A Week In Pictures

 

Above, are my latest purchases from our local Oxfam shop. To be added to the To Read pile. The Richard Flanagan is for Bert. Its subject matter might be too harrowing for me.

The two youngest members of our animal family. They have a peculiar relationship. One minute it's all lovey-dovey, the next... battle royal. Earlier today Chico was trailing Woody around the kitchen floor by the throat. Woody seemed to be taking masochistic delight in it. As I said, peculiar.

Thanks to a few pleasant blue sky days, I was enjoying the garden again. 

After a couple of years in the wilderness, things were taking shape. Even Bert was showing an interest. 

But today. Horrible. Wind, blustery rain, everything being blown about. What I'd give for even three pleasant days in a row.

Which doesn't put the snails off. I've just pulled five of them away from my newly planted nasturtiums. The two pictured are engaging in snail foreplay.  

I am literally experiencing empty nest syndrome. Since my last post the spotted flycatchers have flown away. They are still around, somewhere. I saw them a couple of times but oh how I miss hearing them cheeping and watching the parents fly to and fro answering their pleas for food.

They were not the only ones crying to be fed. A couple of nights ago, after I'd gone to bed, Bert strolled towards the lane. He heard the young owls calling and because he could hear them (he's pretty deaf) knew they were close. He must have disturbed them as they left their perch and flew over his head followed by a parent. I was so jealous when he told me this.

The next night I went to the same spot. I heard the young owls squeaking and then the answering call of the adult long-eared owl. That sounded like a gruff bark. Perhaps that call was meant as a warning. I didn't get to see the owls but was pleased to hear them.

Our snails weren't the only creatures caught in the sexual act.

Lilioceris lilii (Scarlet lily beetle) found fornicating on lilies. 

I've learned a lot about these little pests this past week. They're not native to these islands and have only been around since the 1990s. They have a high sex drive, and lay hundreds of eggs, they squeak when threatened and their grubs hide in squelchy blobs of their own black excrement. They also perform back flips when disturbed, land on their backs and hope not to be spotted as they present their black undersides.

The grubs which survive me will, when fully fed, hide in the soil and emerge next spring and so it begins for another year.

Nice sharp shadows on one of the sunnier days this past week. More of that, please.

Walking in the Woods

Over Christmas and the New Year I got out of the way of walking in the woods. Too busy. Busy cooking, busy eating, busy entertaining. Hannah was much more diligent. Unless she has an all-day work commitment she takes Cleo walking. Rain, snow or shine. Cleo doesn't mind. Pippin does mind and she'll only go out if it's dry underfoot.

Pippin is a walking cat just as Caps, Harry and Holly were before her. Fred didn't care for walks and we wondered whether Woody would be up for it. Today we found out. Hannah got the Dunlop wellies on, Cleo's cue to get very excited. It has been so soggy lately that Pippin has been avoiding the wood but today it was frosty, the mud was hard and she decided to go with them as did Woody, for the first time ever. Pippin showed him the ropes, which paths to take, which trees to climb. He had a great adventure, came back ravenous and ready for a good long nap. 

These past two frosty days I've been back in the woods too. Today I met Bert and the dogs on the lane returning from a walk. Jess went on home with Bert but Cleo came with me for another walk, her third of the day.

When we returned I said to Bert,

Y'know if we'd met a stranger on the lane, maybe some devil, horns, cloven hooves the works, I'm sure she'd have went walking in the woods with him too.

That Was The Week That Was

My Anglo-Irish visitors arrived on Sunday evening. I met them at the airport where James was one of the first off the plane. He jumped up and down with excitement when he spotted me. I would have liked to do that too but, y'know, knees...

I told him,

We don't have the van anymore. We have another car.

He is obsessed with motor vehicles

He said,

Is it a Tesla?

He is particularly obsessed with Tesla cars and was disappointed that Santa Claus did not bring him one at Christmas. This is despite him being ten years too young to hold a driving licence.

I told him it wasn't a Tesla and he asked,

Is it a Landrover?

Fraid not, James. It's a Jeep.

Monday

We had an at-home day. Evie and her parents came out after lunch. Martha had a prior engagement, a sleepover birthday party which sounded exciting. There was an Easter Egg Hunt in the woods and all three children returned laden with chocolate eggs.  

