Ploughing Match

ploughing_match

Last Sunday a low mist swallowed up the end of our garden. Gradually the sun rose and burnt it away to reveal one of those perfect September days, sunny and fresh. We took the opportunity to attend a local ploughing match. Donned in wellies and jumpers, we crunched across a stubbly field to watch the competitors, from horse-drawn ploughs right up to the latest computerised monster tractor, plough the perfect furrow. You can chart the path of agricultural mechanisation over the last century in the space of one field.

These sorts of events were a staple of my childhood. My Dad worked in the agricultural engineering sector and can’t resist a tractor filled day out. I have to say, I love it too, the vintage tractors being a real highlight. For Little Owl it was the horses. Below are a wonderful team called Sam and Poppet all done up in their brasses. When they got going all the ploughman could do was hang on for dear life!

And against all the odds our local butcher managed to find us a goose for our Harvest Supper. Filled with apricot stuffing and served with all the trimmings it was delicious. Here’s to the harvest and all those who make it happen.

Sam and Poppet. Photo by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).

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Pumpkin problems

Pumpkin illustration by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)Something has been eating our pumpkins! We had a prize specimen of which we were very proud. It was getting fatter by the day and turning a fabulous golden orange. But one day it had some teeth marks in it and the next day there were more. From the size of the teeth marks and from reading some gardening forums on line, it could well be squirrels, eager to get at the seeds inside. Contributors had various solutions, from spraying the pumpkins with anti-squirrel spray to greasing them up with Vaseline. We decided to wait and see, and when another pumpkin started to look promising we quickly lopped it off and brought it inside as soon as we thought it had reached a good size. It’s still a pale creamy colour but is happily resting on a tea towel on a windowsill, gradually ripening.

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September


septemberThe festivity that occupies the majority of Steve Roud’s chapter on September in his book, The English Year, is Harvest Festival. We have some friends who lived for a while in America and every year they celebrate Thanksgiving. While I’m not all that comfortable with some aspects of Thanksgiving (I’ve read of it described as a time of mourning for the Native American People and understandably so) I do love the act of giving thanks. We don’t do it enough in our society and we have a lot to be thankful for. We planned to have a goose for our Harvest Supper, which I know is a bit of a conflation with Michaelmas, but none could be found. Our lovely local butcher rang round every supplier he knew and no one’s geese would be ready until Christmas. Instead we have settled for a chicken, but a really big one, and we’ll have to pretend. We will be trying out a Harvest Pudding this year though. I found it in a book of old Devon recipes. It’s a traditional steam pudding made with apples. I’m pretty sure it will require custard – mmmm!

It’s funny to read how many of our modern ideas about Harvest festivities are recent inventions. The term ‘corn dolly’ was never used by farmworkers, says Roud, but was actually coined in the 1940s by straw-work enthusiasts who developed rudimentary figures of straw into the more complex dollies we think of today. And those rudimentary figures of straw were never put together for pagan fertility rites but are more likely to be remnants of medieval manorial regulations. Many harvest rituals can be traced back to “stipulations concerning the amount of free hay or corn the peasant could take from his lord’s field after his labours there.” Here’s one example, “If any sheaf appears less than is right, it ought to be put in the mud, and the Hayward should grasp his own hair above his ear, and the sheaf should be drawn midway through his arm, and if this can be done without defiling his garments or his hair, then it is adjudged to be less than is right, but otherwise it is judged sufficient.”

Stephen Moss, in his book, Wild Hares and Hummingbirds, describes September as the peak month for autumn migration. Although it will have started as early as July for some birds, and not finish until November for others. It is his description of the hedgerows however, that really resonates with me. The “warm chestnut-brown” of teasels, the “fluffy balls of grey fur” of willow-herb, the “hollow ghosts” of “tall clumps” of hogweed, and the “splashes of orange” signaling “the ripening of rosehips.” Moss recalls crushing rosehips as a school boy so as to get at the yellow pulp which worked very effectively as itching powder when shoved down the back of a classmate’s shirt. I’ll have to try that on Big Dreamer!

