Confessions of a serial mower - an earth moving experience!

Just a short blog to show you mousie in CSI Suffolk mode on her "suzy white sofa" to prove she can compete on that level and the duck family, who are now getting rather too tame and mousie wonders how she will keep her white sofa clean, should they all start paddling around the house!

Saturday man is here of course and as I am still under apprenticeship, I have to go out with him today. He wants to cut back some overgrown hedges and will re-edge some of the borders. We are trying to make the garden less labour intensive and more pleasureable (more earth moving then!!). GOH has gone to the office this morning so I have first call on said Mellors, before he comes home with his little "just do" list.

The pheasants, which come to my house to feed, are of course paying me back by pecking of the emerging seedlings so we going to make little wire netting cloches to protect what we can. They have been eyeing up the tiny asparagus spears - you know, the "do not pick for three years" little babies! Country living, a constant battle!

oheas

Confessions of a serial mower - farming matters

Suffolkmum, that very expressive writer we all know and love (well I feel I know her) wrote yesterday about belonging and the place of birth.
I realise that I am very very lucky. I have been able, via marriage, to afford to stay in the county of my choice – on a farm in a village a mere 3 miles from the home of my birth. Not unusual in Suffolk, but very unusual I now realize in this day and age. You have to remember in Suffolk families, it’s the boys “wat gits” the farm!.- or certainly in our family. Primogeniture, thus it was ever so. I am the elder child, he is the son.
Offspring float off to university, year-outs and travel the world sprees, and end up all over the globe, many never to return. It was not always so.
I come from generations of farmers from East Anglia, my roots going back to 1066 and all that. My brother and I, we fear, will be the last of this clan who wish and can afford to farm.
We are asset rich and cash poor, as I have heard mention here before. The next generation do not seem to have that same sense of belonging, or wishing to cling on to the old farmstead at whatever cost, which we do.
My niece wishes to do law, and my nephew is a great sportsman, neither, barring an interest in a horse, particularly love or feel the need to keep the farm that we do. When we go, so does said family farm I imagine.
On the other hand, GOH and my stepsons adore our little farm, bought with hard earned and long saved cash, and would do anything to keep it, yet they are born townsfolk.
Ironic or what!
My father’s father, and his father before, and even my grandmother’s family all farmed nearby. My father went off to war at 17, fought in Europe, Monte Cassino and other such blood baths, and came back to the farm. He came back a sick and injured man, but has survived through nurture and nature and still farms at the age of 83.
His whole life is the farm, his world is the farm, his very being the farm. He drives me to distraction as you can imagine but I have to admire and stand in awe of this man. I know I have much of him in me, loath as I am to admit it. Our love of all things country.
Sod’s Law decreed that the one person that perhaps could have passed on the farming gene, couldn’t have children. Yours truly. Perhaps, God willing and a fair wind my inherited sons, and maybe even The Heiress will go on to keep our own little farming empire going. It’s the one thing they don’t make any more of, land.

We may yet win the war.

Confessions of a serial mower - in the pink

Now folks - I do own lots of shoes - it is a habit/hobby of mine - Votes please for the pair to kick Suzy up the backside with if I go head to head!!! I am a size 4 please note - if you have a better pair!!

On a country theme because we dont want to be flippant on a day like today, note the striped lawns and the pheasant on the left in shadow - christ but this mouse is good!!!!!!!!!!

