Stirring It

The 100-400 mm 'pap' lens I use for the moon close-ups
and some of the wildlife pics.

A short-ish post, this one and another where the photo's bear little relevance to the main story. When you know what that is about you will understand, I am sure. The pics in this one are some of these final '365' project shots saved from the dying embers of the 'year'. There are also a few 'snow scenes' from the rather pathetic flurries of wet sleety snow that we have had over the last day or so. Who can resist a Christmas Card scene after all?

Candle Snuff fungus growing in our front lawn.

My "Stirring It" title comes from the main task today. In my youth, our family in-jokes and clichés frequently had us accused of "stirring it" and family members were occasionally awarded the 'wooden spoon' for stirring above and beyond the call of duty. The job, which I volunteered for before I knew the detail of what was involved was to help a friend re-start a fancy septic tank system which had become a problem.

One of our favourite Irish cookery books, Theodora Firzgibbon

Our septic tank here is the basic one, a single tank where digestion happens (if you're lucky and you don't put too much bleach down it!) followed by a big pit filled with broken stone and beach pebbles which drains away sideways into the half acre field as a whole. This one today was a much more fancy affair; a real eco-bio-digester arrangement with 3 formal chambers and then the stone-filled pit but followed by 3 beds which take and use the nutritious clean 'water' outflow.

The first beer that came to hand as I came in from the snow
and North wind; Shepherd Neame's 'Summer Sizzler'

The first is yellow flag irises, the 2nd tall bull rushes and the 3rd is willow which, I am told. puts up 20 feet regrowth every year and which they can harvest for making hurdles, wicker work or even, if they wanted to shred it, bio-mass for solid fuel fired heating.

First snow flurries.

Their problem was that after a particularly warm and busy weekend in August (lots of guests leaving...um...deposits), the digestion process in Tank #1 had been over-whelmed and the solids were now acting as a dam. We needed to re-mix this crusty mass and get everything gently flowing again in a down-hill manner. Ah well, in for a penny, as they say. We had to ignore the fact that the first snow of 2017 was all over the ground. I had made it there after all. These guys live up on what is called an 'upland bog' here. They are at the top of a mini mountain but that does not result in the good drainage you would expect. Their land is basically bog or forestry with only a few acres round the house 'improved' to grassland or hard standing.

The full moon sinks towards the snowy
ground

To cut a long story short, an hour or so of stirring and scraping the deposits off the sides of the tank had it all chopped up and converted back into a flow-able "slurry" which we could now see was starting to move downhill to the next tank and the lady suggested we wash our hands and come indoors for warm sausage sandwiches. Job done. I wish they were all that easy.

Snow in the lane this morning

The snow had been forecast since Tuesday and I was yearning for it like a child. This not because I wanted to rush out and start a snowball fight with the neighbour's children or build a snowman, but for the '365' picture potential. I am almost at the end of the year of photography now and seriously short of inspiration on what to submit for 'today's three photo's'. There are only so many pictures of ruined barns, cute calves and pretty flowers that you can get away with and some Christmas Card snow would give me an easy ride for 24 hours.

Hey ho. Just like when you were a child, snow always seemed to let you down, flurrying down in disappointingly small quantities and failing to "stick" (we used to say "settle" in Hastings) no matter how many times you looked out of the window. Well, it is no different for 59 year old '365' photographers and I was not to get my Winter Wonderland. I had to try to make the most of the dusting and a convenient full moon.

I have to be careful what I wish for, of course. The year before we arrived here (so 2010/11) they had a brutal winter with temperatures down in the -10ºC area and 18 inches of white stuff. People were nipping off to the village PO in tractors because there is no gritting or snow ploughing round here. You just have to stock up on supplies, shovel your drive (and the neighbour's) clear and wait for the to-ing and fro-ing of farm vehicles to make the roads drive-able again when a thaw comes.

We don't want too much of that. I'd sooner do without the 365 snow scenes. Stay warm.

Draw a Line....

The black spruce (Picea mariana) around the 'Secret Garden"

We are determined to put the upsetting fox episode behind us now so here is an easy-on-the-eye post which contains no foxes or even fox tracks. The whole scene has been blanketed in picturesque white snow (all be it only a few inches) so that we can all think of Christmas card scenes and, (apologetically) using that management-speak baloney expression "we can draw a line under it and move on".

Rudbeckia stems.

