Autumn

This is the first autumn in a few years that feels right. More recently, autumn seems to have consisted of several weeks of rain and wind, followed by the discovery that all the leaves have disappeared overnight. This year, though, I'm beginning to feel hopeful. Perhaps we're going to get a decent autumn after all.

• The trees. The first signs of colour are appearing in the hedgerows and woodland. I'm keeping an eye on our beeches and other deciduous trees, hoping that the leaves will have time to turn properly before the next storm comes.Still disappointed that I still haven't found a rhus typhina like the one I had in our other house. The local garden centre did have some but they were about 8ft tall. I want a bushy one.

• The garden. There is still plenty going on despite the shortening days. The Michaelmas daisies are putting on a splendid show, and there are flowers that seem determined to carry on until the first hard frost. At this time of year I am inclined to leave things alone rather than rush about tidying everything up.

• The weather. There's been rain but fine, dry days too. Enough dry weather to get out and enjoy it. Of course, living in County Antrim, one learns not to make too many plans on the strength of a promising forecast.

• The wildlife. The birds are coming back but not as many as other years. The sparrowhawks were hard on them and we never did see the collared doves again. Tree sparrows are scarce too. My friend who works for the RSPB tells me that 2026 has not been a good year for tree sparrows. She has also advised us to rethink bird feeders.

• The simple joys of the season. Autumn light. Coming indoors after a walk, lighting the fire, making soups and stews. Some good shows back on the telly.

And so I am keeping my fingers crossed for a few more weeks of Autumn weather. I don't expect every day to be glorious, and I certainly don't expect the leaves to stay on the trees indefinitely. But a little sunshine, some decent autumn colour and a chance to enjoy it before the winter sets in would be  welcome indeed.

Perhaps I'm asking too much. We'll see.

Late Autumn

There is so much I love about this deliciously uneasy season.  

The last of the summer fruit has withered on hedges and trees and the animals that perished in the woods last winter and early spring have rotted away leaving skeletal remains mossy clean. 

It is the season of fungi, mushrooms and toadstools reminiscent of those scary fairie folk in their underground dwellings.

Late autumn is decay yet with all the promise of fresh new growth to come.

It's time to rest.

The Scary Woods

If Nellybert were very brave (we're not) we'd go for a late-night wander in the woods this Halloween. We won't.

The top picture is Hannah's bone collection which she displays on two big stones in the middle of the wood. I took Ganching to see it and she said it was rather Blair Witch Project. That was in the summer months - how spooky would it be at the end of Autumn?

The bottom picture is the most recent addition to the bone collection, part of the skull of the buzzard found dead at the edge of the wood last April. All's left now are the bones and a few feathers.

Horse Chestnut Tree

Our horse chestnut tree right now.

The horse chestnut's gorgeous spring blossom. 

Conkers. The seeds of the horse chestnut tree.

We had visitors on Tuesday, Willy John and Annie, Bert's third cousins. While they were here Annie told us this lovely tale. Bert's Aunt Lizzie, who died at the beginning of the year, was a regular visitor to this house when Pearlie was around. Lizzie always had a great love for the natural world and she would always take an interest in what was going on around here. She gathered conkers from the tree and gave a bagful to Annie who, like Lizzie, had a passion for growing things. Annie sowed the conkers and as they grew, she planted the saplings into ever bigger containers. Eventually, they were big enough to plant out and now they have a row of horse chestnuts growing down the side of their lane. It was so pleasing to hear that. 

Bert intends to plant about a hundred or so horse chestnuts this year. Hopefully, ours will grow just as well as Annie's did.

Autumn Colour

 

I'm bringing this fig (a present from Zoe) into the tunnel for the winter. I considered planting it out but have decided to give it a bigger pot to live in. 

These anemones came from the Wees. They had been a feature in his mother's garden but had to go when they built a shed. I moved then this spring and they haven't really come back from that. Next year will be better.

The begonias were a gift too. We were given so many this year that we had to share them out. A good few went to Belfast to console hard-pressed social workers. In return, I was given wine (shop-bought) and homemade chilli jelly and some other things. I like that way of doing business.  

Bert got these Michaelmas Daisies as a freebie last year when he was delivering climbers to a garden shop. They were rather bedraggled and had mould but they grew out of it. They add a nice splash of colour to the autumn garden. That's a beehive at the back of the shot. The bees are still very busy gathering pollen and evicting drones. No honey though. The beggars scoffed it all. I don't mind. They need it more than we do.

