It’s polling day for some. I may or may not be voting Green. Sitting in my garden this morning, all was green and full of birdsong. Song Thrush, Blackbird, Wren, Goldfinch, Robin, Wood Pigeon, Blue Tit, Dunlin, House Sparrow, and probably more. 
Shame to spoil it. 
I have taken people’s advice and I’m slowly recovering. Muscles ache in the most unusual places. Taking advantage of the remarkable spell of weather, most days I go for a short wander up on the fell or call in at Craigy for a chat with the climbers there. My garden is getting a good weeding, in short bursts.
This is a good opportunity to highlight the trees in the garden, as most mornings, they greet me when I draw the curtains. It’s not quite dawn, but this is an attempt to capture the bird song in the trees. Using ‘Merlin’, I counted 15 species in 10 minutes. I do have fields behind the garden. I only wish I could see most of them! Turn the volume up.
House Sparrow, Robin, Wood Pigeon, Wren, Song Thrush, Mallard, Blue Tit, Blackbird, Greenfinch, Jay, Goldfinch, Dunnock, Pheasant, Jackdaw, Great Tit.
Whilst out and about, I am pleased to see the return of the Great Crested Grebes, a little late this year. They have built a floating nest, and every time I pass by, the male is out fishing or collecting more nest material whilst she sits tight. One day, I had a glimpse of the empty nest, and there was certainly one egg there, perhaps two; time will tell. 
Catching a picture of my two lively kittens is becoming much harder.
Simple pleasures.
Out with, but not gone to, the dogs.
My son and partner visit from Manchester with their two dogs.
I keep the kittens locked in their large cage, but the dogs only sniff them in passing. I think it would be different if they were running loose. Anyhow, we are not in for long as we take the dogs for some exercise in the plantation up the fell.
The good weather continues, but I haven’t ventured much further than the garden. An hour’s weeding tires me out. My back is still very sore, so I’m unable to wear a rucksack — a reminder to take it easy. However, the chance to have a walk, no matter how short, is too good to miss.
The dogs know their way around the plantation and once in the open run themselves silly before cooling off in the stream. 
We enjoy the dry paths, all the new greenery and the abundant bird song. 
There is always time for some tree hugging.
Hardly more than a mile, but invigorating for me to be out and about again. It’s good to be alive, a hackneyed phrase, but simple pleasures with the family are precious.
A sociable lunch and the family head home.
I head to bed almost straight away and sleep for 12 hours.
After last week’s drama, my family have put me on ‘gardening leave’, with strict instructions not to go wandering in the hills or climbing at Craig Y. I’m happy to go along with that as I’m still tired, very bruised and stiff following my chair encounter and subsequent hospital stay. I couldn’t shoulder a rucksack at present. And so much is happening in the garden at this time of year.
I’ll try not to step on a rake, put a fork through my foot or chop off any fingers.
Trust me to be laid up when the weather is set fair; ah, well, there will be more days like this, I hope, in summer.
And as a bonus, I have more time to watch the antics of Dusty and Oscar.
The cherry blosson is coming out, and I think I’m turning Japanese – I really think so.
Looking out of the kitchen window today, I spy this young hedgehog nibbling on some of the catfood.
I know, or rather I hope, that the family is still about in the garden. They have a home at the back and regularly forage across the lawn.
I keep meaning to install a motion camera to watch nocturnal activities.
Anyhow, it is a joy to observe this little creature.
My Wiltshire travels are on hold until my new laptop arrives, but I should be able to post this from my phone.
As you can see, I’m rather incapacitated at present. I have had my first cataract operation, on the right eye, last week. Until it improves I have lost my stereoscopic binocular vision. I’m having trouble judging distances, my world is temporarily two dimensional for the most part. Simple little tasks like pouring a teapot need a lot of concentration to avoid missing the cup altogether. Even hitting the right keys on the keyboard is not straight forward. Driving is on hold for a few days. There will be no walks for awhile. Hence this more mundane post today.
