Latest News from Kirkstead Old Mill Cottage B&B Woodhall Spa

Welcome back, Johnny

My Dad and I are staying with Barbara for the Dambusters 70th anniversary celebrations.  He is 91 and the last British survivor of the original raid, so everyone is making a big fuss of him. They all seem to want autographs and photographs so it is quite tiring for him. But here in the cottage is a lovely haven of peace. Quiet, very comfortable and very relaxing.  Barbara is a lovely hostess.  Thanks.

Morgan Johnson

The Kingfisher Returns

 

Today has been a quite remarkable day; firstly because of the weather and then because a kingfisher was  seen flying above the beck by a newly-arriving guest as he walked to the Cottage from the riverbank.

It's all happening here - at last!

 

The past few days have been quite eventful for me, and quite beautiful too.

On Saturday Reg drove me down into Woodhall Spa so that we could do a bit of shopping in preparation for the arrival of some new guests, and I felt energetic enough to struggle out of the passenger seat of the Volvo so that I could actually get into the Co-op; something I haven't done for months.  Of course, I managed to spend three times the usual amount of cash but it was great to be so warmly greeted by the shop assistants.

On Sunday the sun shone and the wind was warm, so I ventured out into the garden (closely supervised by Reg).  I actually got to the "bottom end" where I was able to feel the swelling, furry buds of the Magnolia stellata trees, and take in the delicate perfume of the Daphne Mezereum, and the last rich scent of the Viburnham x bodnantense 'Dawn'. The Jetfire daffodils that I had seen from the kitchen window in the 'new bed' were even more delightful close up, and so were the white crocuses, showing up so boldly in the gravel under the long pergola .  Under the walnut tree my few, treasured hellibores were making a good attempt at blooming too.  I struggled back to the cottage, leaning heavily on my rollator, past, in the long bed, a few emerging blue hyacinths that Tony had loved so much.

It felt wonderful to have got to outside again, and this time I didn't fall over.

On Monday the sun was visible again and it was really warm in the shelter of the Elaeagnus hedge that surrounds two sides of the raised bed nearest to the land drain.  Reg had been busy weeding all morning, so by the time I joined him he was ready to plant up two of the ten sections with some of last year's shallots.  I carefully weeded round some self-sown forget-me-not seedlings (that John has moved today into Tony's memorial patch in the Wild Garden), and then Reg filled another section with some of the broad bean seeds that I saved last year.  The section that is full of blooming dwarfs daffs I shall keep as a picking bed and then grow lettuces amongst them once the foliage has disappeared again.

Whilst I was working, I became aware of what I thought was a pair of swallows above me, and Reg thought he saw one round by the kitchen.  'They' say that one swallow doesn't make a summer, but I think that on this occasion it may well have heralded a long-awaited spring.  For the daffs on the drain-side bank suddenly unfurled, and the row of species tulips and pink hyacinths up by the entrance gates were suddenly visible, along with the small pink flowers on the peach trees under the car port, which John visited this morning, armed with a new paint brush.  The blue hyacinths have been joined by pink ones, and one couldn't miss the glorious splash of colour even if you tried.  It's all so lovely!

All about snowdrops

Three years ago today I spent the morning printing sheets of this charming little card that my friend Mike had created for me, ready to cut them up and attach them to the small pots of snowdrops that the rest of the family were packing into individual plastic bags for me.  We took them with us to the beautiful new crematorium in Alford where we were to say farewell to my husband Tony. Daisy, my youngest granddaughter, handed them out to our friends after the service, before we went off to the nearby Alford Manor House for a delicious afternoon tea.

Already this year, I have had several reports that "Tony's snowdrops" are in flower and spreading.  I know how thrilled he would be to hear this and  also with today's news that the row of snowdrops that John, our gardener, had planted last month across the bottom of the cottage garden (to mark the position of an underground cable) are also in bloom and attracting the honey bees from their nearby hive.  Hopefully, this means that the swarm that chose to come and dwell with us will have successfully over-wintered. 

Every year Tony and I, often accompanied by my grammar school friend Jackie, would visit a garden to see the snowdrops.  The last trip was to Hodsock Priory in Nottinghamshire, and whilst we were there Tony selected a pot grown Lonicera Fragrantissima (Winter Honeysuckle) for me, which eventually got planted beside the south-facing door to the Cottage last year, and today the bees are also collecting sustenance from its small, white flowers.

A lone small white egret

A lone egret has been seen fishing in the beck over the past few days, and what a welcome, and somewhat rare, visitor it is.  I have added a link to RSPB reference site for you to use if you are wondering what I am talking about.  I first saw this small heron when Tony and I were spending a few days in Kingsbridge in Devon, celebrating a wedding anniversary during the late 1980's.  I like to tell folks that I believe I was one of the first to spot this rare visitor as it fished in the estuary and on the beach.  I'm not an ornithologist so I have no idea how I knew what it was, but I gather from the press that after we had returned to Crawley the area was seathing with "twitchers".

A few years ago I saw a pair of egrets down beside the track, so I'm hoping for even more sightings in 2013.