It was lovely to have my three daughters all together and half-listen to the buzz of conversation between them. I made a curried fish pie. Emily told me she hated it. What's not to love about a five-year-old with strong opinions? James has particular food requirements and supper for him is either spag bol or Weetabix. He chose Weetabix. I didn't mind. 

On Tuesday Hannah and I had planned a visit to Portglenone Forest and a picnic with all four of the grandchildren. Zoe intended to spend the day planting native trees in the wood. This didn't happen. When she arrived at the sleepover house to pick Martha up she found that Martha had just had a trampolining accident and had injured her foot so it was off to Accident and Emergency with them. Hannah and I took the rest of the children to Portglenone and Martha was very much missed.

Wednesday

Everyone except Nellybert and Hannah went to the Titanic Experience. Martha had her foot in a cast and she got a complimentary wheelchair. There was a slight worry that they might bump into Joe Biden and get caught up in traffic jams but this did not happen. The President was in a different part of town. I'm told that they did see a huge amount of police on the motorway and it was obvious that they were in riot vehicles as many of them bore the scars of rocks on their bodywork. Happily, there was no trouble in the city during Biden's visit. 

James was most impressed with Belfast. Under his direction, we spent a couple of hours making a city. This involved using all my printer paper and a bunch of Sharpies and drawing buildings and shops and placing cars in the streets.

I was impressed by his drawing of Goliath.

Someone said,

Isn't there a church?

James wanted a church so I said I'd draw one. He said he wanted a graveyard too so he drew the gravestones and the statuary. He's keen on graveyards too and visited two when we were in Portglenone.

That was the last evening I had with my youngest grandchildren as it was off to the airport again on Thursday morning. It was sad to see them go but I made a promise to visit them all during the Autumn half-term which isn't that far away.

The Rest of Thursday

I did nothing. Leitrim Sister came round in the evening to pick up Lulu. I forgot to mention that we were looking after Lulu during the Anglo-Irish visit and she was a great favourite with the little ones. That dog deserves a medal for what she put up with.

Friday

We had the big girls out to help us collect Cleo. Yes. It was time for Cleo to come live with us. Some might say it was a shame that James and Emily didn't get to meet her but I think she had a lucky escape. James did actually get to meet her as Katy called briefly at Laura's house to see the puppies and James got down on the floor and rolled around with them to the slight consternation of his hosts. Emily missed this as she was asleep in the car.

Cleo's First Night

We were going to start her off in a crate and she cried all night. Bert had to go down and comfort her and I heard nothing. It must be hard when a pup is used to eight other familiar bodies to have to sleep alone.

Saturday

Martha and Evie were out again and Zoe, as she still had some trees to plant. While she was doing that the girls and I drove into town to buy Judy a new basket and a few other bits for the pup. Cleo got a lot of attention that day. 

No crate on Saturday night. She slept in Judy's new bed with Judy on the sofa beside her and there wasn't a peep out of her.

Today

Cleo has had a busy day helping Bert in the polytunnel. I think she will sleep well tonight. So will I.

The Old and the Young

 

Spot the odd one out

It seems such a short time since Judy and the pigs were new. All of them reach their teens this summer, which is old for dogs and pigs. Jess is coming eleven so she's not so far behind them while Fred, the oldest of all will soon be fifteen.  Nellybert are feeling a bit creaky too but at least we have Pippin, young and lively and doing well despite her awful accident.

Now, it might be a crazy idea but Pippin won't be the baba of the house for much longer as Nellybert are getting a PUPPY! The pigs won't care, Judy will be stoical, Fred will be mildly put out, Jess will hate it and Pippin? Pippin will be thrilled. Somebody new to play with.

Doggy Day Care

 

Lulu - 7 night stay, full board. Fee - one bottle of Dingle gin.

Nellybert has been doing Doggy Day Care for the last few days. Lulu (above) is still with us and settling into a nice routine. Up bright and early, toilette, breakfast. Back to bed with Bert for two-hour lie-in. Up again around 10, breakfast again, run around yard, follow Nelly everywhere, light lunch, run around yard, hang out with Ziggy, schmooze with every caller, run around yard, stand in front of every vehicle that enters or leaves yard, including farm vehicles, and the bigger the better. Supper, rat patrol, put hens in, bark for 30 minutes, beat Nellybert into submission, sit on laps for an hour or more, evening pee, rat patrol, treat, bed with Nelly, under quilt, of course. Nighty-night. Big sleep, wake up and repeat.

