Anne's space

I spent part of my morning this morning walking with a bishop (Bath and Wells) and half a dozen llamas.  As you do!  Here are some pictures. (Look above)  It was a beautiful, if windy, morning and the llamas were gentle and dignified.  The bishop was great too!  I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

So, the rabbit is not yet beaten, but my vegetables are so far protected.  I have harvested a grand total of 4 strawberries from the strawberry patch and am beginning to eat my way through the marjoram (although I find there is a definite limit to how much green stuff one can eat!)

The weather has been gorgeous and I find myself slipping into a mediterranean lifestyle - up early, getting a lot done before the heat of the day.  Then a sort of siesta - a cool quiet spot anyway (if I can manage it) followed by the evening meal and a period of cool in which I water the newly-planted vegetables and generally keep an eye on the garden.  I am making a list of garden chores - but they can wait until it's a bit cooler and I am a little less busy!

It is a joy to hear the chatter of the swallows in the porch - busy feeding their young from early morning.  Then there's the pond - with its army of frogs that set out to clear the garden of pests each day and can be found lurking near the water butt or slipping back to the pond for a quick dip.  The blackbirds are cannily nurturing a brood in the bay tree, coming and going on silent wings and keeping their glorious song for a different part of the garden, thus confusing the buzzard and sparrowhawk and magpies.

I'm off out now to enjoy it.  See you!

It's That Rabbit or me!  He's eaten my marigolds and my lilies and he is munching his way through my neighbour's veg patch.  I managed to scare him with a well-aimed pebble - scudding earth behind him - but he still returns - bringing friends!  Who can remember Joyce Grenfell's "I posted that wabbit"?  Ah, if only!

More anon.

I've stolen this from my sons - have a go yourselves - it's fun!

 

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Probably Jane Austen - but I did go through a phase of buying RF Delderfield - because you got more pages for your money! (I was a student at the time) Oh, and Lyndsey Davies' Falco books and Ellis Peters' Cadfael (see a trend?)

 

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Apart from the Bible (but then this is a Rectory!) I guess it's Pride and Prejudice - but I can't remember why!

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
Yes

 

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Mmm.  Not sure I am in love with any fictional character - although any one of Mr Rochester, Captain Wentworth, Maxim de Winter, Mr Darcy (of course), Brother Cadfael, Didius Falco (Marcus) and Commander Dalgliesh would be interesting company - not to mention Jean Benoit Aubery!

 

5) What book have you read the most times in your life (excluding picture books read to children; i.e., Goodnight Moon does not count)?
I've never heard of Goodnight Moon.

Daphne du Maurier's 'Frenchman's Creek.

6) What was your favourite book when you were ten years old?

Anne of Green Gables (I think - or the Famous Five or William Brown or Biggles!)

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
Kate Atkinson's 'Human Croquet' - not that it's a bad book - it just confused me! Elizabeth Taylor's 'Angel' is in there too - for such a chilling heroine.

 

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
No competition: 'The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society' - a brilliant 'summer read'

 

War and Peace of course!

No idea

C.S. Lewis' 'the Last Battle' - except it would be impossible.  How about 'Lucy Hampton'?

No idea

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I once dreamt I was in 'Kidnapped' - but I guess it was one of those 'being hunted' dreams.

 

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?
I once read  Mills and Boon - for a dare!

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?
Caesar's Gallic Wars Book 2

 

I avoid the obscure ones - but 'Measure for Measure' in a very weird production years ago.

17) Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
French every time - the Russian writers tend to be long and bleak - like their winters.

 

18) Roth or Updike?
I've not read a word of either.

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?

Who?

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Depends on the company.

 

21) Austen or Eliot?
Austen for pleasure - Eliot for instruction.

 

Modern theatre.

Horrid question: P&P or Persuasion for delight.

24) Play?
'The Importance of Being Ernest' for fun.

