Ooops, I did it again! I can't believe it has been two weeks since I posted, and I had sooo much to tell you, better late than never?
The last two weeks have been complete mayhem, so much going on, ah where to begin?
Well, it all started when I was quietly minding my own business and going about my housework, suddenly I heard something hit the window, and immediately shouted at the children, who were hurling balls at one another, to mind the windows. I went to inspect the damage, and to my complete surprise, found this little darling unconscious on the floor.
A kingfisher! This silly young thing had flown into the window at such speed that he knocked himself out cold. Kingfishers, I am sure, are a rare sight at the best of times, we occasionally catch a glimpse of their vivid blue plumage as they flit across the lake, but to see one up close, THIS CLOSE, was quite a magnificent sight.
Poor Mr Kingfisher was in a sorry state, he sat quietly, cupped in Simon's big strong hands without even so much as a flutter of his wings.
It is not the first time we have had a bird in hand under much the same circumstances, country life delivers all manner of creatures into our home, and over the months we have had swallows, blue tits and bats, amongst many things, all render themselves unconscious after flying head first into our windows.
They normally always recover their composure after a few minutes and fly back to wherever it is they came from, but Mr Kingfisher stayed put.
Simon thought it would be a good idea to carry him closer to the lake where he might recognise his surroundings better and fly away. No sooner had we reached the lakes bank Mr Kingfisher took off, one gloriously high swoop before he fell, with great speed, right into the water! He kind of half sunk, half floated, Simon quickly fetched the boat, which was perilously close to sinking on account of being full of rain water, and heroically set out to rescue Mr Kingfisher from drowning.
Back on safe ground, Mr Kingfisher sat, once again, quietly in Simon's hands. After much time had passed and darkness began to draw in, we decided to make a wee nest for Mr Kingfisher and pop him in a nearby tree where he could recover in peace. An old plastic plant pot stuffed with hay and dry grass cuttings was positioned carefully and Mr Kingfisher nestled gently on top. Ambear and Hoozel trooped back and forth from house to tree, in pyjamas and wellington boots, diligent in their self-appointed nursing duties, to check on Mr Kingfisher at regular intervals, eventually, as the sun went down, off they went to bed, chatting excitedly about their new avian friend.
I returned to my housework and Simon to the Football on tv, when Mr Pip alerted us to the imminent arrival of Minnu's kittens. He was busy giving her a monkey nibble (this weird affectionate nibbling thing he does to loved ones) and generally paying her too much attention, we quickly realised her panting was due to labour and not Pips amorous chomping at her neck, and were all, once again, on tenterhooks the entire evening.
The first kitten popped out and into the world at midnight, and I was awake all night beside Minnu, as she pushed out two more wee bundles of fluff, the last being at 8am the next morning, when Ambear was excitedly awaiting it's arrival, an incident which did much to answer my inquisitive 8 year olds questions about my own imminent labour - though it took some explaining as to why humans are not born in sacks and mum's don't hungrily start chomping on the placenta!
By now I was dog tired and took myself to bed, no sooner had I settled down to sleep I heard the hounds making a racket, and thus discovered them moments later, attached at the groin after obviously enjoying some humpy time. We had not even been aware that Nala was in season, and planned to get her spayed before Pip came of age, but he quite literally, pipped us at the post! Two weeks on from this very hectic 24 hours of injured birds, birthing cats and humping dogs, we now wait with baited breath for Nala's vet appointment to find out if she is pregnant, and we have three very cute little bundles of kitten to occupy us in the meantime!
I should add, that Mr Kingfisher was not in his new nest the following morning, and we have regularly spotted that blaze of blue darting back and forth across the lake, so can safely assume he recovered and returned to his own abode!
During my absence I have also been back to England, to take the dreaded Driving Theory test. My approach to study and revision is somewhat haphazard, and so no one was more surprised than me when I passed with flying colours! So, I am now a driver in theory, and will be returning to the UK again soon to take my practical driving test.
