Cabbages, Chickens And Game Of Thrones.

Hi All

The weather here in good old Leicestershire has been quite nice for the last few days. Unfortunately, I’ve not really sat around in it much. The mornings have found me watering baby plants that look fine one minute and then down on their knees the next, and carefully placing slug pellets in places where the slugs can munch but nothing else can.

This, of course, leaves several areas pellet-free. None are applied in the areas where the chucks scratch, none where Chea might decide to wander, and none where other ‘visitors’ to the garden might access.

Talking of the chucks I can now state with an abundant amount of optimism that Flight has made it back to the land of the living. I honestly thought she wouldn’t make it, as day after day she seemed to be losing the will to live. Frankly, I guess I shouldn’t have used that as a ‘sign’ because even I do that sometimes but I always bounce back.

Blimey, that was a touch depressing wasn’t it? Sorry, I didn’t intend it to be.

Anyway, Flight has returned to her normal self and all, for now, is well. Little looked a bit ‘suspicious’ and I’m therefore keeping an eagle eye on her. I guess being caught by Richard carefully separating a large pooh, kindly dropped by Little on the outside mat, didn’t confirm my sanity but there you go. I won’t bore you with the details but it looked a bit ‘wrong.’

I put this return from the dead down to my Victoria sandwich cake, grapes, bananas and garlic and cider apple vinegar …but I may be wrong.

So, this is my morning routine, which leaves the afternoons to sit in the sun. Er …yes, however, my son, bless his little doodah, supplied me with the first 2 seasons of Game of Thrones, stating that, ‘I don’t know if you’ll like it, Mum, but give it a go,’ and seeing how the TV is utter crap at night, I did just that – I gave it a go.

My first impression wasn’t great. I couldn’t see how it needed quite so much blood spilled, quite so many decapitations, and I also wasn’t sure that all the naked flesh on show really added to the storyline? I was informed by my friend Philip Earland that was the genre, so who am I to ague. I stuck with the next few episodes and then I realised that I was hooked. I loved several of the characters – I won’t say which characters because one of you will kindly tell me that they die in season 4!

So, this has become my afternoon sin – I watch back to back episodes of Game of Thrones. The sun shines outside and I, pale and cuddled beneath a throw (the lounge is bitterly cold) watch Game of Thrones. Of course it came to an abrupt end as I realised that my son had missed out an episode in season 4. I had words with him and the said episode is, as I write, winging its way to me in the post. See, my son is a very obedient child and obviously loves me to bits. Either that or he just can’t stand my constant wittering, and demands, and has learnt from an early age simply to go with the flow.

Richard loves all of this. No, honestly he does. I’m centre stage in the lounge with my tea, sweeties, salted cashews, the remote control, the blood and guts, and he toddles off for a ride in the countryside on his motorbike. Then, he returns, changes transport to the car and pops to McDonalds and returns with a caramel sundae thingy. I’m actually now beginning to think that I might miss him when he goes back to work next week …YES he IS going back to work next week, after 4 months convalescing after his shoulder op. Now I shall have to do all the sodding vacuuming and stuff that he has been religiously doing day-to-day. Mind, without him the house and his bloody black socks that shed black fluff all the way up the stairs, there won’t be so vacuuming to do.

This Game of Thrones thingy has had a weird effect on me to be honest. The other day I treated myself to a new battery operated hedge trimmer (I know how to get my kicks!) and we decided to try it out. As I stood with said tool in my hands, ready to go, Richard grovelled on his hands and knees to place the tarpaulin around the conifer that was about to get ‘rounded’ (massacred.) His little head was bowed and the back of his neck clearly available. The thought ran through my mind (only for a nano second!!!!!!) that it would only take the swiftest of moves from my hand and new toy and his head would be off and rolling across the gravel….and stop with the wide eyes and the look of horror that’s spreading across your face …of course I wouldn’t really do it. I love the man. Adore him. Don’t I? And besides, it was a hedge trimmer for Pete’s sake, not a flipping chainsaw!