Confessions of a serial mower

I have pasted below the article in the Press Gazette for you all to look at.
By Colin CrummyWednesday, 25 April 2007
The usually tranquil world of Country Living magazine has been hit by an online furore over its handling of a competition to find a new columnist.
When it was launched, the competition asked fellow website users to vote for their favourite blogger, who would then become the Natmags magazine's newest recruit.
But midway through the competition, editor Susy Smith changed the rules so that the final decision was down to the Country Living editorial team – a move which has prompted outrage on the site's forums.
Forum posters have accused the magazine of lying, misleading and changing the rules of the competition and claim that the three finalists chosen by the magazine were not prolific bloggers, nor had they blogged for a long time on the site.
A typical response to the rule change, from forum poster "Countrymousie", said: "I have never come across anything so unprofessional – many people took the competition very seriously, and they are very hurt."
A number of posters have threatened to leave the forums and boycott the magazine.
Many bloggers were surprised that the magazine announced its rule change in a forum post by Smith, midway through a thread. In an announcement on the forums after posters expressed their outrage, Smith defended her decision to intervene, saying that she was only doing so in response to posters complaining that they did not have the time to read all the blogs and then vote.
Smith told Press Gazette: "We asked the online community to vote for their favourite blog. However a discussion in the chatroom made it clear our readers felt uncomfortable with the vote. We responded directly to their concerns and agreed the editorial team would select the winner."
Forum posters argued there should have been a formal statement as to the rules, and accused the magazine of "unprofessionalism".
In her response on the website, Smith said: "We are very much on a learning curve with the website and hopefully will get better at it as we go along."
She defended the choice of finalists, who despite only posting a small number of times demonstrated "quality over quantity" and "showed real potential".
She added: "As editor, I am ultimately responsible for the content of the magazine. My job is to select content that as much as possible meets the wider expectations of all of our readers.
Occasionally this disappoints a few, but predominantly this pleases the majority of our very loyal readership."
For more in-depth analysis and comment on stories like this one, subscribe to Press Gazette's print edition or digital edition
Copyright © 2007 Wilmington Media Ltd. All Rights Reserved.

This is mousie reclining with a bi-plane over her head. Read on:
It’s not all “plough the fields and scatter” around our village at the moment.
It’s not what’s on the land that’s the problem but what is above it.
There is a very contentious issue here to do with a small private air strip. It belongs
to a local elderly farmer, well past his loop the loop days. It is a mere couple of miles as the crow flies from my dad’s farm. “He Can’t hear nowt. He doesn’t know what all the fuss is about. New folks coming in, sticking their oars in”.
I was somewhat taken aback the other day on my rounds of Parish Magazine drop to the small hamlet where my dad and a handful of people reside. Posters has been strategically
placed proclaiming “STOP AIRPORT EXPANSION NOW”!! Now Stanstead is about a 90 minute drive away so I was rather startled.
It turns out that said elderly farmer has leased out his little landing strip to a Flying School where one can train and “keep one’s hours up” etc. They surreptitiously took on
the site in 2004 and have gradually, but not quietly, been increasing the flying hours.
When I was little and flying farmer was a young man, he only took to the skies about once a week if that. We would run up the meadow to watch him - this would be in the 1960’s and I knew no one else with their own plane. It was as treat, a thrill, a novelty.
Before the days of Health and Safety and huge insurance premiums, at the village fete he
would “do rides” so we could stare down and look at the farm, the river, the horses, the cattle, our school and the fete, but never so low as to see the mice!
How things have changed. It appears that flying farmer had planning permission for 250
air movements a year; take off and landing being two movements. He, of course, never came anywhere near exceeding that total. One or two in later years flew their microlights from there.
The nubies of the surrounding villages have been sitting in their gardens counting air movements, counting them out and counting them in. In the past year there have been, according to the plane police, 1200 movements. Some have bought rather large expensive
homes not knowing that lurking down the road and behind the farm was an airfield.
Totally innocuous, benign until the weekends.
The huge windsock that can be seen from miles away could have given a bit of a clue.
But there, that’s it in a nutshell. Deaf dad can’t hear them and isn’t bothered and to be fair, the planes seem to take off in a totally different direction to his. The Boden Bunnies, the weekenders, and I imagine they are in the majority, want it stopped. So action is being taken, meetings are being held in village halls and petitions rattled round.
Now I happen to know that the head honcho of a very major department store has bought himself a weekend farm (yes you heard right) almost adjoining the airfield.
Why, one asks?
I read his profile the other day in the financial papers; hobbies included the countryside and piloting his own private plane.
Not sure which way this one is going to go, but will keep you all posted.
Aircraft noise is a huge pernicious problem now in the countryside and something like this development, which brings a bit of work into a small village, is a tough call.
As I walk out to shut up the buildings and check the locks, I look up to my black but starlit Suffolk sky, I see amongst the celestial wonders, several twinkling lights of planes several thousands of feet up – silence for me but not for everyone.