Sorry if the snow scenes are a bit monochrome, gloomy and sunless, but I whizzed round early in the morning, sure that the sun would not come out to brighten things up before all this lot started melting and dripping off the trees and fencing. The forecast is, anyway, for a thaw and a return to wind and rain for tomorrow (We hope, also that the forecast weather for "the wedding" is accurate).

No digging in the veg plot today!

The best aspect by far of the snow is that you can see that we have definitely no fox tracks anywhere on the property. With the dogs also confirming no interesting scent when we are out patroling we are hoping the 'line' in my title is well drawn and written in permanent ink, though realistically we know we have not done for all the foxes in the townland.

No sitting around enjoying the view today, either...

Just one amusing story on the subject of guns if you will allow me. My complete (but short) gun history up till two nights ago. Don't worry. It involves only one pull of the trigger and no deaths. Or injury even. When we posted our fox problem on Facebook, several friends stepped up with helpful and sympathetic suggestions involving, obviously, shooting the fox and such lines as "how are you with a rifle? - a shot in the air might be enough".

Quite cute - the lamb's tiny hoof print (left) next to Mum's

Well, if people knew my gun history, they would not be letting me anywhere near a shot-gun licence, far less a rifle. Way back, probably 30-35 years ago I was involved in a farm by way of courting the main man's Sister in Law and he (Big Tim) agreed to take me out 'lamping' in a Land Rover with a bunch of other lads. We'd drive around his land looking for bunnies, then stop the Land Rover, shine a big lamp on them and take pot shots at them from standing up in the back of the Land Rover. Youthful high spirits but also controlling the rabbits which were at pest levels and decimating the growing corn down by some woods.

Dawn from the top of the allotment, looking east.

We pulled up then, by a hedge where there are a gazillion bunnies mooching about near a hedge and Big Tim hands me a .410 (small shot gun, a "four-ten"). The rabbits are so close that one is almost under the Land Rover's front bumper so I take careful aim and squeeze the trigger as instructed. I have no idea where the shot went but the target rabbit remains standing looking at me, a bit put out at the noise I'm making. I hear Tim's voice say "D'yer want me to git out and 'it 'im with a spade?" and then there are gales of laughter and everyone else trying not to fall out of the Land Rover, creased up laughing.

Tim took the gun back off me and 'sacked' me as a gunman. I was relegated to gate-man. I had to just get all the field gates for the LR. I think I can also remember being a bit uneasy about killing a rabbit and relieved at having missed and being sacked, but that might just be me putting a favourable gloss on it all. That episode was the last time I fired a gun and the last time I even saw one fired. I went back to being an animal lover and wildlife nut for 35 years till 2 days ago.

Improved shelter.

Meanwhile, back on January 13th and we need to start getting the lamb ready for proper out-door living, but we have snow here and wind and rain forecast. Mentor Anne who, with Simon, has built and lived in a proper house made of straw bales, might be proud of us - we decided to improve the makeshift shelter with straw bale walls and a floor of shaken out straw (rather than, admittedly dry, soil). My little trailer will take ten bales so we were off to the local hay/straw merchant; 2 for the pig ark, one for the existing sheep-bedroom (former feed store), one for the new shelter floor and 6 to play 'Lego' with. We may need more, but the shelter is already a lovely, warm dry place for a lamb and the Mum and Aunt to take shelter from the snow, wind and rain and, potentially, for an Aunt to become a Mum in when we get to 25th March?

Snow Geese.

And so I have probably done enough now to bury Brer Fox. The chap himself has been removed by Charlotte of the Mini Horses who does some kind of fancy dog-training using the scent of the dead animal to train her dogs in the ways of what to chase and what not to. She came to collect him last night and we had to nip round with a torch and find him where I'd laid him out to take his picture yesterday but, of course, 3 inches of snow was now blanketing the scene. Amusingly we could easily find him as he made a cartoon style, perfect fox-shaped mound in the flat grass; he even had pointy 'ears', 'eyes' and a 'mouth'; somehow the eyes and mouth must have been that bit wetter than the glossy fur, so the snow was melting on these features as it landed giving little darker pits in the snow and the flakes had built up on the pointy ears creating an exact copy in white. Snow-Fox has now gone too, then, with Brer Fox. RIP, the pair of you.