*
The operation was a little complicated for reasons I won’t go into, taking twice as long as usual and needing all the skill of the surgeon of whom I’m in awe. Lying perfectly still for three quarters of an hour wasn’t easy. Anyhow I’m on the mend, the shield has now come off except for night time and the blurriness is receding One drawback, though essential, is having to use eyedrops every four hours. I set my alarm to remand me six times a day and to get me up for the 4am dose. The second operation, on my left eye, is due in August when I will go through it all again.
*
This week whilst resting up I have had a series of appliance failures, electrical rather than bodily this time. I knew my microwave was ‘on the blink’ ( no direct reference to my eye problems) so before surgery I payed a visit to our local friendly electric shop and came home with a new microwave. Amazingly I was able to purchase the simplest version with not a digital screen in sight, just two knobs – timer and power. Just like they used to be. 
At the same time my expresso coffee machine, which has done good service over maybe 20 years, started to cut out. I suspect the thermostat is malfunctioning but in this throwaway society there is no chance of repair. My morning coffee is essential so I was starting to get withdrawal symptoms. Unfortunately the shop doesn’t sell these machines so I have to revert to the internet, I normally always try to buy local. What a complex subject with some versions costing up to a thousand pounds for the barista touch. Lakeland Plastics have a reasonably priced version just coming out but in their sale was the old version at half price. It arrives promptly in the largest cardboard box possible. I’m getting the hang of it, time will tell how reliable it will be. 
They say things come in threes and yesterday I noticed my freezer had stopped working, possibly without my knowledge for a few days. Everything was well and truly defrosted and beyond safely saving. My job today was to empty it. Bread, cakes and pizzas have gone to the birds – I have a hungry family of blackbirds. The vegetables and prepared soups etc were loaded into the barrow to boost the compost heap. What a shame. I haven’t thought about a replacement as yet. 
*
All this has me thinking – where does the expression ‘things come in threes’ – good as well as bad, come from?
The number three has historical as well as folklore relevance. The Holy Trinity and The Three Wise Men from the bible. The Trimurti triad in Hinduism. Literature and Fairy Tales have three bears, three wishes, and three challenges. In everyday life we suggest the best of three and count to three before a race. Three darts. Three Lions. Three Bells.
The origins remain unclear but we continue to use it. Psychologists suggest that by accepting a limit of three we subconsciously create an end point and hope our bad luck will cease. Obviously there is no evidence to support bad luck occurring in threes, randomness prevails. We forget the times when bad luck didn’t occur in threes and hence perpetuate the the theory.
So my three bad luck stories this week are purely coincidental and there may be another one around the corner. Or lets hope for some good luck stories, preferably in threes.
*
Whilst taking my defrozen food to the compost heap I am assailed by a deep sweet rose scent coming from rambling Bobbie James. I leave you with a picture of him, you will have to imagine the scent.
I can’t help thinking that despite my troubled week I have come up smelling of roses.
Last week I was dining on wild garlic and poaches eggs, a delicacy. A reader recommended wild garlic and mushroom risotto so off I went to collect more in the woods. I had to be content with bought mushrooms, there aren’t many wild edible ones at this time of the year as far as I know. A successful recipe and I had garlic leaves to spare, so froze a bag of them.
Wild Garlic and Mushroom Risotto.
This week I turned my attention to the garden which has become a little, maybe a lot, neglected in the last two years. I didn’t have to worry about the lawn as it is ‘No mow May’. But the borders needed weeding, I donned my thick gloves and started with the nettles and brambles. Before long I had a barrow load of nettles. I set to and stripped off the youngest, freshest leaves for cooking. I have often made nettle soup before and checking a few recipes found one with wild garlic – how convenient. I washed the nettle leaves and defrosted the frozen garlic. Cooked an onion and added the all the leaves whilst boiling a few potatoes. The latter were added, along with seasonings and left to simmer. I still use a pressure cooker for soups. Add a little cream and I had the most satisfying tea. I use ‘tea’ as in the Northern style – a substantial meal early evening. ‘Dinner’ is at lunchtime and ‘Supper’ a snack before bed. ‘Lunch’ doesn’t figure.
From garden to table. It must be full of goodness.
