Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 September 2018

Spectacular September

Back from France on September 1st.
Back at school on September 3rd.
Back to some feeling of 'normality' on September 22nd.

Bit of a helter-skelter month, really. The weather has been wonderfully warm - 24 degrees or thereabouts on several days - and the sunsets have been amazing. We managed to catch a few...


Enjoyed a meal overlooking this lovely bay (L'Eree, on the west coast) for our anniversary. 34 years. Who'd have thought?

There was, of course, BLACKBERRY PICKING. A particularly good crop this year. Love it. Standing in the sunshine, enjoying the quiet, with only the birds and, perhaps, a reluctant and disappointed small dog, patiently waiting to continue with the walk. It did also offer the opportunity to meet one of our neighbours, coming down to the adjacent field to care for her horses.

September has also been a great month for reconnecting with friends and neighbours: meals and other social get togethers, catching up with lots of laughter. Add in Skype conversations with Tanzania and New Zealand...
A special cupcake for a special baby: yes, it's a GIRL!
 It was also great to be reunited with our resident orchids...



Our neighbours drove off to Crete (!) - a wonderful road trip through France, Italy and Greece - kindly leaving us with two huge tomato plants, grown from seeds from their visit to Santorini last year...
House guests. Eventually - and several holey leaves later - I realised they had brought uninvited friends with them: small green caterpillars...some not so small, either.


Santorini tomatoes

Waiting to become chutney.
Finally: I slowly became acquainted with my new class....and Margaret and David came to stay. Fond memories, good friends.

Sunday, 1 July 2018

Jaunty June

This has to be the best month of the year. Spring has exploded into summer, the air is warm and the sun is shining - most days, it seems. Flowers are EVERYWHERE.
Drooping over the patio from our neighbours' garden.

Tree hydrangea




















I am amazed at how quickly June is flying  by. The cycle commute to school has changed, as the hedges and banks which, at the beginning of the month were towering over my head, have been cut. It does make cycling down the lanes safer... I can now see vehicles coming, although the tractors which tear round the island are somewhat daunting....

One day, a magpie hopped insouciantly along the bank by my shoulder, so close I could see its wing feathers; a cock pheasant strutted his stuff at the edge of a field, just a couple of metres away from me, quite unconcerned; then, as I took one of my favourite back lanes near home, I saw a buzzard dive down and land at the edge of the field. He hadn't seen me, so I quietly drifted to a halt and climbed the ban to peep over. He flew up, almost in my face, yellow legs dangling as he slowly flapped white-patched wings towards the nearest tree before continuing on across the meadow. mobbed by two crows who pursued him with tremendous determination until he had safely left the area.

Goldfinches swoop busily in and out of the trees and bushes which blackbirds fly low-level across the garden, assiduously digging for worms in the early morning. Thrushes shriek from our neighbour's tree, almost deafening at times. A baby chaffinch rested thankfully on the bird table, its parent perched anxiously above it while it caught its breath.

There was other wildlife, too. Sawfly larvae emerged and started chomping away at the Solomon's Seal, effectively stripping the leaves. Nature's pruning. I started off the season by trying to remove them, before giving up: perhaps they would be food for the birds... but not before the leaves had been stripped to bare stems...


Inbetween bird watching, I teach; read the incredible World War 2 adventure stories the children have written; help them put together a 'museum' of all the incredible work they have done this term; help a group of girls created miniature Guernsey landmarks for our wheelbarrow 'garden'. Our entry this year for the annual schools' gardening wheelbarrow competition is a living 'map' of our island, surrounded by a beaches of bright yellow tagetes and a sea of trailing blue and white lobelia....  Our school 'garden' has now been converted into an outdoor learning area, so no more gardening club for me...

And lastly: Activities' Week. This year, I was fortunate to be with Year 4, 'supervising' them at the beach while they attended Surf School. Apart from a couple of misty, windy mornings, we sat in blazing sunshine, rejoicing over every successful attempt at standing up on the board. It was a blessing, too, to get to know colleagues who normally pass by briefly in the staffroom, as we don't usually work together. My journey down on the bike afforded me wonderful views of the coastline as I navigated the lanes. 30 minutes freewheeling downhill....40 - 50 minutes back up again....
View from the lookout at Le Grantez: site of a former windmill, a Napoleonic era fort and a German defence fortification.



A jack rabbit rests in the shade...




Vazon bay. #tropical

Then, as if I didn't have enough to do, we started making kombucha: fermented tea. Boy, reading the instructions and researching on the internet took hours of my life, but eventually I combined tea, sugar and hot water, letting it cool before gently inserting the mushroom-like 'SCOBY'. Waited a few days, then decanted the sweet fizzy drink. It was actually quite tasty... Now, can we keep it alive and going over the next couple of hot summer months...?
The SCOBY from above. Symbiotic Culture Of Bacteria and Yeast. So there we are.


Sunday, 16 July 2017

Jumping June

Well, not really jumping. Just lots happening.

June

June jumped away from me. It is now half way through July. Oh dear.

