Winter Waffle (A Sense of Solstice)

I quite like this shot of myself and 3 dogs, which Lizzie took in
the monochrome mode on her phone. 

The 21st December, the Winter Solstice is probably now my absolute favourite single day in the calendar. This is probably because in this life 'over here' we spend so much time out of doors and the weather, the day length and the dark evenings matter more - when I was in Kent I'd be up at just gone 04:00 but then work all day inside a huge chilled warehouse with air-con offices and it didn't matter a hoot what the weather was doing outside. You would only meet it when running from covered reception area to your car across the car-park top storey.

I am on Christmas cake duties this
year. Here the cake gets its marzipan.

Now the 21st is the day on which the days stop getting shorter and start to get longer, the evenings brighter and the Springtime 'officially' closer. It is a definite turn-around in fortunes when all manner of aspects of life stop getting 'worse' and start to improve. Lately I have made it the day by which I make sure all the killing, the livestock harvest is done so that mentally I can now think of the current members of the menagerie as our 'fighting weight' from which we will start to build again for the new season. There are one or two more animals to finish, including our June-born lamb Dylan but we will get well through this season before we look at him. I can do the 22nd, 23rd, 24th and 25th, and so on, on a rising, creative trajectory; we are cooking meals, creating food and preparing for Christmas, making things rather than ending lives and 'destroying' or finishing things. Just me being sentimental perhaps.

The  final turkey 'harvest' gets it in the neck. 

This re-start has, this year, added extra facets. This year we got into turkeys which are probably the epitome of harvesting at the Solstice. I killed our last poult this morning and we had her plucked and 'dressed' in time for Vendor Anna to collect her at lunchtime. This one was unusual in that Anna only wanted a 'crown' (the breasts, sternum and underlying ribs) so we have a rather unusual looking breastless carcass in the freezer which we may try to roast spine-uppermost on a bed of spuds, parsnips etc at some stage. Luckily we are both partial to the red meat.

Spatchcocked young Silver Brahma rooster. 

Those roosters I described in the last post turn out to be a breed called "Silver Brahma". One of them was more than a year old and seemed very tough so he went for stock, but one of the young ones got spatchcocked and roasted last night and, despite his 'scrawny' looks, turned out to be a revelation in terms of being meaty enough to feed 2 of us with left overs and having a flavour up there alongside the Hubbard meat birds we do each summer.

Liz coming to of a morning armed with Kindle,
 cat, onesie and the red flame of a fire in the
range

From my own point of view (I can only speak for myself here) I am also including the unexpectedly solid closure I got from the Theo funeral - my Theo era ended pre Solstice and I am now able to start the post-Theo synchronised with this turning point in the year. Down at the Sligo house-build we have also pretty much done with demolition, so the post-Sostice jobs are mainly going to be building and creating. We do actually have a chimney to pull down -  it was central to the old roof ridge but the new roof will sit back a couple of feet and be a tiny bit higher, so we need to create a new stack on that new line.

15 bales of straw for JD's cattle. 

We have been getting into this buildering with the new block-walls at the back of the house and, most recently, what is known as a 'ring beam'. I had not heard of this, but it is a continuously poured beam of concrete reinforced with steel bars (rebar) running all around the tops of your walls at roof height. You create wooden shuttering up from the outside and inside of the walls and heft buckets of wet concrete up ladders to pour into the channel you created. Loads of fun. Tiring, too!

A tree in the nick of time.

It has, though, been an unusually 'close to the wire' Christmas. It is the 21st today and we have a long list of things not yet done or only just done what with delays related to Liz now working, Liz heading for Silverwood land to child-mind while the adults headed for the UK, and the funeral. Things like buying the tree and decorating it, we like to do as a couple, so it was not as if I could have nipped off, bagged our tree and presented it to Liz on her return 'ta-daaaa!' So it was not till Sunday that we bought the thing and tonight we put it up. This was almost too close - Supervalue where we buy the tree had started with hundreds back in early December but by now they only had 4 left. We were lucky to find a decent one among them. Today, too, I have been marzipanning the cake and Liz has been doing Domestic Goddess. We have nipped out with the trailer for 15 bales of straw for some nearby cattle - they have the 'all is safely gathered in' feeling too. We may, between us all, actually be ready on the 25th to enjoy the day. I hope you are too. Now, where's that ruby port?

Yeurkkk! Rabbit!