Whilst in the garden I managed to capture a shot of an Orange Tip enjoying my geraniums. These early butterflies are everywhere at the moment but had eluded my lens the other day. 
Those aren’t my walking boots, they are on hold for the moment, but my gardening shoes. I have a habit of leaning them upside down, to keep them dry, outside the backdoor after what is usually a short session of weeding or mowing. There they remained for a few days whilst we had an onslaught of continuous rain. You may recall the sad end to the Ashes Test at Old Trafford last week.
This morning I thought I would do a spot of rose deadheading, a relaxing activity unlikely to put a strain on any of my ongoing injuries. I shoe horn my right foot into the shoe, tying the laces. The left foot comes up against something soft and mysterious. Had I left a sock in there? Putting my fingers in I can’t dislodge the obstruction, but tapping the shoe on the floor brings out a toad to my surprise and amusement. He, they always look like a ‘he’, sits there unconcerned. I check the shoe for his mate but only find a slug presumably his lunch. Gardening is delayed whilst I retreat for another coffee. 
Toad in the hole – the story relates that on an unspecified golf course a player’s ball was pushed out of the 18th hole after which the offending toad poked his head out to the amazement of the players. The chef at the golf club devised a dish immortalizing this episode; a sausage, the mole, poking its head out of the batter. This is how legends are born.
Jamie Oliver’s Toad in the hole.
*****
Every day I see a pair of Mallards sitting on my lawn. They were attracted no doubt by my small pond and the bird food I spread on the ground every morning. The fact that they are together suggests that the duck hasn’t laid any eggs yet, I cannot see any sign of a nest. 
I made a rough home for a hedgehog out of reeds, twigs and leaves earlier in the year hoping to attract them into my garden. Yesterday at dusk a hedgehog wandered across the lawn. It is probably around when I’m in bed. Let’s hope for a family. My photograph is not that good,I missed its snout.
The male pheasant who used to come for food has gone elsewhere. There is an abundance of blackbirds, robins, sparrows, starlings, great and blue tits all busy feeding their young scattered in hidden nests around the garden. A pair of magpies are no doubt doing damage to the smaller birds eggs.
These three were less welcome visitors.
Meanwhile, up on the Upper Dilworth Reservoir where I park to go bouldering in Craig Y Longridge there is quite a lot of activity. The Mallards had chicks a while back, not sure how many will survive. 
The Canada Geese are showing off their youngsters.
The Tufted Ducks are just swimming around though they have nested on the island in previous years.
But the highlight of this week was watching the pair of Great Crested Grebes on the water. I have been keeping an eye on them for several weeks, I missed their mating dance. I saw them building a nest in the reeds, but the foliage growth had camouflaged it, so I didn’t know if she had laid any eggs. I can see now that she has two chicks and is carrying them on her back whilst the male goes off diving for fish. They are quite a way out on the water, so my camera struggled to cope. The two young are virtually invisible on her back from this distance, just a flash of white feathers, but when the male returns their heads pop up, and sometimes they take to the water. He feeds her small fish, and I’m sure he was also giving titbits to the young. What a privilege to be able to watch their family life. 
While I’m bouldering in Craig Y I often hear a Wren’s alarm call, and today I saw her fly out from low down in the rock face. On investigating there was the domed mossy nest in a crack. I kept well away for the rest of my session.
Oh! And I thought my garden was looking very green. You can’t see the weeds.
PS. I called in to see some friends today after a walk, they have a rough patch of grass in front of their house, and it was full of orchids – I’m not sure which variety, but I liked them.
In the absence of any serious walking I often pop up in the car to the small reservoir at the top of Longridge. There are a pair of Great Crested Grebes usually in evidence, diving into the depths. They apparently have a splendid mating dance but so far have not displayed it to me.
But today who should wander into my garden but this splendid Garganey drake. A rare visitor indeed.
Just a photo of the blossoms in my garden before the cold and windy weather comes and all is confetti. Magnolia stellata and a Prunus.
Enjoy.