June began with a wonderful visit from Jonny and Adele and Matthew and family. Cooking for eight! Lovely to have a houseful.

We slept in the motorhome – it seemed the easiest option before putting up our tent in the garden. #nexttime 

Jonny hung out with Tom in a kayak, gaining an impressive sunburn. Beautiful Adele plugged diligently away at reports. My nephews, Henry and Gabriel, were good fun and delightfully well—behaved.

I went back to school after a long weekend.  #nohalfterm #butwedobreakuptwoweeksearly 

School, of course, is fairly manic in June: writing and finishing reports; INSET; creating with the children, an inaugural ‘World War II museum’ showcasing all the children’s work this term; and a clash with my senior manager. She has been VERY difficult, culminating in a week off for me with work-related stress and abnormally high blood pressure. All very ‘interesting’, but the blood pressure is now under control and I’m now on holiday, anyway.

There were some bright spots, one of which was possibly THE best afternoon of my teaching career. A ‘transition afternoon’ had been arranged for the Year 6 boys to meet their prospective Year 7 tutors: out on a fifty foot pilot cutter.

Wow. Down at St Peter Port harbour, three vintage pilot cutters motored up to the quay and we embarked. SUCH fun. It was a gloriously sunny afternoon as we sat on deck, a small jib gently moving us along. Could have done with a little more wind, quite honestly, but it was a new experience for most of the children so at least we avoided sea sickness. It was just beautiful sailing peaceably to and fro beneath the cliffs outside the harbour.

I also managed to host an almost monthly breakfast. I’m never too sure who, out of the thirty women on my email list, will manage to attend but it is always the right number of people and a wonderful, encouraging atmosphere.  I always feel as if I’ve been on a mini-retreat after just an hour and a half of chatter and laughter over a relaxed meal.

Other news in June: revelling in the flowers emerging in the garden: the hydrangeas have gone bonkers, lilies appearing from almost nowhere, a myriad of tiny wild flowers dotted among the grass on the lawn.  A blitz on hawkweed, of course, which tends to take over; and much trimming of hedges and bushes, which seem to sprout tendrils as soon as you look away from them. Not to mention the weeds... #wildflowersbyanothername.

Vegetable –wise, the potatoes have done well, the broad beans thriving, rocket providing many a meal – wilted rocket has been a particular favourite; and pumpkins and butternut squash beginning to spread across the garden.

By the back door, the herbs were thriving and lettuce had grown large enough to be picked. Sadly, I forgot to take a photo of the clematis Nellie Moser in all its glory – getting on for a hundred deep purple flowers climbing up the wall and all over the tree branches which hang over the wall. Hostas had sprung up overnight, growing so thickly that the patio is unrecognisable from its winter self.

We have been intent on clearing up in preparation for going away at the beginning of July, ready for visitors in our absence. I slowly removed ornaments, packed away precious china, acquired and organised bedlinen and towels. It took us quite some time to think through all the paperwork, writing instructions and organising someone for grass cutting and cleaning. A lot of work, but once we have done it one time, it should be easier in the future.

Phew. I thought June had gone in a blur...

And in all of that... I was privileged to be able to say goodbye to dearest Renee, privileged to be with her daughter Wendy who had come to walk her mum home...tears and laughter and loving, loving memories.  I shall miss her so much.

Sunday, 20 November 2016

No. November

November. Never anyone's favourite month, in spite of the excitement of Guy Fawkes and fireworks night.  And that's a mixed blessing, anyway: I know we should be thankful that a seventeenth century act of terrorism was foiled and the monarchy and Parliament were saved, but it has never sat comfortably with me that we celebrate a cruel death.

But bonfires and fireworks are long gone. Instead, we have Storm Angus, who howled through the English Channel last night, breaking branches off trees, tossing trampolines, stamping on surfboards and boats and generally keeping everyone awake.

Not us, though. In spite of hearing all kinds of tales about the fierce winds which affect this part of the island, we slept through the Force 12 gusts which tore through at 2.20am this morning. The only damage was to the spinach: already hail-battered, it is now looking rather wind-shredded. Green debris and the odd slate littered the roads this morning.

We are thankful. Thankful for a solid, warm house, when many sleep out in the cold, fleeing from terror.
Thankful for the loving friends we have, as I put together our yearly newsletter and start to send it off with Christmas cards. (Feeling somewhat under pressure, as some folk still don't know that we have moved, let alone have our new address.)
Thankful for family , even though they are all so far away that it tears my heart to shred.

There we are. No.Vember.

Some photos to bring cheer to a cheerless month:
Richard preparing to light the wood-burning stove he has installed

Lit!  It warms the room incredibly efficiently.

Final 'autumn cleaning' of TMH.  It needs a name.

Tanna coffee. From Cat and Andy in the summer. Warm climes, warm memories...

Baby butternut. The plant produced three medium sized squashes, in the end. Well done, plant!

Spinach, pre-Angus.  And the potatoes are ready now, too!

Orchids in the evening sun