Memories are made of this - 1984

It is now three years since I had to say goodbye to my dear husband, Tony, and I spent a little bit of yesterday evening looking through a box that came out of his study – our room for dumping stuff in.  I was delighted to find a folder in my hands that brought back some very special memories that I am going to share with you: 

At the end of July 1984, our friends Valerie and Graham joined Tony and me on an adventure.  I can’t recall how I first heard about St. George’s Island, which is about one mile from Looe Harbour in Cornwall, but it was probably through the media, and then my College friend Val bought me the book We Bought an Island, which was written by Miss Evelyn Atkins, one of the two sisters who then owned and occupied the property, which they treasured as a nature reserve.  They welcomed paying guests if they were prepared to do voluntary work for at least a week in return for sharing this sanctuary, or their island “experience”.

When our week was almost at an end, the four of us decided to write a poem for the Visitors’ Book.  I was appointed scribe, and I still have the hand written original (no lap tops or tablets) in those days, and I smiled with pleasure as I reread the page, recalling the creative fun we had, and Graham’s literary contribution seems to particularly linger in my mind.  I’ve reproduced it in full below, and you can read more about Looe Island and the sisters on the Internet via my link. 

I also recall that I was a “right bossy-boots” in the kitchen of the shack that we inhabited.  Spring water was rationed, and used only for drinking and cooking.  Rainwater was also in short supply; so washing up was done in the sea by our fellows as they balanced on the rocky foreshore.  I then insisted all implements were rinsed in boiled rainwater.  Valerie was just as fussy about the area in the “Craft Centre” where we were required to produce sandwiches for sale.  She spring-cleaned it from top to bottom, and we all survived the primitive environment without any maladies.

One of my happiest memories is of sitting (or hiding) on the soft, sun-warmed sand amongst the raspberry canes, probably telling Val (who was then new to gardening) about how they should be pruned, and discussing how useful it was to be able to use seaweed as a mulch in this vegetable area of the garden.

 From St George’s Islands Visitors’ Book:

Four helpers set out from East Looe

Convinced there’d be little to do

But Bab’s daily chat

Soon put paid to that

By deploying those helpers from Looe.

 

Those naïve four helpers from Looe

Soon found there was plenty to do

And ’twixt café and fields

And increasing their yields

It “shagged” those four helpers from Looe.

 

Those tired four helpers from Looe

Rolled barrels from breakfast ’til two,

“Champed” fields and humped coal,

But failed to seal holes,

Those gifted four helpers from Looe.

 

Those experienced helpers from Looe

May return in a year, maybe two,

But in the meanwhile,

God bless this rock pile,

And good luck to Attie’s book two.

Notes: The machine that Tony and Graham managed between them as they mowed up and down the daffodil fields was an Alan Champion – hence the exhausting task “champing”.

 I can’t remember what the holes were in that we failed to fill in.

 

 

Happy Holiday

Mice move into the beehive

John, who supervises my hive for me, came in to tell me this morning that he has caught a pair of mice constructing a nest under the lid of the hive.  To get access they had moved the guard along to increase the size of the opening that the honey bees use.  I wonder if they got stung!

More news from John, who has just finished removing marigolds from around the blue patio and replacing them with wallflowers in preparation for a splash of colour and some delightful perfume in spring 2013.  This is a limited effort as for the past two years we have lost most of these transplants during the freezing weather.  This winter I may try covering them with fleece as they are all in a straight line.

John's back in again with some wonderful news - as he was feeding the swans this lovely sunny morning, he had another sighting of a kingfisher sitting on the metal bar where the pumping station water discharges.  This is a brilliant spot for kingfishers to fish in as the widening beck is a cosy spawning ground for the fish that live in the Witham.  It's probably why we've also got a resident black mink who also cleans out the gold fish from the biggest pond in the garden.

Some excellent news that I must share with you.

I'm so sorry that it is over a month since I found the energy to keep in touch with you via this blog page.  Unfortunately, I'm gradually getting more tired as I cope with the discomfort of moving about with a deteriorating left hip joint, but fortunately I now have two G Plan Malvern recliner chairs that I can use in the Sun Room or the Lounge without experiencing any pain whatsoever, plus a third chair is on its way from Ebay for me to to put in the kitchen.  The only draw back is the problem I face when we experience one of our seemingly regular power cuts; I can be stuck with my legs up because the power pack doesn't have a battery back up, and I've not yet sourced a piece of gear to solve this limitation!  Can anyone help?

Now to the EXCELLENT NEWS - John went out this morning as usual to give our unwanted bread to a pair of swans and briefly saw a couple of KINGFISHERS as well.  We're absolutely thrilled as I think it is almost two years since the last sighting, perhaps due to the very cold winters.  I've got three new guests arriving this afternoon so I hope they get to see them too.

Antics on my lawn

Over the past few days, when I haven't had access to the Internet, I have been entertained by the wild life enjoying the grass in the garden that I fondly call the lawn.  I certainly looks like a lawn when Reg has just been over it with the mower.  Unfortunately, the colony of rabbits that continues to grow does little to keep it shorn.  Some guests have counted up to ten of these unwelcome invaders active together.  I've never seen more than four at once.  However, yesterday a fully grown rabbit was chasing a squirrel about, and what really caught my attention was one of our four young stoats chasing a baby rabbit.  It succeeded, but the encounter didn't lead to the demise of the rabbit kit, which was in my experience unusual, so I guess the stoat kit was just practising.  Soon after, a mother rabbit came onto the scene in a defensive manner.