We've mentioned before about the ARF diet for dogs (Species-) Appropriate Raw Food. When dad used to go on the Westie Chat forum there was a group of mainly Americans who swore by the system of feeding no tinned food to their dogs because of the cereal/rusk in it, and fed their dogs "chicken backs" and other raw meat of species appropriate to the size of dog.

We know from when we've tried it, that it's true that the food is almost 100% digestible, and the dog's poo comes out chalky white, pretty much just ground-up bone. The ARF lot also say that the firmness of the poo lets the dog effectively strip it's own anal glands (by the extra effort, shall we say, not wishing to upset anyone's tea). Anyway, you can read all about it by Googling ARF or clicking on the link

http://www.westieclubamerica.com/health/digestiveproblemsdiet.html

Anyway, as I've said "we" try it every now and again - and often get the "chicken backs" (spine, rib bases, pelvis and Parson's nose) raw when ever Dad is spatch-cocking a chook to roast it.

Tonight, though, the humans are having rabbit, and although the saddle bit is way too meaty and lovely for humans to pass to dogs, the rib-cage bit and neck end get passed down. They are leapt on with gusto by Meggie and the H man, but I amaze everyone including myself by taking one lick, and then turning up my nose and walking off. Yuck! Rabbits - grand for chasing but don't try to feed me them as dinner. I'm not off my food - I dive into the tinned as soon as it's offered.

There's now't so strange as dogs!

Have a great weekend
Deefski

Birchington

Needing an afternoon walk, as well as needing (according to Dad) a blast in the 2CV to warm her up and dry her out, we decide to head for Birchington, on the North Kent coast, out beyond Reculver. It's one half of the town-twinning ( the other being La Chapelle d'Armentieres) which has thrown up the "gift 2CV", which Dad and his cronies are currently restoring, so we were curious as to what Birchington was about - never having been there.

It's a very pleasant little seaside town with excellent dog-walking possibilities. Most of it is a-top a 20 foot chalk cliff, which has a huge grassy dog-walk lawns running right to the edge. Down from this to the low promenade, near sea level, are steps and concrete ramps for boat-trailers, and this prom has a lovely flat edge a dog can crane her neck over to see the waves lapping 3 feet below.

There are steps down, too, so maybe there's some beach visible at low tide (?) and the boat launch slipways are also explore-able by dogs, who can nip down bravely and then scurry back up as a wave comes. Unless you are Meggie, in which case you stand there with a look of bliss on your face, as the waves gently lap around your toes, and splash under your belly!

On a clear day like today, when the air is like crystal, from the cliff top you can see right back to the Reculver Towers, the only "lump" between us being the intriguingly named Plum Pudding Island

Home for the raw spine out of a chook (which is now spatch-cocked) and then a relax in front of the fire, waiting the return of Mum and Diamond, who along with John) is round for supper tonight.

Deefs

Metal Dog

Coo - twice in one day. trying to make up for the missing days no doubt. The Neice is now collected by her gang and we have the house back and the terrace to ourselves to chill out in.

My pic today is of a superb scrap metal dog who "lives" in the garden of my new chum Dylan, and his Dad the Guitar Man (Wham a lam a lam a lam a Rock and Roll is King!). His legs are made of bent copper pipe and his neck is a long twangy spring, so it nods gently in the breeze.

Had to laugh today. Megan, when relaxing on the terrace, before she rolls over on her side and falls asleep completely, sags down onto her belly with her back legs forward (unlike H and myself who stick our back legs out behind). Only Meggie, as she's got more ancient and venerable, and of rather more "solid" proportions (OK, some of it's to do with the Cushings), her belly is now a tad pear-shaped, so the legs, instead of sticking truly forwards, end up splayed around her belly, a bit like a frog.

Neice's Mum commented that she looked like a spatchcocked chicken. Dad was delighted, and thinks this description may well stick, and be added to the canon of dog positions.

For example

"Baby seal" - where the dog curls up one way but then lies their neck in the opposite direction, ending up looking like one of those baby fur seals about to be clubbed in the anti-cull posters

"Flat Dog" - where the dog is on the top step or landing with chin and both front paws at the edge, looking down at you.

"Hot Rocks" - the afore-mentionned hot day, after a run, collapse on some shady ground with front legs forward and back legs backwards, the better to cool those parts of the under-carriage that only Heiniken can reach.

Hot innit?

Have a great weekend

Deefer