This post from last year mysteriously disappeared and has suddenly popped up as a draft. I thought I might as well repost it.
https://community.rspb.org.uk/ourwork/b/scotland/posts/do-it-yourself-bird-feeders
In the meantime I find just throwing bird food on the ground or bird table is effective. I know there are reasons not to do so but at least I get this fine chap coming to dine most days.
I have become somewhat dilatory on the walking front despite the fact that we are allowed out more. There is nothing to stop me from driving up to Langdale and climbing the Pikes. Nothing that is except common sense. I posted a few days ago a piece from the Coniston MRT advising against fellwalking at the moment. I think I’ve become disorientated by the confusing Governments announcements giving us greater freedom and others telling us to stay at home. The death rates seem to be staying high so stay at home is the obvious choice.
At the back of my garden 40years ago I planted trees to give shelter and some privacy, They have grown to 30 or 40ft and need their crowns taking out before they grow any bigger.
Now is the time. Actually, it isn’t the best while the trees are in leaf but there you go.
Out come the ladders and the bow saw. I’m very much aware of not having an accident in these lockdown times so I securely fix my ladders, top and bottom. My climbing harness is brought into action to prevent any tumbles from a great height.
The trees have lost some limbs but suffice to say I’m typing this with all my limbs intact.
After a couple of days sawing and pruning, shredding and logging I’ve spread a decent amount of wood chippings as a mulch on my flower beds and have a nice pile of logs for my log burner next winter.
Following on from Woody Herman’s rendition above [was Woody a common factor?] another old favourite tune came to mind – Woodman Spare That Tree sang by Phil Harris, a regular on Saturday morning’s Uncle Mac’s Favourites on the radio’s Light Programme back in the ’50s. Uncle Mac would play tunes requested by children who were thrilled if their name was read out on the radio – he never played any of mine.
I’ve just found out that the above quirky tune was based on an original poem by George Pope Morris, 1802-64. Set to music in 1837 by Henry Russell. It is one of the earliest known songs to champion a social cause, in this case, the preservation of nature.
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I’ll protect it now.
‘Twas my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy ax shall harm it not.
That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea—
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that agèd oak
Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand—
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.
My heart-strings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot;
While I’ve a hand to save,
Thy ax shall harm it not.
I despair at the trees cut down in our village to make way for developments. I hope that the pruning I’ve done the last few days will ensure my mature trees will survive for many more years long after I’ve gone.
I’m forever extolling the fortunate privilege of having a garden to relax in during this Covid-19 lockdown. The last month has seen record sunshine and being outside without risk of encountering the virus has been a bonus, despite the extra work I’ve found for myself.
As the weather is changing I’ll probably be busy inside the house so here are a few pictures as I wander around the garden. In 2017 I posted a month by month view of my garden but as you can see April is one of the most colourful and promising months of the year. Award yourself a prize if you can correctly identify them all…
and I can’t resist a couple of good sunsets…
All that without leaving the house, I’m so lucky compared to many..
The weather is set fair for the weekend, the days are lengthening and I would normally be off on some long-distance path around this date. My long time friend Mel and I often choose March/April for one of our sorties which we have been doing for over the last 20 years. [more of Mel in a later post]
I feel the urge for an overnight camping trip somewhere.
Happy Easter.
Why start a post on backpacking with a tray of eggs? I certainly wasn’t going to take them with me…
It’s great sorting through my camping gear, the smell and the touch bring back memories of trips both at home and abroad. I’ve several backpacking tents, all a little dated now. My favourite for lightweight trips is my solo Saunders Jetpacker. I only use the outer and pitch it with my trekking poles which saves a load of weight. I’ve never bothered with Thermarest type inflatable sleeping pads as I’m happy sleeping on a short piece of foam. The temperature at night isn’t much less than 10 degrees so my three-season ME Dew Line should be warm enough. As I don’t use the inner tent I pack a very lightweight bivi sac to protect my sleeping bag and give a little extra warmth.
I can’t find any gas cartridges for my stove so I decided to eat supper before I go. I’m only out one night and cold muesli will be fine in the morning. As I’d had 3 dozen eggs, pictured above, delivered this morning I make a Spanish Omelette, tortilla, for supper. It is very filling therefore I’ll freeze the remaining slices. For afters, I have a slice of the pear crumble I made last night from a surfeit of fruit, delicious. So more pictures of food which is becoming an obsession in this lockdown.