Rex - 2 night stay, full board. Fee - one very good Prosecco which I did not share with Bert.

Rex is back with Swisser. His stay was a short one. Most callers thought him the handsomest collie X in the world. He got on well with Lulu although the two nights they were both here were very hard on Jess who became bad with her nerves. Rex, her litter mate, is naturally dominant which his sister resents. Jess dislikes all her litter mates apart from Dora. Ziggy was not impressed with Rex at all but at least Zigs can escape to his own apartments. Judy? She ignores the whole lot of them.

Judy

Jess Dora

Ziggy

First Thing

 

How do I start my day? I get up early, switch on the electric blanket, go downstairs, let the dogs out and make a cup of coffee. If there’s nothing much going on in the world, if nobody’s whining about not getting elected, and nobody’s getting impeached I return to my cosy bed with the coffee and read one or three of my books. I am usually accompanied by a dog and a cat who hate each other. They position themselves at opposite ends of the bed. Sometimes they glare at each other, other times they ignore each other.

It's a wonderful start to the day.

We Are All Old Now

I thought that when old Roy died that life with just two dogs, two cats and two pigs might be easier. I thought wrong. Roy might have been the oldest codger in town but he wasn’t the only one.

For Holly de Cat is thirteen and Big Fat Fred just a year younger. Judy will be ten in the summer and Jess eight in October. Rusty and Lily are ten this year too. They must be two of the oldest pigs in County Antrim. Bert and I both have our bus passes. Nellybert’s is no longer a Party House. We’re a Retirement Home!

Reason for this moan? I am rudely awakened every morning by the dogs needing to go pee. This morning it was six o’clock when Jess was headbutting my bedroom door. Then, when Big Fat Fred sees me he makes it clear he is ready for breakfast so I give him a little something in his bowl and return to bed for horrible anxiety dreams.* When Fred has finished eating he stands at the bottom of the stairs and gowls to be let into my private, secret sitting room. I prefer to keep that room closed as a dog (probably Judy) has a liking for peeing on my antique carpet.

Although Judy has been having fewer ‘accidents’ since the vet put her on the amazing tightening up the urethra drug. It’s also noticeable that her coat is glossier and she seems to have more energy. I’m seriously considering taking this medication myself as I too would benefit from a glossy mane, extra energy and a better functioning urethra.

The oldest pigs in the parish

*This morning's anxiety dream was all about Zoe having coronavirus and Bert and his friends using my best vintage china for ashtrays.

Dog Talk

Judy, poor pooch, is unwell and is in doggy hospital. What seemed like an ordinary upset stomach (lots of boking and loss of appetite) has turned out to be an infection. Bert knew last night that she was sick when one of her favourite visitors turned up and instead of the usual ecstatic welcome, loud barking, full-body wiggling and jumping up, all she could manage was a few woofs, and a few tail wags before staggering back to her favourite armchair.

Jess is distraught. What didn't help is that we are looking after Zoe's dog Maya for a few nights and I think Jess believes we have swapped dogs. So I took her with me on a trip to Ikea to cheer her up. Which was OK until I decided to take her for a bit of a walk to cheer her up even more. The first 15 minutes were fairly OK but by the time we passed Decathlon she was not in good form. I realised that the constant road traffic, the people and the noise of the planes were affecting her. She is not a city dog. We started walking back and she looked so cringey and scared that I started to think that people might think I'd stolen her and was wondering how I could convince anyone, who might challenge me on that point, that I wasn't a dog-rustler.

One thing is for sure. She won't be going walkies in a built-up environment, next to an airport ever again.

Where Jess belongs.

Blue Sky Day

A shortie with photies. Nellybert took the dogs for a walk on the beach at the gloriously, beautiful Whitepark Bay and Bert used his backpack, a backpack so sadly missed on our trip to Rathlin Island. In it, he carried a bottle of water, two mandarin oranges and binoculars. And, whilst on the beach, a pair of Converse and some stripey socks.  

Here Bert throws a stick for the dogs. I told him that his stick-throwing is of a standard that is positively Olympian. For husbands with dodgy knees need to have their spirits raised.

No sign of sore knees here although none of this pack are getting any younger.