I am no longer able to ride my bicycle on account of my bump having skewed my balance. I must also accept the idea that once the bump is deflated and replaced by a screaming bundle of cuteness, that cycling is not going to be much of a daily occurance anyway (and I don't much fancy one of those strange pram contraptions that attach to the rear end of a bicycle), so driving a car, after many years of having happily travelled on foot, is suddenly looking like a rather attractive prospect, since I would be lucky to reach my neighbours on foot in one morning, let alone the local shops.
All my adult life I have walked, cycled or braved the perils and filth of public transport to get from A to B, but rural France demands a car, and a car I will have, all in good time.
Of course, cars tend not to deliver themselves unto your doorstep, there is no magic wand to be waved that miraculously alerts you as to the perfect vehicle for you, and so the search has begun, and my god how boring is finding a car?!
My first choice was a vintage Morris Minor, Simon pointed out, that since I am soon to be a mother of 3 sproglets, a vintage car is perhaps not the most practical or reliable choice. I stewed about this for a few days, really I did, I mean, have you seen Morris Minors? They are so cute, and charming, and I dare say, SO ME.
Alas, Simon said I will not be allowed a pale blue polka dotted Morris Minor (it would have to be polka dotted of course!), and that I really ought to consider a proper MUM car, like say, a Citroen Xsara Picasso, yawwwwwwwwn, or dare I even say it, a Renault Espace - if I WERE a practical person then I would be inclined to agree, alas I am not, I am most impractical, and being mother to 3 children before I am 30 will probably not change that, at least I am fighting, with all my wrath, against it, for now at least, perhaps I can compromise.....
I wonder what a Xsara Picasso would look like with Polka Dots?
Anyways, I am now moving into my third trimester of pregnancy, I am heavy, BIG and oh so cumbersome, the blisteringly hot weather is somewhat hard to bare and once again I can feel that dreaded fatigue closing in on me, I need to start sewing, and fast!
On a final note, my lovely wonderful friend Sena, has just started her own blog, be a darling and go and take a peek, she is a super sweet gal and has a super sweet new blog to match! By The Blue Grass.
One of the perils of country living is of course, mice. When we first bought our house, and were using it only for vacations every now and then, we had a terrible infestation that practically brought me to a nervous breakdown. The house was literally crawling with them, and this was at a time when I had no kitchen, no washing machine, and very few home comforts, as we were still renovating, the mice, were not a welcome addition.
I would wake up at night convinced they were nesting inside my pillow, screaming like a banshee. Simon would drag me from my bed at some ridiculous hour of the night and with lights switched on, give my pillow a thorough shake and bashing to prove there were no mice inside, it was so bad, he almost sent me to the men in white coats.
Eventually, after much effort, we managed to get rid of them all, and stuffed every conceivable entry point into the house with wire wool (mice won't chew threw it as it cuts their mouths), and we never saw a mouse in the house again, that is, until now.
I opened my kitchen cupboard on Saturday and found a very small mouse staring back at me.
I am not squeamish, I didn't run screaming for help, I stared straight at the little beggar until he scampered off into the back of the cupboard.
He was a little field mouse, big round ears and glossy little eyes as black as soot, very cute indeed, however, not so cute in my kitchen cupboard!
I closed the door on him, and considered for a moment what to do. I was quite cross, you see, Nala normally sniffs out a mouse the moment it enters the house, and we have 4 cats, it would have to be a very stupid mouse to venture into our house! Alas, Nala's senses are clearly confused, she is evidently far too busy stalking duck butt to bother about a little mouse.
I called her and Mr Pip into the kitchen, and set about emptying all of my kitchen cupboards, then instructed the dogs to do their work.