Tortilla.
Pear crumble – fast disappearing.
Well fortified I set off from home with what was a very light rucksack, Golite in fact. I need to find somewhere out of sight and off the beaten track to pitch my tent and fortunately I found such a spot with plenty of light left. All seems well with the tent and I have it up in about 5minutes. I settle in with a crossword as darkness quickly falls, a couple of owls hoot and then all becomes silent. 
There is a heavy dew in the night but I stay snug and dry. A far off cockerel heralds the day rather early, about 4am, and the general bird song starts an hour later. I then fall asleep again until seven-thirty. I skip breakfast, pack the wet tent and head back to my house before anyone is about.
This has only been a short taste of backpacking but it has broken some of the monotony of the lockdown and brought back memories of more dramatic camps throughout the world. I’m rather pleased that a simple night under ‘canvas’ can still give such pleasure. I may even attempt a two-night trip next week.
There is no map of my short walk as I need to keep the camping spot a secret to use again.
I don’t think I’m going to be very good at this. I don’t have a regular routine at the best of times – get up when I feel like it, eat at odd hours, read and listen to the radio through a lot of the night. Should I keep to my non-routine or change to the ones recommended everywhere at the moment? The best I’ve seen was a video from an ex submarine captain who was used to months underwater in very confined conditions. Worth a look…
It may work for you but a couple of weeks in and I haven’t changed so it looks likely that I’ll plod on as I am.
I wake at maybe 8 o’clock, come downstairs to make coffee and feed the cat. Now I have an extra job – bring in the milk from the doorstep and wash the bottles in soapy water. Don’t believe I’m writing this, what hope for people with OCD? My hands are already getting chapped with all this soapy water washing. I never thought when I started this humble blog site about rock climbing and walking that I would be posting a picture of milk bottles.
I take my coffee back to bed and have a look at what’s happening in the world and in my Emails on the computer. I get distracted by some climbing videos on youtube, you know how it is. One often links into another and another, better make another coffee.
Once up and about I go into the garden. I’m slowly working my way around the beds weeding and clearing up. I tend to do about 2-3 hours until my back has had enough, there are plenty of days left for more. I’ve a good selection of all the common weeds as well as some plants I introduced and wish I hadn’t. This is the first year for a while to have the time to do a thorough job and try and catch the weeds before they become established.
Common weeds…
Bittercress. Seeds early and everywhere.
Cleavers. Sticks to everything.
Dandelion. Deep tap root, worse in lawns.
…Herb Bennet, Nettle, Buttercup, Rosebay Willowherb, Chickweed, Ivy, Bramble – the list goes on.
Plants I introduced by mistake…
Dog Violet. Tenacious little b…..
Cuckoo Pint. Bulblets and seeds proliferate out of control.
Welsh Poppy. Orange variety has a deep taproot.
Yellow Variegated Dead Nettle. I wish it was dead, suckers everywhere. I was a sucker to plant it.
And then there is my lawn in amongst the moss. Need to buy some lawn sand, I will have to look online.
Lawn in my moss.
I could write a whole post on weeds, I almost have. When is a weed a flower? Catch them early before they flower. They’ll all be back tomorrow. 
The cherry blossom I pictured in my last post a week ago is shedding petals like snow in today’s breeze, it’s such a shame they only last a short time, rather sad really.
The fields opposite my house are earmarked for development and in the last few weeks the bulldozers have been in and stripped the hedges and destroyed most of the trees. They had started on the drainage and access roads but now the site is closed down leaving the whole place in a mess. I used to see deer and hares in those fields and the hedges were full of birds, what now for wildlife? Anyhow, I’m straying off the subject but this has prompted me to build a few more bird nest boxes which are now in place around my garden. The sound of bird song is very noticeable this spring as there is little traffic noise.