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Rain

Photograph of my sketchbook by Hannah Foley. All right reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).Yesterday evening dark rain clouds gathered and the heavens opened. Water rattled along the gutters and rushed through the downpipes. Our water butt was quickly full to overflowing. We have a funny old lean-to on the back of our house and it’s the perfect place to listen to rain. It’s just got a single sheet of clear corrugated plastic for a roof, with large gaps underneath the roof overhang. Every morning the windowsill is covered in a fresh flurry of seeds and garden debris carried in on the breeze. It’s an in-between space, part of the house and part of the garden all at once. Sitting on the kitchen step listening to the bouncing rain yesterday evening, it was like sitting in a tent. The world fell silent as every living thing raced for shelter, all that is, except for two cheeky crows. They pranced around on our neighbours’ garage roof, cawing to each other, seeming to delight in boisterously defying the weather by strutting their stuff in the rain.

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Blossom End Rot

Tomatoes with Blossom End Rot. Image taken from: http://burke.ces.ncsu.edu/2014/07/blossom-end-rot-a-fixable-tomato-problem/

Tomatoes with Blossom End Rot. Image taken from: http://burke.ces.ncsu.edu/2014/07/blossom-end-rot-a-fixable-tomato-problem/

Things have gone very wrong with our tomatoes. We’ve had tons but the majority are marked by the same brown rash. It’s called Blossom End Rot. It’s a physiological problem caused by a lack of calcium getting to the fruit. Despite regular feeding and starting off with plenty of good compost we think this year’s wet august may be the culprit. According to my books, too much rain can dilute the amount of calcium available to the plants and this is the result. Although both the cherry tomatoes and the beef have suffered, it is worse with the beef tomatoes and I think this is probably my fault. Wandering around some nearby allotments this week I can see that I didn’t get rid of enough of the side branches (the cherry tomatoes are a bush variety so don’t have the same need) and I also planted them far too close together. Big Dreamer managed to salvage enough good bits to make a very nice green tomato chutney so all is not lost. And there is always next year!

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Leftovers

Hedgehog illustration by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).Finch is at the stage where he wants to have a go at feeding himself and it’s a messy business. For someone like me, with a strong food waste conscience, it’s just about unbearable to watch. We spread a big sheet of oilcloth under his chair to try and catch as much of the debris as possible. At the end of the day I gather up the oilcloth by its corners and tip it out by the bird feeder for the birds. The other evening Big Dreamer was out in the garden and witnessed a four-legged visitor tucking into Finch’s leftovers. You’ve probably guessed from my picture. That’s right, a snuffly hedgehog hoovered it all up with apparent relish. Little Owl was super excited because her recent wildlife magazine ran a feature on identifying different sorts of animal poo, and the hedgehog had left a perfect specimen for her to tick off on her sheet. And I can now relax as Finch clumsily misses his mouth for the umpteenth time, knowing that our prickly friend considers his rejects a bounty.

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Tying shoelaces

Little Owl’s new shoes are lace-ups so we are trying to teach her to tie them herself. I hadn’t given any thought to the multitude of ways you can tie a bow on a pair of shoes. Big Dreamer and I have totally different methods, and my technique turns out to be really complicated. Thank goodness for the Internet! If you’re at the same stage as us this video shows a super easy way of doing it.

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Variation

An orange elephant by Hannah Foley. All right reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).Hanging out the washing in the morning there’s a definite freshness to the air that wasn’t there a week or so ago. On a walk in the hills above our house this weekend we spotted an enormous painted lady butterfly contentedly sunning itself in a meadow, surrounded by a noisy crowd of clattering crickets, but summer is passing. Down a deep holloway, along which drovers used to bring their cattle to market in the city, we found scattered hazelnut husks. The squirrels obviously think autumn is on its way. Sloes hung heavy in the hedgerows, ripe for the picking. Another day Finch pointed to the sky and yabbered excitedly. Swifts tumbled and turned between the telegraph wires, squeaking away to each other. They were probably getting ready to leave, their annual migration back to Africa beginning in late July and August. Seeing them reminded me of the chapter in The Wind in the Willows where Ratty wrestles with the migratory urge. In response to his questioning a swift says,

“First, we feel it stirring within us, a sweet unrest; then back come the recollections one by one, like homing pigeons. They flutter through our dreams at night, they fly with us in our wheelings and circlings by day. We hunger to inquire of each other, to compare notes and assure ourselves that it was all really true, as one by one the scents and sounds and names of long-forgotten places come gradually back and beckon us.”