Ambear, Hoozel and myself, watched with great amusement as the tiny little mouse scampered from one cupboard to another (via little holes cut for pipes), and the dogs tumbled clumsily in and out of each cupboard after him. Back and forth they went, cupboard to cupboard for what seemed like an age, before the little mouse finally disappeared to wherever it is he came from. The dogs were sent back out, many a dull hour were spent thoroughly cleaning the cupboards and it's contents, and then Simon dutifully lay a humane trap baited with bread, so that little mouse would be caught but not hurt.
The next morning, we were preparing breakfast and heard the trap rattling, one little mouse was caught and released far, far from the house. We thought that was the end of that, but replaced the trap in the cupboard just in case.
The next morning we checked it, the bread was gone but no mouse to be seen, now I was really cross!
I tore the kitchen apart looking for, what now seemed to be where "they", were nesting, but found nothing, and so very confused, the trap was returned to the cupboard, and again we waited.
Less than an hour passed and the trap was rattling away with another little mouse, we have caught another since, and another has sneakily stole the bread away, and at last, I have figured out where they are coming from!
The pipes leading out of the back kitchen wall (in the cupboard under the sink), which were previously stuffed with wire wool, now revealed a slight hole - did you know a little mouse can squeeze through a hole the same diameter as a pen?
The hole has been stuffed again, this time more securely, and the trap laid, just in case, but so far, so good, no thanks to the dogs, who are still, predictably, sniffing ducks ass.
So, mouse problem aside, all is very well! I have been working on a very time consuming, but certainly rather special Dotee doll, which I hope to finish shortly and will share with you in due course.
Also, the weather has been blisteringly hot, and three consecutive days of heat has spurred the fish in the lake into action, they have been spawning for the last 48 hours which is quite a magnificent sight!
The carp literally roll around the reeds at the edge of the lake, so close, and so busy that you could literally pick them up with your hands!
Much work has been done in the garden too, raised beds for potatoes and onions were finally laid, lots of flowers and plants added here and there, more brambles were cleared and more digging than my shoulders care to remember has taken place over the last few days.
Today, for the first time, we enjoyed the very first of our homegrown (if you discount eggs) produce!
The spinach survived the chickens, against all the odds, and was a very tasty addition to tonights dinner, yay for us!
I have been buying fabric like a woman gone mad, and packages are arriving daily, with scrumptious patterns galore, here are a few of my recent favourites, now, what to do with them all.....?
Secret projects will soon be underway my lovelies, watch this space!
Wow, what a day. Where to begin? Well, it was gloriously sunny today, thus the only rightful place for me to be was enjoying the great outdoors.
I decided to take advantage of the beautiful light and have a tinker with the SLR camera, to see if I could figure out all the fancy settings, and see what I could do with it.
I wondered around for a couple of hours, snapping here and there, it was proving to be a very warm and peaceful morning. Then just as I was settling down with Simon in front of the lake, for a cup of tea and a chat about the photos I had been taking, we heard the dogs barking from quite a distance.
My immediate concern was that they had crossed over into the farmers fields and were harassing his cows, an offense which is likely to get them shot, and rightly so.
This seemed unlikely as they are generally very respectful of their boundaries, and as we got closer to the noise we realised that it wasn't cows that were on the receiving end of their wrath, but a Ragondin.
You may remember me writing about these horrid creatures a short while ago, they are huge water living rat like creatures, the French hate them, and with good reason, and now our dogs had one cornered in a very long dark tunnel at the foot of the gloopy glop.
Ragondin's are not aggressive animals, but will attack if cornered, they have HUGE teeth, dogs that hunt these animals wear 4" wide nylon collars to protect their throats, as having their jugular torn open by a frightened Ragondin is how many dogs meet their fate, needless to say, upon discovering that my silly hounds had actually followed one of these creatures into a tunnel, I was somewhat distraught.
Nala, our older dog, is more than capable of holding her own, this kind of hunt is in her blood, and we could hear her barking and growling, and presumably attacking at frequent intervals, but there wasn't a sound from our young pup Pip, and when Nala came out of the tunnel, covered in blood, and Pip didn't follow, we really started to panic.