The day passes quickly and cooking my evening meal is something to look forward to. Normally I shop up in the village every day and buy what takes my fancy for that evening’s meal. That’s all changed of course and now I delve into my store cupboard for inspiration, tonight I used rice and lentils to make dal bhat. Dal bhat is a traditional popular meal from Nepal consisting of rice and spiced lentils. It is a staple food in these countries so as I have a good supply of rice and lentils I should be able to see out many weeks of isolation. I learnt to cook it fairly authentically whilst travelling in Nepal and I still have some spices bought there which are difficult to get in the UK.
What I’ll miss most are fresh fruit and vegetables. I’ve tried to book supermarket deliveries but all the slots are taken so I’ve turned to a local fruit and vegetable firm who normally supply to the catering trade. I’ve just phoned them and they couldn’t have been more helpful, I’ve a box being delivered tomorrow. Maybe picture then and give a plug if they are up to scratch.
The evening is passed with maybe an hour trying one of the cryptic crosswords from my bumper book of TheTimes Crosswords.
Then tonight I’m going to watch some films from the Banff Mountain Film Festival. Every year they normally host an adventure film festival and the organisers have selected a series of films to view free every Wednesday throughout this isolation period. Very good of them, thank you, my own little film festival – I’d get out the popcorn if I had any! 
Fell asleep halfway through the last film – just like the real cinema.
Times moved on quickly and I don’t have much to show for it. That just about sums up my day. So don’t take any advice from me regarding isolation strategies as I don’t really have any except…
“Take one day at a time”
It’s a wonderful time of the year with some exceptional weather, the blossoms are appearing and we’ve just gone onto British Summertime which I always look upon as a turning point.
My cat manages to sleep from dawn to dusk finding warm sunshine throughout the day. I’m jealous.
Last week I was going out for short walks from home Social Distancing as I went. Then this week I developed a sore throat, fever and headaches; I’m sure, or almost sure, that this isn’t the coronavirus but the rules say if you have symptoms then Self Isolation is necessary for 7 days.
That’s no great hardship as I’m pretty self-reliant but I think I misread the rules and thought I was not to leave my house at all [that is Shielding – we all have to get accustomed to these new terms] So I’ve stopped going out altogether which is probably wise in any case. Hence no walking in this post.
I’m fine for food and medicines and have been pleasantly surprised by the offers of help in that direction. Thanks to those concerned.
My telephone line has never been so busy as I catch up with friends near and far.
And there is the bonus of a new friend who is almost hand tame after a couple of days gardening.
On a larger scale, the night skies have been clear with a bright crescent moon and an even brighter Venus.
Lots of positives there.
Well I made it through the year with my garden diary.
Today is the winter solstice, seven hours and 49 minutes of daylight if you are lucky. Its pretty grim here today in Lancashire with drizzle and mist. I missed the classic photo of the robin in the snow last week. Not much else to show in the garden at the moment.
Picea koraiensis
Helleborus foetidus
HAVE A GREAT XMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
Another month has flashed by…
As i wandered round The Royal Horticultural Society’s garden at Wisley last week I was making a mental note of any colour for this time of year. To be honest not a lot stood out. The trees were resplendent in autumn colours as one would expect, there were some unidentified tall white grasses near the glass house but you had to look closer to spot anything that would be of use in my small northern garden.
Red Dogwoods were brilliantly coloured but more suitable for an urban park than my borders but there may be room for a couple at the back of a shrub bed. Pyracantha, Firethorn, seemed more colourful than the Cotoneaster in my garden, though with their thorns maybe a position against a wall would be best. So that is two to buy in for next year.
But what about now, Last week we had the deluge for a few days and now morning ground frosts have become established.
Leaves continue to colour and then blow around the lawn and into my pond, which needs a good clear out.
Euonymus alatus.
Spot the fish.
Nerines are flowering still, as last month, but little else. My Mahonia Charity has started flowering and will do so over winter.
Hydrangea heads are drying out and showing pastel shades, I should get round to picking some. 
The seed heads of Phlomis are worth leaving on the plants over winter for their intricate structure. 
The holly berries have been eaten by the blackbirds but red berries on the Berberis shrubs are lasting well.
The trees are almost bare of leaves and this has enabled some lovely low sunsets on the last few clear evenings.