Now the helicopters from RAF Wattisham, now that's a whole new ball game. One to be discussed later, plus the new stacking systems out of Stanstead and Luton - the worry of it all here in Suffolk. No longer sleepy or sleeping.

Confessions of a serial mower - back to normal

Almost back to normal here at CSI Suffolk.

Have sent off to various concerned parties, relevant information. Say no more!!

I have come back from the final leaflet drop with severe garden envy. By volunteering to do this it has allowed me access to private gardens I would not normally have the chance to see. We have one or two Lords and Ladies in the adjoining village and they come compete with compliment of gardeners and handimen. Today I saw greenhouses to make your eyes water - straight out of magazines (not that one obviously) painted in farrow and ball with little brick plinths, potting sheds complete with potters, clipped yew hedges, matching teak tables and chairs, swimming pools, tennis courts, even - get this - a private rugby pitch. One of the "new money" as they are called hereabouts has bought himself a piece of a field and has the whole kit and caboodle complete with posts, the lot. It has been an eye-popping experience.

And, worst of all, I have been out-striped in the lawn department. The lawn was real, I got down and touched it - it was spectacular - I think they cut it with a ruler. It was perfect.

The air was heady this morning with rape, wisteria and lilac. I adore lilac - I used to cut it and bring it into the house, but then someone told me it brings bad luck. Why is this do you think?

Answers on a postcard but there will be no prizes - you are all winners here.

No "we will gather lilac in the spring again" here. Bad luck in Suffolk.

Been home an hour and had a quick nip round with my own mower, blossom is all over my stripes and I have had to "hoover" her up and have a tidy round. The envy has passed.

Mummy duck has brought her babies for me to feed - she still has all twelve so I think we may

have struck lucky. By feeding them regularly she has not "dragged" them round the various ponds which always exhausts them and several usually get lost en route.

I am doing some potting up this afternoon of geraniums etc, but its far too early here to put them out. I noticed this morning that folks had been seduced by the sun, and several tender plants were out on steps - I only hope they all get taken back in again at night.

Rather a poor excuse for a blog today, but some days are like that. We are just too busy living to blog.

I have included a picture of my rather small wisteria which is on the front of the house to set the mood for you.

Confessions of a serial mower

Mousie has collapsed with all the excitement, confusion and legal wrangling
and I am just testing links and things. This is not a blog - it is a mouse tail.

Confessions of a serial mower - copy from chat page

I now appear to be the only one without an avatar - I just cant get it to work. I have uploaded this again - it wont stick with me as it were.
On a serous note and you will all go OH NO, what now. In my investigations into "CLgate" as I will now call it, I have been asked by my legal eagle - "is there any possibility that Darkhorse, Alywicks or Harmonie" is the alter ego of one of us. Was there a condition of the entry - only one entry per person. I as you know have ditched the mag. If not, this could be another name for a contributor. CL has all the real names and addresses of us when we registered so they will know. Indeed it could be, in which case they then know the other facets of that writer - and chose accordingly - are you with me. It will all come out in the wash unless they are allowed to keep their anonymity. Their silence is deafening and could speak volumes if you get my drift. So if you are she, he or whatever, as they say in church "speak now or forever hold they peace". Before we get entrenched too far. The Telegraph ran a "rip off" article today - and this could be a good place to start when firing off letters to their letter page.
Please dont shoot me, I am not darkhorse.

Confessions of a serial mower - back to normal

Just a finishing blog to show you my duck and babies - still going strong. Another busy day on the site. Managed to do the roast and a man has been round to inspect the cesspit and to talk about the new all singing, all dancing filtration plant. Things may well be looking up here afterall. Have found a Nutritional Therapist who is going to help me with this new diet and figure out my supplements etc to help me deal with the lack of food choice. She runs a clinic only a few miles away and is an expert on food intolerances. I will take my "poo" printout for her perusal! She sounded quite excited when I told her. It takes all sorts!!

