ENGLISH MUM

So I’m bragging, yes, but my courgettes are huge (not a euphemism).  They have taken over the entire greenhouse, with leaves so enormous you could seriously float down a river on one (yes, of course they would hold my weight – I am, after all, sylph-like in stature).  The chickens have taken to making little impromptu nests under their leaves in the evening, they provide so much shade (and yes,...

Wow it’s been beautiful, hasn’t it?  We’re really starting to feel at home in this house now (well I am, the kids were settled pretty much straight away).  Here at English Towers II our little garden is actually a bit of a revelation, what with the gorgeous Wisteria that’s emerging, draping itself over the wrought iron arch that leads to the vegetable patch and the greenhouse: As you...

Bloody snow. I’m so over it. Go away and let me go out to the shops already. I’ve spent the whole day at home AGAIN. It’s driving me ballistic. I went out and cleared the path only to be told that I could sued if someone slipped on it. How silly – if you’re coming down my path you must be coming to see me, in which case it would be a bit counterproductive to sue me, wouldn’t...

  Y’know, when we started this whole chicken thing, waaaaay back when the wondrous Hugh was starting his Chicken Out campaign, lots of people said to us how they have their own little personalities and you get quite attached to them.  At the time we just laughed and thought ‘yeh, right, isn’t it funny how people always want to give dumb animals a personality’.  But, dearest reader,...

So one of my happier experiments in the garden were these little beauties.  They did have a name, but I’ve bloody forgotten now, although I’m sure Poppy’s Mum or GrowUp, my gardening gurus, will let me know in due course.  Yesterday, then, we decided to pick one and test it out.  ‘Ooh’, said #1, ‘cauliflower cheese!’.  ‘Yum’, said I.  ‘Bleurgh’,...

…well, frankly, a bit pooey. Let me explain.  We woke up this morning to much commotion.  There was howling and yowling and even the odd woof (very unusual – Bert’s usually completely non-woofish).  Anyhoo, disgressing.  So a very excited Bert was telling us something crucially important, and we needed to get downstairs right away.  Something wasn’t quite right in the garden.  ‘ Look!’...

So happily, some semblance of peace has been restored this weekend in the garden here at English Towers.  I have to take most of the credit for this (well, me and several small children) as, finally, the coop has a run.  Oh yes, don’t say I’m not handy with a hammer… well, a couple of electric fence poles (not live, natch), some chicken wire and a few cable ties anyway (one upside of living...

So this is a good one.  I got tagged by Jane at Foodzilla over in Michigan (I know!  I’m feeling all international and cosmopolitan now) to tell her six unimportant things that I love.  Actually, this is more difficult than it seems as every time I thought of something it occurred to me that it really was quite important after all.  Still, I managed, so here goes: 1.  My doggit.  Yeh, okay, so he’s...

1.  This takes a bit of forward planning.  The night before, when your retired, lazy git of a greyhound is asleep on your lap, decide that he smells a bit ‘doggy’ and resolve to bath him the next day if it’s sunny.  When the next day dawns bright and warm, remove your greyhound from his sleeping place in the shade and douse liberally with the hose.  Next, chase your escaped greyhound back...

Okay, so the rabbits haven’t eaten everything, although I’m really disappointed that they ate the tiny shoots of the plants that my Ma and I planted (what were they Ma?  Dahlias and something?) as I really fancy having a few more flowers in the garden.  One teeny new shoot has just peeked out again (see the little bed by the patio, left of top pic) so I’ve covered it in a cloche to see if...