Borage is one of nature's freebies. It's self-sown and pops up all over the place.  I love its little hairy buds and it's a big favourite with pollinators.

The streptocarpus was a present from Bert's Aunt Lizzie. She told me it was difficult to keep going but, so far, I've found it easy. It spent the summer months outside. I divided it, repotted and brought it indoors. I'm very pleased with it and it is nice to have something to remember her by. The only thing is, I really hope it's not one of those plants that produces an amazing flush of flowers before it dies. We'll see.  

Autumn

My oldest friend just turned seventy. My youngest brother is not a kick in the arse of sixty, my oldest granddaughter has started grammar school, I'm down to three aunts, only one uncle and my toyboy husband is thinking of investing in new knees. Even my pets, pigs, dogs, cats and chickens are all ancient. Seems like Nelly is in the Autumn of her years.

But who cares! I've always loved Autumn, apart from it not lasting nearly long enough. Oops!

When I first met the Wee Manny, in Dublin, some time in the mid-seventies. 

Happy 70th birthday, Robin. I never thought you'd see it.

And an account of a long-ago adventure in which the comments have the makings of a soap opera. Well worth a read. 

Can't Do Right For Doing Wrong

I don't have far to travel to enjoy the autumn colour as these trees, mostly beech, are at the bottom of our lane.

Last week was a free week. The girls were on a mid-term break vacation to the Dingle peninsula so no Monday supper and no Thursday baby-sitting. I have a new regular Tuesday appointment and that was postponed due to vacation time for the other party, so free all week, lots of time to myself.

I spent it weeding, planting and mulching in the polytunnel for my section had got really out of hand. There were dandelions, creeping buttercup and nettles starting to appear. There were far too many strawberry runners and a nest of self-seeded sweet william that was beginning to take over. Over a period of five days I worked on it, lots of hoeing, digging out and raking. Garlic cloves were sown, new strawberries and broad beans planted and fresh compost added to the soil. It was so neat, so brown, so weed-free and I was really pleased with all my efforts, until - one night, about halfway through this clearance, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep for feeling guilty about where all the beetles and bugs, spiders and frogs were going to live. The tunnel wrens appeared to have lost interest in my plot and the resident robin had moved out. It was all far too tidy.

But it won't last. The weeds will return, so will the bugs and beetles and in no time robins and wrens will be back. And, if those broad beans ever come to anything, Rusty and Lily will be crashing about in there too.

Autumn Days

Next year's plot for growing garlic was chosen a few months ago and has been languishing under cardboard ever since. The cardboard came off yesterday and the soil underneath looked packed and dusty. It needed something. There was a little mound of leaf mould composting under the beech trees which would be ideal for conditioning the soil and pleasing the worms.

That's what a builder's bag full to the brim of autumn leaves turns into. Half a barrow load of crumbly soil conditioner.

It deserved a close-up. Ignore the intact beech leaves, they are this year's drop. The good stuff is the chocolate coloured mulch in my hand.

And that is the 2019 garlic bed, hoed, mulched and watered.

And this is the garlic from which I'll choose my cloves for planting. The biggest ones are best for decent sized plants. Guess what? I don't know what variety they are -  Les will tell me.

Speaking of Les, he kindly gave me the run of his blackberry canes as he's too busy making chilli jam to have time for blackberry jam. I've frozen a big bowl of them for future desserts. They are far too delicious for wine-making. Zoe gave me an enormous beetroot for the pigs and I may well get a gallon of wine out of that and the pigs will still get to eat it after it's been boiled.

I love Autumn, especially when the weather is fine and mild.

A Fine Autumn Day

Such a lovely day today. Blue skies, temperatures in the low twenties, dry, a brisk, warm breeze. Washing out early, line-dried with no need for airing.

I made an apple sponge with peasgood nonsuch apples and it was lovely. I spent a few hours raking leaves which is a task that I find very pleasurable.

Bert and Hannah took Judy and Ziggy to the vet to have anal glands dealt with so happy dogs too.

Verbena bonariensis still in full bloom.

Just the beginning. Mostly beech. Lots of lovely leafmould in two years time.

Autumn Days

Chrysalis on tomato support frame in the polytunnel

Bert went a-wooding on Saturday to begin dealing with the big beech tree that blew down in the sheugh on the day of the strong wind. I mooched around the house doing a bit of this, a bit of that. It was a fine bright day. After a while, I went to see how he was getting along and found him loading all the fiddly branches in a big pile. And while he was doing that, he couldn't chainsaw. The truth is I worry about him when he's off a-wooding, just like Matty used to worry about Daddy. What if he injures himself, out in the fields, all alone? Lying there, bleeding out, his phone (as usual) lying on the coffee table, not able to get help. I may seem happy-go-lucky but I do get rather carried away with worst case scenarios.