By now I was on my hands and knees in 5" of stagnant muddy lake water, screaming into the mouth of the tunnel for Pip to come out. Nala went back in, and continued to bait the Ragondin, but still not even a squeak from Pip, if he was injured, we couldn't get to him, we couldn't even dig down because he was in a concrete tunnel which was buried 12 feet under ground.
I told Simon to stay there and ran like the clappers to the farmers house.
I arrived on his doorstep, covered from head to toe in stinking orange slime and mud, panting like a woman in the throes of a very painful labour, just as the Farmer and his workers were sitting down for lunch.
After explaining the problem in extremely poor french - something along the lines of "my dogs, in tunnel, ragondin attack, puppy is dead! (insert uncontrolable sobs here) please bring your dogs!" They politely informed me that their dog's were in fact not there, but kindly downed knives and forks, and followed me, guns in hand, back to the tunnel.
By this point, I really was convinced my puppy was dead. To make matters worse, as I arrived back I could hear the children's cries as the bastard goats ransacked the house in our absence, and saw Simon charging around the lake towards them, whilst the farmers and me ran towards the tunnel.
Nala was still going crazy inside the tunnel, Simon returned with a torch, and now I was howling like a banshee.
A little torch light revealed that the tunnel curved off at an angle, preventing us from seeing the action. All the while I was howling Pip's name.
I may not have mentioned before, that we named Pip before discovering what this word meant in French. Not long ago, some French friends of hours, informed us, with great amusement I should add, that Pip, is actually a French slang word for sex. I am sure you can imagine the look of surprise on the Farmer's faces, as I was lying down in the mud screaming SEX at the top of my voice into the tunnel, what a time to feel frisky!
Nala came out when called, and promptly went back in, then Simon saw Pip in the tunnel, covered head to toe in mud and dragging himself down the tunnel on his knees. Hope was restored, he might be injured but he was alive! After a few minutes he was dragged to safety, he was so covered in mud that we couldn't see if he was hurt or not, I held him against me and ran back to the house with him as fast as my very out of shape legs could carry me.
I put him straight under the shower, and was relieved to find there wasn't a scratch on his body, he was just very shaken up and cold.
Meanwhile, now that the pup was safe, Simon was trying to call Nala out of the tunnel, whilst the farmers, rather enjoying the action, egged her on to kill the Ragondin by screaming ATTACK! ATTACK! into the tunnel at regular intervals, Nala, always being one to follow orders, politely obliged and came out a few moments later, bit the farmer, presumably as a warning not to bellow at her like that again, then trotted back to the house.
The goats had a whale of a time during all this commotion, having burst into the house and attacked the fruit bowl, sending all manner of objects crashing to the floor whilst the children looked on helplessly.
So now we were faced with our muddy selves, two very muddy hounds, a floor littered with two dozen half eaten apples and pears and broken glass everywhere. Needless to say, my peaceful morning was somewhat shattered. The clock struck two, it was time for the children to go to their party, oh joy.
Peace was soon restored, we were all treated to a warm shower, dogs included, muddied clothes thrown in the washing machine and the children ferried off to their party, albeit a little late. Nala had a few minor cuts to her face and ears, one particularly nasty bite that punctured her cheek, but is otherwise safe and sound and looking rather smug that she at least won the battle.
I popped round to the farmers later in the evening to give them a bottle of scotch, by way of an apology for interrupting their lunch, they were already quite merry from their evening aperatif, and said how impressed they were with our Ragondin Killing hound, eager to learn where they could acquire one of these fearless little dogs, they also commented on the pup's rather charming name.
After parting with the scotch and receiving a handful of chocolates for the children in return, I made my way back home and promptly collapsed on the sofa.
Forgive me for not doing my Blog Love post today, I simply haven't got the energy.
I will leave you with some of the photos I took, there are more in my Flickr for anyone who might be interested to see just how crap my photography skills are :)
The lake
Trying to achieve "depth of field"....
I wonder who lives here?