 

25) Poem?
23rd Psalm

26) Essay?
Not my milieu

 

27) Short story?
'Mrs Dean's Dilemma' or anything by Maupassant, or Saki (except the one about the wolves!)

 

The Gardening Year

29) Who is your favourite writer?
Jane of course - but there are many others I like very much too.  Really.

30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
JK Rowling

 

31) What is your desert island book?
The complete Anne of Green Gables series - for pure nostalgia

 

Spring has definitely taken over the Rectory garden.  No sooner had we finished ooing and ahing about the wonderful daffodils (and they were particularly good this year) than we were spotting the bluebellls.  And now the nettles and 'goose grass' have moved in!  Now, them nettles is powerful strong.  They can sting through your clothing, and I have yet to find the gardening gloves that are thin enough to feel through and thick enough to defy spring nettles.

 

Then, at the weekend, inspiration came upon me and I dug out my 'extra thick, tough, black rubber gloves (suitable for those tough jobs)' that had been lurking in the bottom of the gardening cupboard since the last time the drain got blocked. (They didn't smell too badly.)  Armed with these and a large green plastic bag pinned into a currugated plastic box with a motley assortment of clips, I ventured out into the garden and began to work my way round systematically, pulling out nettles.

I have to say, the gloves were brilliant - no stings through them at all.  Mind you, I had to be carefull not to grab a handful of bramble - straight through the rubber!  Oh, and the task had to be conducted in a measured and restrained manner - lest a nettle do a back swipe and get one in the face.  Not pleasant.  Apart from the odd sting, through the trouser leg, by an unnoticed nettle at ankle height, I did quite well. 

An hour and a half (and 2 bagsful later) I was at the entrance to the orchard (you may recall this is the area with 2 apple trees in it - actually, I read somewhere that any space with a minimum of 5 fruit trees in it can be called an orchard. If you add the 2 apple trees on the lawn + the crabapple that leans at a dangerous and drunken angle in full view of the sitting room window - oh, and the cherry tree behind the garage which OV nearly set fire to with the last bonfire - then we have 6 altogether - a veritable orchard.)  But I digress.

As I was saying, I reached the orchard just ahead of teatime.  So there bag number 2 awaits further action.  Looking at the sea of nettles there, I retreated to the kitchen and cooked sausages.  The only answer to the need really. Today, when I get back from work, if it isn't raining and if I can face it.... I'll tackle the orchard.  The sea of nettles (why are they a 'sea'?) near the compost bins and surrounding the rhubarb, will have to wait.  I took a swipe at them last week with my purpose-made nettle slasher - a fiercesome tool that is shaped like an ancient weapon of war and is absolutely excellent at laying waste to large areas of nettles - and getting rid of any pent-up emotions in the process.  The nettles do tend to bounce back, but then you can have the fun all over again!  It's not the tool for the herbaceous border though!

 

I had plenty to be 'nettled' about yesterday - all my tension about whether or not my short story would get anywhere in the competition (it didn't) had to go somewhere.  Why does one put oneself into such situations?  It's not as if I need to know I'm ok - needy I am not... am I?  Oh, how lovely it would be to write, publish and move on to the next piece... I wonder how many budding (or in my case, somewhat overgrown) writers have felt the same?   And rejection, in any shape or form, is a hard pill to swallow. Hey ho. 'Their loss' as a kind and entirely biased friend said.

 

Back in the garden - we had a 'flying visit' from number 2 son (all of 9 minutes younger than his brother - yes, 9. Not the 7 on the birth certificate.  I was there - I should know!) at the weekend.  He was press-ganged into helping to mend the canary coloured caravan.  Botch-a-job inc. (aka ov, son + self) worked for a couple of hours on the task, managing to spread the sticky black tar around librally - annointing said son's 'best' jeans in the process.  (We are good!) 

The caravan now sits shyly in the corner of the garden, hoping (if inanimate objects can hope) that it doesn't let us down in the next heavy shower.

Don't you just wish you were here?

Mind the nettles!