Anyways, he was fine. I looked at what he was doing and thought, I could do that and let him get on with the chainsawing and, at the same time, keep an eye on him, be there if he accidentally cuts his leg off, be able to run out to the road and flag a vehicle down as my phone (as usual) is lying on the sideboard and I wonder which of my garments would be best to tear up to use as a tourniquet if the worst did happen. I'm thinking all this as I'm throwing small branches on the huge pile and keeping a look-out for any breach of health and safety procedures on Bert's part.

Of course, tourniquets are no longer recommended and stanching and applying pressure to large wounds is the thing to do nowadays, The tee shirt I'm wearing would be good for that purpose. But would Bert be able to apply the pressure himself while I ran out to the road looking for help dressed only in a flesh coloured bra and Gap jeans? That would certainly stop the traffic.

Happily, none of this came to pass and we spent a couple of hours a-wooding and I have to say, it was one of the nicest Saturdays I've ever spent and I could hardly wait to get back to it but it would have to wait until Monday as unnecessary outside work on a Sunday is still frowned upon in this God-fearing townland.  

Sunday was a good day too. Bert visited his Aunt Lizzie and I worked in the polytunnel and made pastry and a pie filling for the next day's dinner. And the reason for that was so I would have more time to go a-wooding on Monday.

Bert was a bit of a slow starter on Monday morning but eventually, he gathered up tractor, trailer, loppers and chainsaw and set off. I had a steamed chocolate pudding on the hob and it needed more time so he set off before me. Twenty minutes later I joined him to find that he'd already got several decent-sized trimmed branches on the trailer. I chided him for working too hard then set to gathering the trimmings to load onto the enormous pile. Bert stops work, starts staring at the fallen tree. He is pondering his next cut. I stop working too and ponder alongside him. I haven't a clue what he should do. All I know is that I will not approve him perching anywhere precarious whilst operating the chainsaw. He decides to approach the job from the other side of the sheugh (ditch). It is a very deep sheugh and it involves him climbing down then clambering up the other side and over the thickest part of the tree trunk. In fact, it is such an awkward manoeuvre that we decide I should climb into the sheugh and reach the chainsaw up to him. It was at this point that I realised that one of my wellington boots was letting in water.

Safely on the other side of the ditch, Bert starts to chainsaw while I watch from a distance. There is an expectation that the tree will drop closer to the ground so it is best to stay back. It takes a while. The tree moves a bit but not far enough. He can't see what is holding it up. If it was winter and the foliage gone it would be possible to work it out but not with the tree in full leaf. I keep watching to make sure he stays safe. He leans over a small branch to steady himself as he starts to cut into a thicker branch under it. 

Be careful,

I say as I've said so many times already. Then he stops, he goes pale, the chainsaw stops. I can see he has hurt himself. He's popped a rib. Game over, no more wooding for us. And now the bloody tree is a health and safety risk for we still don't know what's propping it up. It will have to be Clint and the digger now. How he will gloat at having to finish the job for us.

I advised Bert to rest while I went to Killyless Stores to buy new wellies. When I got back he said he was feeling much better and thought he might finish trimming back the rhododendron bushes beside the greenhouse. I pulled on my new boots (so comfy) and went out to help and was just in time to see him take two-thirds of a lilac bush down. 

It'll do it no harm,

Says he. We worked at the hedge for about an hour and, since the chainsaw was running anyway and Zoe had arrived, we persuaded him to saw down one of the three peach trees in the polytunnel. It was growing in a really awkward place and hadn't produced fruit in two years. My hopes are, that the one beside it will do better if it's gone. And, if not, it's going too. The third one we'll definitely keep as it produces a good crop most years and is well worth the space it takes up.

Poor Bert. He'd hurt his rib, banjaxed the fallen beech and been forced to murder his carefully espaliered peach tree and his troubles were not yet over. For Miss Evie, six going on seven, playing her favourite game of standing on his steel-capped boots while he walked her around, gave him a shove backwards which knocked him completely off balance and they both went tumbling to the ground. She, thankfully, was completely unhurt but he staved the palm of his hand and gave his frame another jolt.

The white hen refuses to lay in the hen-house. This is her latest nest. She thinks she can't be seen.