First Day in (Bee) School

Rain or shine, the dogs need walking

It has begun. Last night saw us off into the night of forecast rain and wintry showers, headed for Longford's "Teagasc" (pronounced "Chug-usk"; it is the training rooms and meeting centre laid on in the middle of town by the Irish Agriculture and Food Development Authority, a big concern here). This was for lesson one in our 'Bee School', actually a lecture on Bee Health given by our new friend Mary H of "The Two Marys". It was a big room and there were 15 or so of us in class, taking this Preliminary Certificate from the Federation Of Irish Bee Keepers' Associations (FIBKA) and the lecture was a Power-point style presentation (mercifully lacking in all the worst Power-point excesses of animations and zoomy graphics) with hand outs to save you having to write too many notes. We now know more about keeping your hive stress-free and healthy, promoting colony health and sorting out those diseases that do arise, than any two people should know who have not yet met their first colony.

I also got from Mary the two hive frame 'runners' we failed to bring away with us when we went to collect the flat packs, so that today I was able to finish my (empty) hive. In the 'any questions' section at the end we were also able to establish that, yes, rabbits are OK as a method of keeping the grass short around hives - the rabbits will not upset the bees and vice versa and also that yes, we can paint the whole thing (outside only) in gloss white. This as long as we check the paint tin first to check that it doesn't say 'harmful to insects'. We have six of these lectures at fortnightly intervals and some practical apiary sessions leading up to our exam in May which is part written and part practical at the hive. We will be experts before we even own a bee but that, I guess, is only right. They are vital livestock with an important role on the 'farm' and also potentially dangerous as well as possibly being involved in the production of food which you might want to sell to the general public.

You can see from these pictures that the advance of Spring took a bit of a back seat today and let winter have another go at painting the scenery white; a little bit Christmas Card. It had frozen overnight (which is always a welcome relief to me in the morning when I am doing my feed and release rounds - I am nipping round on ground as hard as putty and crunching over little ice patches which were formerly shallow puddles instead of slopping through the mud and wet). It started snowing at about 08:30 and then kept on all day doing light but impressive 'blizzards' which then gave way to sunny gaps which cleared up the preceding fall before the next. Bob was round this afternoon predicting a heavy fall tonight which will 'stick' but we'll wait and see on that one. Met Éireann have us getting the next anti-cyclone in the neck overnight, this one called 'Ruby', but they have been famous for their rain rather than snow. I have no idea how we got to 'Ruby'; I am sure the last two were Christine and Brigid.

In the pigs department, I have found and booked myself onto a pig rearing course down in Co. Tipperary in early April. We have also found a possible source of Tamworth piglets down in Co. Kildare. These babies are currently only a glint in their Mums' eyes. The breeder had just finished selling his first batch of Tamworth x Gloucester Old Spots (50 of them!) and was now getting his Tammy gilts back in pig but by a Tamworth boar this time. Pigs gestate for the conveniently easy to remember period of 3 months, 3 weeks and 3 days, bringing us round to June, and then would need 6-8 weeks weaning, so we are looking at July. That gives me plenty time to go on the course and to do my fencing and build my ark.

Bramble jelly drips through the bag.

The limping Guinea Fowl, Henry is still limping, no better but no worse. He seems to be getting about OK, still mixes it with the chickens and jealously protects the pecking order slot of his lady, Min as well as getting his own share of any food. We'll just keep an eye on him and hope that he starts to get better soon. We rediscovered our batches of frozen blackberries picked from Bob's hedgerows and decided to turn them into bramble jelly. I seem to have lost my 'jam-setting' mojo and struggled at first to get this slop to set but then Liz suggested chucking in more sugar and suddenly I had it setting in spoons, on test saucers, in the scum-scraping spoon and nearly in the jam pan. I got it into jars in a bit of a hurry and I think it's going to be OK. Pass me that kango hammer, I need to chisel off some jam. In the egg dept I just need to report a 'personal best' / house record: 9 eggs today from 11 hens plus a goose egg. Go the girls!

Lastly I was amazed and flabbergasted by the reaction I got to the picture of washing drying on the line, I posted a few days back. 'What's amazing about washing?' I hear you ask. I had posted the pic as a joke because it was the first time we'd been able to dry anything outdoors since about December, what with all the rain. A friend from college days now living in the USA told me she was amazed and was thinking of doing it that 'old way' which she'd not done since leaving the UK in the 80's. In fact, she said, it was actually illegal to dry your washing out doors and that lately people had been objecting to this ban and there are whole political movements and serious politicians involved. It all came out of some rich folks living in posh 'gated' communities thinking that someone else's undies flapping in the wind was an eye-sore and was presumably latched onto by the white-goods manufacturing industry. Now the move to re-instate it as an activity is coming out of the green, energy-saving factions. I was just gob-smacked and completely thrown by this. Only in America, I would think.... but you never know.