Good Morning

Clouds 13.07 (1)

I was getting a bit lazy this week in the afternoon and not really going anywhere: just relaxing on the porch in the shade with the computer. Yesterday I pulled myself together and went for a wheelie. Another problem was that my midday sleeps were becoming longer and by the time I stopped hugging the bed it was too late to go anywhere in the afternoon. I must admit even yesterday was a shorter trip.  I actually wanted to go into town, but turned around half way there and did the usual castle and farm tour. I noticed that even life in the country tends to take a pause in summer. It is really too hot for the animals. The only ones I see are the chickens

Chickens 13.07.2018

and even they tend to try for shadier places, all fighting for a place next to the wheel of their house

Goats 13.07 (1)

or perhaps in the shade of a goat who keeps a watchful eye on their antics and ensures that the fox does not get a chicken dinner.

Harvester 13.07 (13)

Just as I rounded the corner to the back gates of the castle I heard a noise and saw a cloud of dust surrounded the harvester. It was time at last to mow the crops on the fields. For me being a child of London town, I only saw my first wheat crops at the age of 8 when we were on holiday  on the english Kent coast. I remember I was fascinated. Mum did not know what they were, but dad did and confirmed that this was real wheat. I know it might sound strange, but I really grew up with the smell of damp concrete in the town. The only nature I saw were the weeds growing wild on the bombed out sites of old house ruins left from the war.  The war ended in 1945, but it was not until the late 1950’s when the Brits began to clear away the rubble and build the high rise blocks in their place.  The face of London had began to change, they just forgot our little street with the outside toilets in the garden and no central heating or running hot water until the seventies when they eventually demolished it all. I was then already married and settled in Switzerland.

Crows 13.07 (2)

So back to the harvester, after my digression. This is what the farmer left behind and probably today it will be gathered together and stored for cow winter food. The crows were the first to arrive to see if there were any pickings left for them.

I took many photos and may  be writing something some time. I have a few projects in mind actually, just have to get round to writing them. Yesterday was a nice relaxing evening as Mr. Swiss and I have realised that food has become a side dish to our life.  We eat to live and there are only the two of us at the moment. Yesterday evening it was a frozen pizza that Mr. Swiss cooked and I ate outside with the accompaniment of uploading photos to my computer.

Yesterday evening the sky was clouded over with dark clouds and I really thought it might rain to save watering the garden this morning, but no deal with the weather gods, so I will now leave you to spray the garden with its morning water. The lawn is looking perhaps a little better, it seems there is an underground threat from the cockchafer grubs that are merrily chomping their way through the grass roots. Yesterday the lady called us from the gardener who is the expert. Apart from spraying the garden with poison and leaving it for two weeks to develop or infecting it with some sort of mould which kills the little beasts slowly, but very slowly, there is not much we can do but just hope one day they will go away. Our cat is not keen on the poison solution. We have always had cockchafer grubs from our June beetles, but never such a problem. Seems to be one of those summers. At least the ugly squirmy little beasts stay out of sight.

It’s Saturday, so a day of doing nothing in particular, but I am sure to find something. Enjoy whatever you are doing today and if you are doing nothing, that is also good. I did discover a gladiola yesterday on my wheelie for a photo.

Gladiola 13.07.2018

10 thoughts on “Good Morning

  1. Oh yes, please don’t go with the poison ‘solution’, as it isn’t. There is always something going into the groundwater or else mucking up our earth….

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I grew up in the city, but it was a very countrified piece of the city, as if the city grew around it and somehow, left that spot alone. It was hard to explain to kids who didn’t live there because it really WAS the middle of New York. Of course, it’s gone now. When we sold our houses as our parents got old and we all moved on, the city moved in and those big old houses and the trees and the little mini farms were gone in a blink.

    I’ve lived in the city of Jerusalem — which while (at that time) was a small city, it was definitely a CITY and where you smelled damp pavement, in Jerusalem is was wet stone. Then I lived in Boston, on the 17th floor of a tower overlooking the Charles River. I loved the view, but I really wanted a house. With a yard. And a garden. We moved to a townhouse, still in Boston and that was good too. A tiny garden, smaller than yours, but pretty anyway and a little deck for plants.

    And finally, back here, to the country. But this time, real country. Cows and horses and chickens and coyotes and eagles and hawks. You’ve got those amazing mountains. We’ve got the Blackstone River and its 46 dams. I don’t think you could pay me enough to go back to the city, even though it is more convenient for older people than living out here. I would miss the trees.

    And those chickens!

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    • I lived in Zürich for two years on my own before moving to Solothurnland where I am now. After a spell in town Mr. Swiss and I moved out to the country, just the next village along the road, and we have never been so content. He grew up in the country half way up a mountain in a small village, his father was a sort of meat farmer, supplying all the butchers shops with meat, so he knew all about cows and country life. Both of us are not vegetarians, but we have feelings for what we eat – if that would make sense.
      I could never again live in a town. Even when I lived in London I always liked to get out into the parks and the green bits.

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      • It is impossible to believe that the region I grew up in was still suburban in the early 1970s. It was in that little bit of suburbia between Los Gatos and San Jose, with apricot and prune orchards. The big boulevards were little roads that connected the separate communities. My parents lived there because it was relatively affordable. That is how I remember the Santa Clara Valley. It really was we all say it was.

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        • It seems a great place to live. Our village was once a collection of a few farms, and then a few wealthy industrialists built their villas here. That reduced the local tax bills and a few apartment blocks have been built, but luckily there are laws to stop too much building that could interfere with the green areas

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          • It still is a great place to live for those who can afford it. Sadly, I am not one of those people who can afford it. My ancestors had been here for many generations, but there are not of us left.

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  3. By the way, we had a major grub infestation in our front yard. One day, a flock of robins landed on the lawn. Then they got on their cellphones and called all their aunts, uncles, and cousins and for a week, we had a yard of fat happy robins. They ate every single grub. It was amazing. I swear they could hear them moving underground. When the robins left, not a grub remained.

    Call the birds!

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    • Funny you say that. I spotted a blackbird i my garden yesterday, and it was the first since Winter as they usually only come for food in Winter. Perhaps she was having a forage and the rest will arrive, I hope so.

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