A Foggy Night

I set the alarm last night for 5:15am as I wanted to see the Super Blood Wolf Moon. The name alone was fantastic. I said to Bert,

No doubt, as per usual, there will be clouds and we'll see nothing. If it's good do you want me to wake you?

He said,

Only if it's amazing.

I went to bed, read from three books,

A Monster Calls, Patrick Ness
Who We are, Dee Roslyn
Human Traces, Sebastian Faulks...

Then turned out the light and tried to sleep which wasn't easy as my feet were FREEZING.

Jess wakened me sometime around three or four, whining, wanting to go downstairs. I looked out the window and saw it was misty outside. It turned out the dog was thirsty and as she lapped from her bowl I went outside. Despite the fog, the moon was visible and was mostly eclipsed.  Perhaps two-thirds. I returned to bed and slept almost immediately. Two hours later the alarm went off. Totality! I hurried downstairs. The fog had thickened and there was no moon to be seen. Back to bed with a cup of coffee and some more A Monster Calls then back to sleep until nine o'clock.

When I eventually got up I wondered if seeing the partially eclipsed moon had just been a lovely dream.

Then The Rain Came

A picture from ten weeks ago. No lawn, and flower beds almost empty. The yellow tulips in the tubs were about the only thing in bloom. Bert is wearing his crocs and looks happy. Marty has on his favourite redneck teeshirt. Jess has a ball in her mouth. This photograph was quite spontaneous.

A picture from three days ago. We have a lawn and the borders are bursting. Marty has on his favourite redneck teeshirt, Bert is wearing his crocs and Jess has a stick in her mouth. This photograph was carefully staged and is the best of a poor bunch. Bert hates being told what to do which is why he looks unhappy.

The sidalcea just behind Bert is badly placed. Two plants, too close together and far too boisterous for the front of the border. They are beautiful healthy plants though and I intend to shift them at the end of the season. I might even gift one to another gardener. Another thing I should do is stake them early on. In the heatwave, they stood tall and proud with no support necessary - until the rain came.

We had three extra dogs last night and I was awakened by barking at around four in the morning. Strange noise coming from outside which must have disturbed them. Steady, medium-heavy welcome rain, much needed. I let the dogs out. It looked strange to see the yard all glistening wet after such a long dry spell. It was still raining this morning. The garden will be enjoying this, I thought and went out to look. The sidalcea had completely collapsed.

Ah well - no mind. I shall cut it back and maybe it will flower again. The Chelsea Crop.

There is something else I'm going to try to see if it enhances my life and that is - sharing a section of my To Do list.

To Do, Monday 16th July.

Send my only grandson a birthday card. He is going to be three on Wednesday.

Cut back the sidalcea,

Sow some beetroot.

Plant vegetable plugs.

Mop the floors. Seven dogs and rainy days are hard on them.

Update my blog.

Getting Things Done

• Booked flights to catch up with Katy and her growing family. Yea! Seeing James again and meeting Emily for the first time. I don't really mind (much) missing the first couple of weeks. It gives everyone a chance to settle down before I come crashing in.
• Cleaned the Hillbilly Hen House. Hosed it down, made it very nice. I'll do the Orchard Hen House on Friday. Two in one day is way too much.
• Got into the polytunnel for the first time this year and started getting sorted. It will be Spring before we know it!
• Sorted out some financial matters, the pension (at last!) and something else as well. I will not be scrimping when I go to Norfolk. Emily needs dresses! James needs trains! Everyone else needs wine!
• Got my tooth fixed - the pretendy one that Jess nibbled. Bad Dog!

Now with all that taken care of I can relax and tomorrow I'll enjoy the company of my two older grandchildren. Can't wait.

Dog Years

Today I looked at a file on my external hard drive entitled Blog Drafts and found this snippet from March 2013. I’m pretty sure it never made it to Nelly’s Garden. I even carried out a keyword search, ‘procreate’ and ‘Cesar’ which are words I rarely use and they are not there. So off we go, recycling time!

March 2013

Cesar Millan tells us that the method of calculating dog years by counting each year of their lives as seven years of ours is flawed. I've always thought so myself. After all, a dog at a year old can procreate and usually, at seven, humans don't. A more accurate way of counting dog years is to take their actual age and subtract 2 from it, multiply by 4 and add 21. It works! Using this method, puppy Jess born in October is 14 and a half and Judy, born in the summer of 2010 is 23 and a half. That fits. Jess is a crazy, hyped up teenager and Judy is a dignified 20 something with lots of energy and a busy social life. Jess eats like a savage and burns it all off and Judy watches her figure.