Lots of lovely blog sites out there and I am still of course playing with mine. I only repainted twice today I think! See you all on Tuesday.

Almost back to normal; settling in here well I think. My site is coming along, just a tad more tweaking and adjusting of colours - I may have to get Farrow and Ball in if my suffolk pinks don't match but we will see. Thank you for all your nice comments and welcomes and the whole thing has become somewhat of a blur, I can't remember what I have told you and what I have left behind at "death valley" as I now call it on the other side. I did a couple of parting shots over there during the weekend, and so many people switched off the lights when they left and kicked over the patio heaters, I think they are working by tilley lamps and candles. I reckon they are huddled over a bonfire in the car park using the huge pile of unsold magazines and subscription forms as fuel. Still, its recycling so quite green really - and they will have their ugg boots to keep them warm. Enough already as they say over the pond......

I am only disappointed we didn't all use a special 0845 number to phone them with our competition entries and we could have had them for that as well, aka GMTV fiasco this morning.
Have been out and about locally this morning; doing the leaflet drop for a local representative in the forthcoming elections - "no I am not standing", "yes it is a nice day"; I think the world and his wife work from home now - everyone wanted to chat and I just wanted to find the letter box, avoid questionable dogs, and move on. Once upon a time I could drop 100 leaflets and not see a soul. I have only done a quarter of my list - you are supplied with a list of homes to cover - and there is not long to go. The poor man who normally does this particular route has got colon cancer and has the huge op tomorrow. There are fewer of the stalwarts in villages left to do this type of thing. I realise that I am becoming one of these - my yummy mummy days are coming to an end and I have become (in my head) groovy grandma instead. Its a shocker.
Then on to the butchers; have I told you about him; totally testosterone charged is our butcher, he would fit in well here - he is always having, in his words, a"purple patch" with regard to the ladies. He quite lifted my mood with his "chat" and I can thoroughly recommend him girls if you feel in need of a boast. I, of course, spent another fortune there. He sure has the gift of the gab, and it is paying dividends by the look of his cute little Merc sports parked beside the shop.

Then on to the seed merchants/mill to pick up some duckling crumbs for my new little babies - I have kept them going with bread so far but feel they need more. I have rigged up a little cage for them to feed under (old freezer basket) as the crows keep swooping on them.
I still have all twelve.
Now back and its the kitchen that calls - I have to make amends for doing bu**er all this weekend except play on here. I think roast pork might be in order. And Pink champagne.

Confessions of a serial mower - in pink fluffiness

Well what a morning - couldnt sleep so got up t0 peek at you all. Had a e-mail from cowgirl to say she is lost in cyber space but feels she may be with us shortly after a sleep.

GOH was trawling the classic car websites last night - well thats what he said - and has gone off to Wimbledon - yes on the day of the marathon - to view a car. We had words, but he has gone anyway. I have a lot of influence as you can imagine. He has two arms and legs like everyone else so how many cars can a man keep in a shed. He used to be a partner in a classic car garage in another life and wife ago!!
I am his third wife did I tell you this - bit of a star my old man - he has calmed down these days and I have been his Mrs for some 23 years - a record for him. I will tell you all more when I know you better and I am more settled in this my new home. I am glad now that I didnt tell all at the other place and then they might have stolen even more of my tales. [tails - mice!!]Anyway, we went for a walk over the fields to check on the sugar beet before he left, they are all up in rows like little soldiers, and as custom has it here in Suffolk they need to be touching across the rows by the Sufiolk Show - around 1/2nd June, to be a good crop. They have a hell of a way to go as we have had so little rain. Maybe Tuesday so the weatherman says.

Well I will go back into the chat site here, I like to think of it as wine, woman and song.
I think I have now got to grips. We shall see.