners and sheds.
Soon we'll be finished adding shavings for the nesting boxes and hay for the cold brick floor, the door will be flung open and we'll go to the farm shop and pick out our five (OR SIX!) birds! ...being England...we better be on the watch for a fox in the hen house. (More pictures tomorrow)
Wednesday 13 January 2010
Oh how things are different...METRIC HELL!
Well, it has been an interesting journey so far...everything is metric and can you believe it, people WEIGH their flour here instead of just filling up 1 or 2 cup measures *sigh*. I was hoping to make some popovers and thought an authentic pan (like the one i left behind) would be a nice touch. You can't find one ANYWHERE. More to the point, no one knows what is it! So discouraging. We've made our way to ASDA (basically walmart) to specialty cooking supply shops where a spatula can easily run you $40.00. You think someone in there would know what a Popover pan is. Oh well, perhaps its time to get reacquainted with ebay and simply import the things i would like to have...like an American cookbook, that's not all measured in Metric with REAL recipes. I don't think i've ever encountered the use of Lard so frequently in my life until i perused a couple of the cookbooks here. It may sound like i'm grumpy, but if you could see me, my eyes are alight with awe at the differences and discoveries. I've made a lovely batch of Yorkshire pudding and then was unable to do it again. I must have thrown 5 batches in the bin (trash) but have been unable to repeat the success of my beginners luck.
Sunday 3 January 2010
Into the second week
It's Sunday evening, the children are in bed...well almost. My nine year old is prancing around above stairs singing "Feliz Navidad", his dancing footsteps translate to loud "booms" though the house. He's had a very exciting day and really should have passed out ages ago, but at this point, overstimulation is his fuel.
This morning we woke bright and early, readied the children and skipped breakfast altogether. None of us were really hungry and Mike and I had a coffee as we planned our day. His father would be coming 'round at about 1pm so all the things we wanted to do we would have to do before he got here. I was very eager to meet his father and so rescheduling the visit wasn't something we wanted to do. Not to mention, it would be very rude.
We piled the children into the near frozen car and set out towards the direction of the morning sun. The temperature in the car read -3 C and only just a few days ago the heater decided that now would be the best time to stop working. Surprisingly, it was rather comfortable in the car, i think heat oozes out into the car and perhaps its the blowers that don't actually work properly.
We made our way through the snowy contryside to the lovely town of Lincoln. I had seen from our last visit that there were altogether too many things to see in Lincoln and I was very excited to continue our explorations. When last we visited Lincoln we did a bit of shopping, it was crowded and we nearly killed ourselves walking down what felt like, miles and miles of cobblestone street, winding this way and that towards the bottom. These lovely little roads are lined with picturesque shops on both sides all packed in tightly together. Lincoln is certainly not lacking in charm.
This visit we decided to explore the old caste and the Cathedral. Upon entering the cathedral we were informed we would not be able to explore too far in as a church service was to start this morning. I looked at this ancient building and thought to myself how impressive it was that it was still used for its original purpose. We walked around taking pictures of the stone carved nativity scene, and entered into the Mary Magdalene Chapel, which i thought had a near magical quality about it. I know, i know, to associate magic with the church is blasphomy, go on then, burn me at the stake, it WAS magical. As though these walls held some hushed secret of time past.
After exploring the cathedral we walked across the shopping area to where the castle stood. Majestic and Mighty it seemed to puff up its proverbial chest on our approach. As though to say "I may be older than everyone you've ever known or heard about, but i'm still strong". We entered in and went towards the gift shop which is where you must purchase your tickets inside. My camera was low on battary power so Mike inquired about AAA's. I was shocked then as I still am, the GIFT SHOP didn't sell battaries!! I was thinking "What? You've got to be kidding me!" They of course will sell flashlights and various other novelties that RUN on battaries. Eventually we got ourselves inside and began walking around the place. There was a Victorian Edwardian prison, its red building seemed to whisper the screams and unhappiness of those who once dwelled within. Its circular backyard taking on the appearance of a "wagon wheel" design from far away was the only outdoor area for prisoners. My family and i decided the best vantage point would be to walk along the "curtain" or the high fortress walls which surround these buildings and gardens. I, not being fond of heights, was a rather nervous wreck but brought to bravery by the camera in my hand and what amazing shots we might take these hundred...perhaps two hundred feet in the air. ok...probably 100 ft. in the air. It certainly FELT higher! We looked out over the grounds at the sprawling "Court" building, which, if i heard the gentleman correctly, was still used to hold court today. Not "court" the royal court, but "Court" meaning, your bootie is brought before the judge kind. It too was an impressive building.