March 2017

How have they aged in the past four years?

Judy will be seven this summer. She is not quite as agile as she was and is beginning to go grey around the muzzle and flanks. Jess will be five in October. She appears to be in the prime of life. Let’s do the math.

Judy – 6 and three-quarters (approx.)

(6.75 - 2) x 4 = 19. Add 21 and that makes Judy 40.

She isn’t quite as nimble as she used to be but likes to keep herself in shape with swimming and ball fun.

Jess - almost 4 and a half.

(4.5 – 2) x 4 = 10. Adding 21 has Jess at 31 human years. Still a girl at heart.

Four years ago Roy was still living with Paddy Bell. He was far too fat (Roy, not Paddy) and getting very little exercise. For the past couple of years, he has been with us and is far more active even though he never leaves the farm. We think he will soon be eleven years old as he was around two when Nessie (his original owner) died and she’s gone 9 years now.

So if Roy is 10 and a half…

(10.5 – 2) x 4 = 34 add 21 makes Roy 55. Seems right enough for he wasn’t that far gone and a better diet and more activity took years off him.

When he was fat

I wonder what age I am in dog years? Subtract 21 from my actual age and I am 42 and a half (I wish) then divide by 4. That brings me to 11 and a half so, subtract 2 and I am coming ten in dog years. Shit! I’m not even as fit as Roy! I couldn’t run after those pigs the way he does. But then, Roy neither drinks wine nor eats chocolate. Time I caught myself on.

Every Picture: Jess

Yippee! Last day and last post of the month and tonight's main topic will be Jess the Sprollie who everyone (except for Rod) thinks weird. I expect it is because she was the one that no one wanted. There were six pups in that litter, one male and five bitches and they were all going to be drowned. Until our friend heard of it. He said he'd take two and when he told us we said we'd take the remaining four and find homes for them. Swisser said she'd take the boy.

Handsome Rex, who lives between Bradford and Portballintrae

Howard chose Tegan and Pip who had to share their living quarters in rural Magherafelt with a couple of cats.

Of the four that came to us the Banjos chose Dora. She lives in Antrim and only rarely sleeps in Marty's banjo case.

Some people we didn't know came to look at the remaining two and they didn't choose Jess. They chose Darcy.

Darcy is the one at the front. Dora is in the middle and Jess is at the back. She was very lonely when Darcy and Dora left.

But she still had Judy. 

And Bonnie for a little while.

Now Hannah has informed me that I must pay more attention to Jess before she becomes irredeemably weird as there is no one special in her life. Well, she has Rod, who loves her dearly. He loves all the dogs but Jess is his favourite and she knows it. She used to see him very often but these days, not so much. For Rod is a musician and spends a lot of time on the road.

Rod and Tracey on stage. When Rod has to sing sad songs he thinks of Jess and how much he misses her. 

Jess and Tracey

When Tracey has to sing 'Jolene' she thinks of Jess.

Every Picture: Cats and Dogs

Muff and Danny

If cats are introduced to dogs as kittens the cat will adapt well to their canine companion. As kittens, they will treat the dog as a surrogate mother (no matter the dog's gender) and as adult cats,  they consider the dog a contemptible creature only fit for using and teasing. Remember the adage, dogs have owners, cats have staff.

Judy and Fred

Fred is an Alpha Cat, Judy an Alpha Bitch. Fred always wins as Judy cannot climb trees.

Fred and Bonnie

When Fred was a kitten he was happy to permit Bonnie to share his food. No matter that the food was actually Bonnie's to start with. Fred was generous.

Bonnie and Holly

Bonnie's first kitten was Holly. She was very tolerant and put up with the little cat's relentless bullying.

Paddy, Rosie and Harry

Cats love to lie on people's beds. So do dogs. Paddy is resigned to Harry's presence. Rosie is thoughtful. Perhaps she should bite Harry? Harry is resolute. He's not going anywhere.

Holly and Jess

There are very few photographs of Jess in a cat's company. She's never known a kitten and the adult cats she shares her home with are not to her liking. Holly is hard to see in this picture as she has been treed. Jess needs to get herself a kitten.

Remembering Muff, Danny, Bonnie, Paddy, Rosie and Harry.