When he woke up this morning his hand was black and his rib was throbbing. I said,

Should I have a chat with Evie and say maybe she should be less rough in her play as she could hurt you?

He says,

Don't bother. She'll hardly be doing it for much longer.

Evie was delighted with this ladybird's hiding place.

Seasonal Bleatings

Autumn

The first day of November and autumn must soon be over. Then it's winter - but that is good because it brings spring closer. But first, there is Christmas to be contended with.

Hannah and I were discussing that today and it turns out we'd both like to ignore Christmas but that won't be possible. At least, not for me. I don't want to that curmudgeonly grandparent that won't do Christmas. There are things about the festive season that are unavoidable. We are working on a strategy though.

First thing - there will be no gift opening ceremony. No more will everyone have to assemble and unwrap presents together. This Christmas we'll open our parcels whenever we feel like it. I might open mine one at a time every few hours. That way I'll be sure to remember who gifted me what. Bert will probably open his on Boxing Day.

Next rule - we'll drink alcohol at breakfast time. Champers instead of coffee and Bailey's Irish Cream on the porridge.

All the year round - who can be bothered with decorating trees but the children like it. Why not keep a bush in the corner at all times? We could ring the changes, something with catkins in spring (Corylus contorta), flowerful in summer, autumn foliage then an evergreen. Festoon with fairy lights and festive season all year long. Job done.

End of Month Resolution

I hereby announce that I will post to this blog every single day in December. I've already bought and given most of my Christmas presents so I should have the time.

It's a week since I posted and I've been busy, busy, busy. Busy doing what? As my reader might ask.

I have been making soup, all from this trusty little book 200 Super Soups by Sara Lewis. So far I've made four of them so only another 196 to go. Tonight we had mulligatawny and it was delicious. It allowed me to use up some rather elderly lentils and sultanas and they were perfectly fine. At least I hope so. So, if I don't post tomorrow it will because I have died from ancient lentil poisoning.

I also made more chilli jam from the very last of the crop.

And then there were the autumn leaves. That lot came down in one big dump and I've been collecting wheelbarrow loads and making a huge leaf pile under the trees. In two years time it will have turned into wonderful leaf mould. There are still lots to gather and if it is pleasant tomorrow I'll get the girls to help me. Looking forward to it already.

And what of my inner life? Well... I'm still trying to come to terms with what appears to be the new world order and the rise of the right. At least I'm not dreaming about killing that man any more. Negative energy Nelly, negative energy.

Autumnal

You know something? I'm completely scundered right now, which is usually the case when I spend the entire day in the house, cleaning and stuff. Thing is I listen to the radio when I'm in the house and today - that was truly a miserable experience.

Today I hate,

Arlene Foster. Truly, madly deeply.

The USA elections. Donald Trump in particular. People who support Trump.

Sorry about this one for some of you are great folk - people who identify as christian. You are NOT being persecuted, you are just being challenged. Yours is not the only way to be.

This fucking province. Petitions of concern. Politicians.

Tomorrow the house can go fuck itself. I'm going for a walk then sorting the garden. I may collect leaves and I may just stop and appreciate this beautiful autumn.

First November

At last! A proper Autumn day - dry, crisp, mellow. I picked a pound of Autumn raspberries today - straight into the freezer with them. I must learn to make Pavlova. Cousin Margaret is an expert - I shall insist she gives me a tutorial.

It's been an anxious day waiting for Zoe to have the baby. Today was her due date but, so far, no action. Also anxious because Bonnie has started limping badly. Off to the vet with her this evening where we saw the same vet we saw last time we were there which was a mere month ago. Or maybe it was her identical twin sister. Last time sore on foreleg probably cancer, here's some ointment, she's too old to operate on. This time same sore on foreleg, giving her a lot of gyp, she's a fresh looking old girl, we'll operate. Tomorrow. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing?

I considered taking her to my cousin the vet but I expect he'd operate anyway. Hope I'm doing the right thing.

What I've Been Missing

So I says to Bert,

Y'know how long it's been since I walked the path to Gillies?

No. How long's it been?

I've not been on that walk since the 9th January, 2010!

Why'd you leave it so long?

Last time I was on that walk some boy yapped at me for not having Bonnie on a lead.

What did you say to him?

I said nothing to him.

Coofy!

No. I never said a word. I just punched him to the ground, kicked him in the balls and rolled him into the river.

Was he an oul' fellow?

Nah. He was some young buck. But that's why I wanted to avoid that particular walk for a while.