As I say, Game of Thrones does have an impact and probably isn’t for the easily influenced …or the faint-hearted.

So, off I trot to save a baby plant of some description, and to let the chucks out to terrorise every living insect, and then, hopefully, if episode 4 of season 4 drops through the letter box I’ll be curled up inside with my caramel sundae! Yes, I know it’s wrong. But hey-ho.


Take care my lovelies x


I Can’t Ignore 3 Nominations …Thank You Patrick, Caz And Lisl.

Hi All

I have succumbed. Why? Well I’ll tell you.

Some time ago I was nominated for The Versatile Blogger award by Patrick Jones. I read the requirements for acceptance of said award and scurried off into the garden to pluck a few dead leaves from the laurel bush. Too scary…and complicated. All that copying of links and nominating other people and stating things about myself that others would find interesting? No way.

A short time later I received another nomination for The Versatile Blogger Award from Caz Greenham.

I already knew the requirements for acceptance, so this time I set about making a batch of pasties for the freezer …and ignored the nomination.

Last weekend another nomination appeared from Lisl Zlitna.  I made a few polite noises and mumbled something about looking into it, with more than the odd intention of rushing out and turning over the compost heap.

Then I kinda realised what an ungrateful bitch I was being and decided to accept their very kind nominations and go ahead with it. Sooo … here we go. These are the requirements…

1 Display the award certificate.

2 Write a post and link back to the blogger (bloggers) who nominated you.

3 Post 7 interesting things about yourself.

4 Nominate up to fifteen other bloggers and explain why you have nominated them.

5 Inform them of their nomination.


Patrick Jones

Lisl Ziltna

Caz Greenham


My nominations for The Versatile Blogger Award go to (why does that sound like I’ve dropped into The Eurovision Song Contest and about to shell-out nil points?)

1 Evelyn Steward.  Evelyn is a lovely lady who blogs regularly about nature and all things nice. She also posts her beautiful sketches and craftwork on her blogs and, as a newish blogger, deserves this nomination.

2 Jennifer Moore.  Jen’s blogs are funny, heart-warming, sad, and at times ‘cat’astropic. Jen writes beautifully about her life with her family and her pets. A must for ‘cat’ people.

3 Elaine Otty.  Elaine’s blogs are also ‘nature/craft/gardening/family’ themed and make interesting and informative reading. Elaine has been a great supporter of my blog from the beginning of time and for this I thank her personally.




7 Interesting Things About Me?

1 …This is going to be hard!

1 …even harder than I thought!

1 erm …(drums fingers on the table)

Right …

1 I have never been to Nova Scotia.

2 I have no wish to go to Nova Scotia.

3 If my son had been born a girl I would have run for the hills. I wouldn’t have known what to do with a girl child.

4 I don’t possess a single item of ‘real’ jewellery other than a silver chain with a frog charm.

6 I have never failed at anything that I wanted to achieve (big-headed? Possibly)

7 I had a wheelbarrow for my 30th birthday.

Hah! Easy. OK, so it’s a pile of dung. What did you expect? How am I supposed to come up with 7 interesting facts about myself? I don’t see myself as interesting. Do you see yourselves as interesting? Surely it’s down to other people to see us as interesting? Whatever. I should have stated at No 1 that I get easily bored because I’m now bored with it all … so that’s that. See? This is why I didn’t accept the nomination the first time!

Anyway, I’ve done it now, in my own fashion, so, hand on heart, thank you Patrick, Caz and Lisl for your very kind nominations, I do appreciate it, truly.

And I’ll take this opportunity (because they don’t come along very often) to say a huge thank you to all followers of this blog, established friends and new. Thank you xxx

Take care my lovelies xversatileblogger




Let Them Eat Cake?

