Carrots and Kids

On My Windowsill.....{February}

Quite often I feel my life is just one big...chaotic mess. House renovations still ongoing, seven people living in a smallish place - ugh, it all feels too much quite often.

But there is one spot I have complete and utter control over and (this is sad, I know) it's my windowsill. I've spoken about it before. It's the only place I can have a nature table type of arrangement. I would love to have a proper nature table in my hall, or perhaps in the family room. One day....

So far the Nature Sill has undergone two changes, and now we have the third. Even though we "don't do" Valentine's Day I still received this wonderful bunch of tulips. So much nicer than roses I think.

Now I'm wondering what I shall be displaying on my windowsill next month....Do you have a nature table or a special spot in your home for nature finds?

~ Fresh ~

I can't believe we are nearly at the end of January. Sometimes I feel as if I'm sleepwalking through my life which, as we all know, is not a Good Thing.

There is so much I have to do too. Boring but essential stuff which I am, of course, failing to get to grips with. And before you know it, it will be time to sow seeds in earnest.

So really, I have to get my act together. One small, non-essential thing I have managed to do is to freshen up my Nature Window Sill.

Everything was looking a bit withered so I binned most of it and re-potted some hyacinth bulbs I bought in a sale into chipped mugs I couldn't bear to throw out (not because I was attached to them but because it seemed so wasteful, even though I didn't want to drink from them).

Next Christmas (I think I may have my priorities a bit skew-whiff) I aim to buy some non-chipped mugs from a charity shop and plant them up with a hyacinth bulb as presents for friends and teachers. Oh my generosity knows no bounds.

Really, though, I'm hoping my new, fresh nature window sill will rejuvenate my desire to spring clean.

Halloween at the Plot

For all the years I've had an allotment it has never occurred to me to take our spooky celebrations up there. Every year I do, if I do say so myself, a cool party involving goblin bogies, witch eyes and warlocks tongues. Y'know, the usual.

This year is one of those rare ones where I haven't. The last time I dipped out of organising a party I had five months before just had my fifth baby and it was all Too Much. Yesterday we were invited to other things.

But partied we did, up at the allotment, on Friday thanks to one of the allotmeenteers who had previously instigated a pumpkin growing competition.

I'd like to tell you that ours romped to victory, so heavy was it the scales nearly broke. But I can't lie and it didn't romp anywhere. More like slumped into a soggy mess on my doorstep as I tried to pick it up by the stalk.

Unperturbed, I scooped the mess up into a bag and trotted off up to the site with a couple of surly kids, one incredibly tired one (gotta love sleepovers), a pumpkin fairy (oh yes, they do exist) and a scary, witchy-looking dragon.

It was lovely. My fellow veggie grower had gone to a lot of effort with balloons, a proper carved pumpkin, refreshments, fun and games.

There was even a pumpkin weigh-in, which I'm not going to discuss any more because it's all a bit boring. Y'know, just a big ole orange thing sat on some bathroom scales not doing anything. Yeah, boring. What did my gloopy mess weigh? Well, I don't think the scales could be working because it didn't register. I know, can you believe it?!

The glamorous witch organiser thinks she may have grown the wrong variety because all four families involved had pumpkins that were sludge by Halloween, if they grew at all.

So I have a year to read up on how to grow a whopper and shall, I think, have one in reserve at home. Not because I'm competitive you understand, but it would be lovely to carve my own. Like Rhiannon has done. No, I don't know how she did it either.

If you have any pumpkin growing tips, I'd be delighted if you'd divulge in the comments just for my research purposes. Thank you.

Cow Parsley Passion

I love going for walks. I admit I haven't always loved it. I go with my camera and don't walk fast so it's probably not going to get me fitter and thinner. Walking in autumn is the best. VP has a wonderful autumnal post and I should've added "autumnal walks" to my comment.

While I photograph anything and everything there is one particular thing that I find, when I upload my pics, that I have snapped more than any other and that's cow parsley. It's wonderful and frothy during the spring and sculptural in autumn.

 

On the school run there was a giant one that I was desperate to photograph but it would be a tricky place to stop and goodness knows what all the villagers would think of me as they zoomed past. Maybe next year...

My Autumnal Shrine Is Finished

This project has filled me with such joy. Such a simple thing to do and I just don't know why it never occurred to me to do it sooner.

I admit to feeling a little shy at showing you. It probably would have been better if we hadn't seen those gorgeous Country Living pictures but without them there probably wouldn't be this.

Still, it wasn't easy to photograph. And while it did motivate me to finally gloss the windowsill, it obviously hasn't done much on the cleaning the window front. Not to worry, I always want to be authentic and honest. And now you can see I'm forgetful and lazy too. Window cleaning doesn't really register (well, not until I take a photo...).

I have been busy collecting and rearranging and tinkering. I love tinkering just like I love pottering. I've also been haunting the many charity shops in my nearest town for little bowls and bits.

I'm not really a charity shop person. Well, I collect rose tea cups and saucers. But the rest? Nah. Not until now. Now I'm quite addicted. I bought the wooden bowl holding the mini pumpkins, the little owl (my favourite find) and the greeny/blue vase for the acorns. Oh and the green glass dish holding the conkers.

There is also going to be a cyclamen in a pot (a nice deep red one) and anything else that I fancy. Like I said, I really, really love this. I'm planning to make a rose hip garland and one out of gorgeous leaves. And if you're looking for more ideas for what to do with those pocketfuls of conkers we all seem to bring home (who can resist?) check out this idea.

I've always wanted a nature table but ours isn't a nature table sort of home. It may not be but it's definitely a nature windowsill sort of home.