Walking along the curtain we could see the rooftops of the many homes in the city, a much better view of the cathedral and these quant little "terraced" homes that were tucked in behind the castle. We saw crumbling spiral staircases, not fit for use, and the strangest little chapel where each seat has high wood sides and the whole thing is altogether quite vertical. There is a picture below, you can vaguely see these round sort of gray balls in some of the seats, i do believe these were meant to represent heads of those who might sit there. It was a very strange experience this chapel and unlike the cathedral, it had a vibe of death and doom.
We wrapped up our trip with a nice visit to a local tea room and had toasted sandwhiches, coffee and hot chocolate.
When finally we were finished with our journey we came home for a quick tidy up and readied ourselves for Mike's father's arrival. We had a long, lovely visit after which we took the children (and our niece and nephew) down the street to the Farm shop. Nick (Mike's brother) lead the way through the trees on a well worn path that brought us out near a busy street. We continued on down the little hill and finally arrived at the Farm shop. This working farm has a petting zoo for the children, go-cart track, another sort of track with scooters and such, chickens everywhere, a small hatchery and other such animals you would typically see on a farm. We explored it all and as night began to fall we decided to actually make purchase of what we came for. Night settled in like an icy blanket over the land as we packed up our winter vegtables and birdseed and headed off home. Michael lead the procession as we walked, holding the littliest one's hand, the three older children followed and I at the end, making sure no one strayed. I suppose as we left this farm known for its rescue of hundreds of chickens, we ourselves looked liked a row of chickens or ducks, shivering in the cold as we walked home.
It was another marvelous day. Michael goes back to work tomorrow and finally the schools and local counsels will be open so i can call about the children's enrollment into school. Things should be less busy around here in terms of outings and so on, but housework begins. Its time to set into a normal life, though, i'm sure even with the laundry, it will be lovely.
Saturday 2 January 2010
Week 1
In every fairy story I have ever read the last line reads "and they lived happily ever after" but what REALLY happens in this state of "happily ever after"? I'm living it, and in this blog i will share my happily ever after. Of course, i can't promise it will be problem free or even grumpy-free, but i can tell you, this journey is the happiest I've ever been in my whole life.
We've been in England now a week. Its been a two year journey getting here, falling in love, getting married and deciding we would live in my husband's country. I should have been out of my mind with anxiety, but it has been a really smooth and easy transition so far. Not to say the shock of it all wont hit me later, but i've traveled a bit in my life, and I've had a few anxiety episodes relating to culture shock in the past. It always seems to hit me about 3 or 4 days after arrival. This hasn't happened here.
The air is so clean, the food tastes so good. Not because of some imagined euphoria, but simply because everything is so much fresher here. Of course, i don't live in London, i live in a lovely village near Market Rasen.
This morning my husband and I decided to take the children to explore the historic town of Brigg. Brigg (formerly Glanford Brigg) in North Lincolnshire, England, is a small market town on the River Ancholme with a population of 5,076 in 2,213 households. We walked the snow covered cobbled streets today, so enchanted were we that we barely noticed the cold nipping at our cheeks. We meandered through the market, stopped at a family owned bakery and explored shops, popping in and out of doors along the road. We made only a few purchases; thank you notes for the generous christmas gifts we received, some books from the book store, and stopped off to have a cup of coffee in a local pub. Michael, being a natural father, read the new "Thomas the Train" book to my youngest one while i sat and had a nice chat with my older son.
When we finally returned home and cooked dinner, we decided to take the children up the street to the local pub on the corner. They bundled up against the bluster of cold, carried their new mini flashlights and off we went. We trodded over the small wood bridge, clopping along in a unified line, off into the dark brush and trees behind the local stone homes. We emerged by an old stone church and walked further on past a graveyard that seemed older than time itself. Once in the pub, the children enjoyed a chocolate cake that would make a chocoholic run with fright. Taking a bite myself, i felt like a dog chewing peanut butter as the richness and altogether too chocolaty taste overwhelmed me. I enjoyed a slice of rasperberry cheesecake and a white wine. My husband warmed his insides with a very dark beer that appeared to be sludge from a barrel, but was advertised as a Christmas holiday promotion *YUCK*.
As we walked home i began to feel chilly, wet drops land on my cheeks. Oh Dear! Not more rain! My four year old announced "Look Mom, its SNOWING!!" All giggles and excitement the children completed their walk with faces aimed at the sky and tongues straight out. When we arrived home the children just couldn't be brought inside. Sticky clumps of snow fell from the sky like manna from heaven. Though there was little accumulation on the ground, the boys INSISTED they must play in it. I do believe this was their first time seeing snow fall of this kind. When they finally ventured back in, took a warm bath and were tucked in their beds, sleep came easily.
Today was a lovely day. I was gifted with the warmest smiles from my husband and patience through my irritability as the day started. He is a gift and makes me a much better person. He allowed me to see everything with a different sort of frame of mind. Sharing history, the richness of culture. It isn't just walking around these old places, its about experiencing them. If not for the wealth of knowledge he shares so readily, it wouldn't be half as fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)