Hi All

I told you in my last blog that I feared for Flight, that I thought she was on that downward spiral to chicken heaven – or should that be an upward spiral to chicken heaven? Possibly.

For days I tempted her with the odd squashed grape, watching while she cocked her head, as if half blind, to stare drunkenly at it until Little barged in and scoffed the grape in one. I tempted and wiggled cooked spaghetti beneath her tightly closed beak …until Little barged in and scoffed it in one.

As Flight grew thinner, Little grew fatter. I will be renaming her Big at this rate.

And then – Flight pecked at, and swallowed, a grape seed. An hour later she murdered an ant and managed to eat it after 4 attempts. I left them out in the sunshine for most of the day and by roosting time she had taken a few bits of lettuce and a piece of banana. Obviously not the best diet for a chicken but I didn’t care, anything down her throat was better than nothing. The following morning she looked a bit brighter and again spent most of the day in the garden, in the sunshine, pecking at a few strands of grass and occasionally accepting my humble offerings. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and for the first time actually thought that she might not be flapping up to chicken heaven.

The following morning saw her hunched up again and refusing everything. She remained that way all day and into the following day. I went to bed that night knowing beyond doubt that she wouldn’t see the sun come up.

Weirdly, Richard was up at the crack of dawn (it’s OK to say this as long as I don’t mistakenly spell dawn with a capital D) and when I came down ten minutes later he had let the chucks out. Little was bouncing on the spot, at the gate, waiting for me and my delicacies, and Flight stood some way behind her. Amazed to see that she was alive, let alone standing, I grabbed the only thing available for their morning treat – a piece of Victoria sandwich base that I’d removed from the freezer the previous night. As I approached the gate they spotted the cake. Little continued bouncing in expectation and Flight trotted to the gate to join her. As I crumbled the cake they BOTH dived on it and devoured it. Yes! Bloody devoured it!

Was that it? Was my home-made Victoria sandwich the answer? Well, I can’t say for sure but all I will say is that Flight took some lettuce, dandelion leaves, a few grubs and more cake yesterday and this morning she snaffled more and is looking much brighter.

Of course this could all still end in tears because she has bounced back before and then deteriorated again …but I am slightly more hopeful. I also put her on garlic and cider apple vinegar as I suspected a bit of sour crop. Not sure if this is having, or has had, any effect but it’s certainly jazzed-up Little, she’s running around the place like a creature insane, tail feathers flying!

Today I shall attempt to get Flight to take something more sensible but …if cake is all she will stomach right now, and admittedly only a teaspoon  at a time, then cake it will have to be. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Spring grass, vitamin D and home-made Victoria sandwich is on the menu just now …


To be continued …

Take care my lovelies x20150410_084033

War Whoops On Hold…

Hi All

Hold your horses they say …and frankly it’s something that I’m not too good at. You see, I’m an enthusiastic type by nature and rarely ‘put off till tomorrow what can be done today.’ So, when I say that I had the flag in my hand, ready to hoist at the prospect of Richard going back to work, you will understand my instant flat lining at the news that the doctor advised another 4 weeks off. Yep, another 4 weeks off!

My war whoops died in my throat and I put aside the fireworks.

Yes, I know you think me mean and I don’t blame you one iota …because you are not living my life.

In the ‘olden days’ – 3 months ago, I had a lovely little routine that some people would kill for – basically pleasing myself and with no feelings of guilt for doing so. Now, with dear Richard on the premises, I feel massive guilt if I don’t offer myself up to him as his doting and ever ready companion. You see, he isn’t able to occupy himself around the place for long and always suggests ‘popping out’ somewhere – even to the dreaded ‘garden centre.’  I’ll tell you this, I can’t fit in another teaspoon of soil conditioner or compost anywhere!

Because of this I don’t really get to turn the computer on until he trots off around 7.00pm to go for his daily walk. Yes! Richard walking! Stones the crows. And not just any walking. He’s gone for an hour at a time sometimes. I did get to wondering if he had turned into a peeping Tom because he always waits until almost dark. Changing the clocks has thrown him out of sync a bit and he now trots off as daylight fades.