Orange, Time and Guilt

I am getting used to this new phase of life I'm entering. Sort of. A bit. There are, however, still moments of stress and busyness.

Yesterday from 1.30pm it was pick up one child, pick up another child, drop first one off, go somewhere, pick up first child, pick up another child, pick up another child, pick up someone else's child, grab something for tea, go home, look for another child and so it goes.

But there are now longer, more regular moments of calm in between the manic. I am without a small person for longer stretches. It's been a while. About 13 years.

This morning I treated myself. I went for a walk. I went for a walk somewhere new. I got a bit lost. I took my camera. I wore the wrong shoes. I lugged a heavy bag with me (for what I have no idea). And all the while I fretted. This is so indulgent. I should be doing the dishwasher/laundry/cleaning bathrooms/writing.

 

It did spoil it a bit. Well, more than a bit. It is something I am working on. I am working on ditching the guilt. And it would appear I have plenty to feel guilty about (not least Allotment Neglecting in spirit if not in body).

I'm not sure having your child not go to childminders or after school clubs or playschemes is anything much. I'm not sure knowing that a smoothie, mini cookies and a pink yoghurt every day in the lunchbox is important. I'm not sure constantly Doing and Being and Success is not necessary. I'm not sure being around, grumpily perhaps, in the background, constantly is wonderful. I'm not sure helping others for absolutely no benefit to yourself but for the simple reason that you can and someone should is worthwhile. I am, you might have guessed, a little unsure right now.

I didn't want to spend my time in the garden or allotment. Sometimes that can seem full of "should's". My walk was rejuvenating, refreshing. I marvelled at the autumn colours. How the cows matched them. How I love living at the foot of the South Downs. How lucky I am.

So I'm proclaiming it loud and proud: I love orange, having more free time and I refuse to feel guilty any longer. I think.

:: Edited to add :: I will show you my new Autumnal Windowsill Shrine next time. I'm just feeling a little...shy about it.

Gardeners Aren't Nature-Blind

Middle age has crept up on me and got me in a vice-like grip. I cut recipes out of papers, can't go far without knowing where I'll get a decent cup of coffee and I read snippets out of the paper to my disinterested audience (usually the three-year-old).

Although I haven't got so far as to actually post an article to someone, I figure this is the next best thing - posting it here. And y'know, I've just got to. I was so taken with this teeny article, ostensibly about winners of a photographic competition, that I wanted to share.

The British Wildlife Photographer of the Year has been chosen (won for a wonderful picture of a silhouetted damselfly that is breathtaking) but the author, Simon Barnes, talks about how looking at nature closely, like in these photos, can change the way you look at the world and, I'd imagine, life.

"Once you have been cured of nature-blindness - once you have become nature-sighted - then you really do become incapable of seeing things in the same way again," he wrote.

And I thought, well gardeners are totally nature-sighted. It's a gift I feel sowing seeds, and nurturing them so they in turn nurture me, has been given to me.  And it's one that was totally unexpected.

I feel so much more in tune with the seasons, and really revel and enjoy those couple of weeks when you sense the seasons change, when there's a difference in the air.

And it's something that's new to me. Obviously I noticed the seasons before I got into gardening but I notice it so much more now, more deeply, more sensitively. And I think having a camera within fingertip distance much of the time probably helps with that too.

"And this sense of delight is not a secret: it is something that the nature-sighted long to share: Look! Look! Here is wonder and beauty and truth, if you but knew it!" writes Barnes.

And that's exactly how I, and no doubt everyone who gardens, feels too.

The Day that Summer Died

Bit of a dramatic title, the Day that Summer Died, but I am feeling quite dramatic. A bit flouncy. And huffy. And ~ ugh ~ for no good real reason. (Except, maybe, having a three-day headache can make a person feel a bit...stroppy.) It's the title of this poem, which contains:

They did not come in funeral black

But every mourner chose

Gorgeous colours or soft shades

Of russet, yellow, rose - (Vernon Scannell)

Everything's bittersweet. The end of the school holidays, Autumn beckoning. Even though summer is nearly over (I reckon we'll get one last gasp later this month), I do love this time of year. Not least because it is the time of year we stood up and told everyone, yeah, this is for life.

The sunflowers in my garden mimic those in my bouquet. There are a lot of things I'd change about that day 14 years ago, lots but two things remain constant - the man and the flowers.

Sunshine and Showers

In the great tradition of being a Super Organised Mum I realised this morning at 7am that it was the end of the pre-school term and for my youngest daughter, the end of pre-school. Sniff.

While stirring my first cuppa of the day, it also occurred to me that I wanted to give the staff a thank you present, in that other great tradition. Except I hadn't bought or organised or thought about any.

And so 7.10am saw me dodging the rain in my pyjamas to find my red geraniums in the lovely terracotta pots so admired by Matron and Martyn on this post here. I admit I didn't have the heart to sell them recently. Really, what would I have got at a cheap and cheerful school plant sale - £1.50?

But giving them away as presents, with lots of love and gratitude, now that was a different matter. So a ribbon was duly tied around them, with a tag for the recipient, signed by my little one. There were six to give away in total. Goodness, how generous am I?

They were well received (one person even commented how she "loved the pot"). So that was a teacher present that ticked all the boxes for me - cheap (in this case nothing), different to the usual soap/candles/chocolates and appreciated.

There was also the card to make. Thankfully my daughter is a prolific artist so there were plenty of beautiful, colourful pictures to choose from. We decided upon one that showed a rainbow and, of course, flowers.

Obviously you need sunshine and showers for the rainbow, which felt particularly fitting on this very showery day and matched my mood perfectly - happy and a little bit sad at the same time.

Goodbye April