But it is Mole who lights my imagination as he waxes lyrical about the “reddening apples…the browning nuts, of jams and preserves and the distilling of cordials” and the “hearty joys” of “midwinter”. For me, summer loses half its joy if there hasn’t been the seasonal variation of autumn, winter and spring in between.

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Expecting…again!

Photo of a rockpool by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).There is only one word for last week and that is NOROVIRUS. I’ll say no more. It was awful.

This morning Little Owl returned to school, every possible surface name-labeled except her forehead. I’m now sat at my desk with peace to think and I hardly know where to start. It’s been a whirlwind of a summer. There’s so many things I’ve not managed to tell you about: paddling in glittering shallows at the seaside; a Rockpool Ramble with our local countryside ranger service, where we netted and marveled at shrimps, snails and even a couple of fish; our first ever crabbing expedition – we caught three but two got a way; picking blackberries to make fruit leather, a crumble and some jam; Finch’s christening. I can’t blame the school holidays for my communication deficiencies, we are due to have our third baby in February and the early stages of pregnancy have left me dazed and tired. But the first trimester fog is slowly clearing and it’s a new term – watch out everyone!

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Inspiration

Morning hedgerow: scorpion, fly, fritillary, skipper, stag-beetle, brimstone, holly-blue by Lynn Bailey (www.lynnbailey.co.uk)

Morning hedgerow: scorpion, fly, fritillary, skipper, stag-beetle, brimstone, holly-blue by Lynn Bailey (www.lynnbailey.co.uk)

Paralysed by a huge and complimentary commission recently I was advised by a wonderful friend to go and delve into something inspiring that wasn’t illustration. The illustration world can be a bit ‘cool’ sometimes and that’s the last thing you need when you’re already feeling daunted! I’ve always found the craft world an exciting place and there’s often lots of crossover with illustration, artists blurring the boundaries of what it means to be an illustrator, fine artist, or craftsperson. So I headed to the craft centre at Bovey Tracey on the edge of Dartmoor.

The craft centre at Bovey is housed in a beautiful old mill and is run by the Devon Guild of Craftsmen. It’s a really wonderful space, full of light. It’s also jam-packed with inspiring treasures. Just now the Devon Guild of Craftsmen are celebrating 60 years with an exhibition. I wanted to share the work of some of the craftspeople who jumped out at me.

The image above is by Lynn Bailey. The piece she had up in the exhibition was called Cirl Bunting – Back from the Brink. They both come from a series she produced called Landforms. She uses a combination of collagraph, dry point, chime colle and mono print to produce these really effective images. I especially love how she overlays meticulously rendered close-ups of flora and fauna. They spill out over the traditional white mount space in just the jumbly, wild way nature does in real time.

Image from Janine Partington's Copper Series (www.janinepartington.co.uk).

Image from Janine Partington’s Copper Series (www.janinepartington.co.uk).

The image here is a tiny part of a larger piece called Fragments of Nature by Janine Partington. In it she arranges a selection of tiny enamelled plates showing natural shapes. I didn’t count them but there must have been at least fifty of these thumbnail-sized plates in the piece. Each plate requires three firings. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried enamelling but it’s really really hard. No, that’s not true, it’s not hard unless you want to produce anything of the quality Janine Partington does. Sadly, I think the vast majority of people would have sailed past this incredible piece of work blithely unaware of the technical prowess involved in producing it. Fragments of Nature comes from Janine’s Copper Series, of which there are two hundred and eighty five plates. You can see them all on her website: www.janinepartington.co.uk.

Whistling Jacks with Buttercups by Amanda Richardson (www.amandarichardsonartist.com).

Whistling Jacks with Buttercups by Amanda Richardson (www.amandarichardsonartist.com).

Talking of technical prowess, let’s talk about Amanda Richardson. Amanda is a textile artist and the piece pictured here is hers. An image on the internet really does no justice to her work. Flattened into pixels it looks like a nice oil painting. It’s not. It’s composed of hundreds and hundreds of tiny pieces of hand-dyed silk, satin, and velvet. Instinctively you want to reach out and stroke it. It shimmers and shifts in the light, like a living garden. If you head to her website she has a series of photographs showing how she builds up one of her pieces. Mind-blowing!

I suppose, given that Lynn, Janine, and Amanda are all women, it may well be high time the Devon Guild of Craftsmen changed it’s name – just a suggestion! The exhibition is on until 6th September so if you happen to be down this way, take a look.

 

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