Then I got to thinking that he might be popping in somewhere? To see someone? Another woman? But to be honest, the only evidence of any ‘other than normal behaviour,’ is the smell of chocolate that follows him as he walks back through the door.

He swears he isn’t visiting the local Spar store but I suspect otherwise.

And now I’ll come clean and admit something that I never thought I would admit – I’ve kinda got used to him being around. Bloody hell I hear you cry but it’s true. Admittedly, I can no longer spend hours trawling Facebook, Twitter, etc., etc., and I haven’t started another book either, but is this a bad thing? I think not. I think things happen for a reason and I think I was spending way too much time on silly, time-consuming things. I’m not saying writing is a silly, time-consuming thing but it won’t hurt to take a break.

I also have to admit – in writing – that he has been nothing at all like I expected him to be. He is doing really well and I can’t get near to the sink or wrench the vacuum from his hand. He rarely complains about shoulder pain and has turned into a brave little soldier. I am, to be honest, amazed. I thought the last 3 months were going to be hell, but they haven’t been. Other than feeling guilty at ‘doing my own thing,’ it has been all good in the hood. He has played with his motorbike, quietly and unobtrusively, whilst I have toiled in the veggie garden, fighting off the recent winds and erecting netting and plastic sheeting to prevent Chea from poohing in the newly planted seedlings. Chea has paid no mind to the acres of netting and has, at every opportunity, crept beneath it and opened up her delicate little bowels …lovely. It’ll do wonders for the onions.

I think the extra 4 weeks are just going to be the icing on the cake. They will polish him up to new (ish) and then off he will gallop, back to work, to earn lots of lovely money and I can get back to doing what I love doing …pleasing myself and following my own routine …which, frankly, isn’t a routine …that’s the whole point.

One thing that I have noticed with the dear man is that he appears not to hear me very well these days …unless I quietly enquire if he would like the last piece of chocolate cake and then he has ears the size of a donkey’s and answers immediately. I’ve told him to get onto the internet and book a hearing test.

He said, ‘What?’

I didn’t answer.

He then said, ‘I know exactly what they will say – they will say that I need my ears clearing of wax.’

I blanched a bit at that.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘if you don’t mind me walking around here for a week with cotton wool in my ears that’s fine.’

‘Oh God!’ I exclaimed, ‘not another sodding bottle of Earex?’ The medicine drawer must have 4 bottles of the bloody stuff …all out of date and moulding.

‘No, I’ll use olive oil,’ he said smugly.

‘Not my GOOD olive oil!’ I said.

‘Oh, I suppose you want me to use chip fat?’

We don’t possess chip fat. ‘No,’ I said. ‘You can use that stir fry oil that’s been kicking around for ages.’

‘Charming!’ he said, laughing. ‘So, I’ll smell like a Chinese takeaway?’

‘Be different to smelling of chocolate.’

He looked confused, briefly, and then said. ‘I’ve told you before, I don’t buy chocolate when I’m out walking.’

Well, all I can say is, if he doesn’t buy the stuff when out walking, his fancy woman must do a good line in hot chocolate?

To date, the cotton wool has not entered his ear canal and he is still practising selective hearing.

And now, Richard is telling me that it’s time to trot off to the farm shop to pick up some shavings for the chucks cage …see what I mean? Although – poor Flight (grey chuck) isn’t well. She’s been up and down for the last 4 weeks – bright, happy, then a bit low, and now she looks sad and sits around rather uninterested in most things. I fear I may lose her and that will be hard. Little – (white chuck) adores Flight and, I fear, will not want to live without her.

But that hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll just keep my fingers crossed and apply all the love and attention that I can muster.

So, off we trot …

Take care my lovelies and have a lovely Easter.2014-06-20 10.37.17