All around my village...

You may remember a little while ago a little post entitled "All Around My House" where I showed you some nooks and crannies around our gaff.  I am fascinated by the small details of people's houses, so I am planning a few more of these posts at some time in the future, but because the weather's been that little bit nicer later I thought I'd treat you to some pictures from around the village I live in instead....

I LOVE walking past this little stall at the side of the road, it's been there for years and I can remember it as a little girl.  It usually has plants, vegetables, sometimes a little bunch or two of Sweet Williams.  It warms my heart to see it whenever I pass by.

There are a lot of peculiar little signs dotted around the village, on the outskirts, in woodland, all over the shop!  They always make me appreciate that some parts of our countryside really have changed much in hundreds of years.

I love this telephone box!  Not just because you don't see them all that often any more, but also because my village has big plans for it!  You may have heard of the good old British telephone box being used by some villages recently to house miniature libraries or little shops, well that's far too ordinary for us!  My village plans to use our telephone box to house a Community Use Defibrillator should anyone have a heart attack and need emergency assistance.   Because we're quite rural it can take the emergency services a little while to get to us, when someone has a heart attack this initial stage is key, so hopefully having this here will save lives!

And lastly, here is our local neighbourhood dragon!  Carved into a hillside by a local landowner - well it's something to do isn't it?  There are many local legends about villagers fighting off a dragon, so we love this little hillside chap.  Excuse the sheep on his tummy!  A sheep's gotta eat!

Hope you enjoyed this little look around the place that I live!  I'd love to see some bits and bobs around your local area!

Love, love,

The Village Take On Public Breastfeeding...

This village is bonkers. It's great, but it's bonkers.

The other day whilst at a church coffee morning (they have the BEST coffee) a lady asked me if the milk in This Baby's bottle was my own. Aside from being a pretty odd question, I wasn't sure what answer she wanted me to give her...

I was truthful and said that no, it was Hipp Organic formula, I had breastfed both my girls until a month old, but found it extremely difficult and made the decision to switch.

"Good" she said "it's all very well breastfeeding, but I can't abide women doing it in public" I wasn't sure what to say really, I don't agree, but I didnt want to cause offence. in the end I elected to go with "Erm, ok" in reply... "I mean SEX is natural isn't it?" she continued "but I don't see the need to do THAT in the middle of an AGM"

This lady is the same age as my Mum.  I mean, what am I meant to do with my face when someone says a thing like that? I didn't think I was a prude, but I clearly am, YOU said sex and now I am embarrassed and you look like that's hysterical because that's exactly what you intended. Curse you clever granny and your sneaky saucy conversation. This isn't about breastfeeding at all is it? You just wanted to sneak the word sex into conversation and freak me out didn't you? YOU ARE COMPLETELY BONKERS! Just so you know....

This Baby's "I don't care where it's from, just gimme the milk" face. She was so small! 

The story of our allotment

I wanted to write a post about our little allotment, I'm not sure if I've mentioned on here before.

We are very lucky to share a blessed little plot of land with our friends Impressive E, Impressive D and their wonderful little boy Woolly (who also happens to be That Baby's favourite friend) it's a short walk away from each of our houses. It's beautiful there, surrounded by trees and close to the river.  We have a little shed with garden themed curtains which houses our tools.

This year will be our fourth year of allotmenting.  We were complete novices when we started out and in many ways we still are.  We're very lucky that either side of our plot there are some seasoned pros who are happy to point us in the right direction and give us a few tips.

The first year we were given the allotment it was just a patch of scrub land.  I remember that year clearly.  That Baby was knee high to a grass hopper but desperate to help out as we spent an incredibly long hot May weekend digging and digging and digging.  It was back breaking.  Cue filthy feet, filthy baths and aching muscles all round.  But we turned that patch of nothing into a place where things grow. And it made us bloody proud! Stupidly we didn't take any photographs of our plot before only during and after it's renovation.

I love this picture!  It shows Mr Husband Sir and I digging like crazy and my Dad sitting in the middle and watching!  That little house to the left at the back was our only shelter at the time and and the only place where we could store tools, wheelbarrows and things.  It was a wonderful little wendy house that belonged to Woolly and he was very kind to let us keep it there.  It became the model for our future shed!  You might have noticed that we decided not to dig traditional style straight plots. We thought we'd go rogue and plumped for a sunshine themed arrangement for our beds.  The logic behind it was that we had two small people to try and keep on the paths and not the vegetables, so we should try and have a lot of paths for them to run around on.  And I have to say it worked.  To an extent.

The sunshine pattern progresses...

Mucky feet mean a good day's work.

Yes I used to dig in ballet shoes,  I actually wore these on our wedding day.  They were ruined, but what does it really matter? I have proper welly shoes now.

So after a LOT of hard work, this is what we achieved:

Neatly dug over and planted

You can still see the string marking the boundary line...

In that first year we grew pretty much anything we could.  We were late starting that year, by May many things should already have been in the ground so we planted what we thought would survive and were jolly happy with our efforts.

A year or so later we added the shed.  That was a great day, we made a bit of an outing of it, had a bbq lunch up there, drank some wine, it was wonderful fun.  We were pretty useless with the actual shed construction.  Impressive E and Impressive D had to do pretty much all of it (hence they are impressive and we are not) but they were very gracious.

Impressive D doing his stuff...

They added a jovial wee wee hole for boys, tsk!  That IS Mr Husband Sir's finger.  No really, it is.

The finished shed, though it now has curtains of course.

Last year we were offered an allotment extension and doubled our ground space. We didn't really manage to dig it over properly last year as I was pregnant and Impressive D was away a lot and unable to help.  But lordy this year, we have great plans!  Although Impressive E is pregnant this year (due in June - I am beyond excited) we plan to take that allotment to task and get it back on track.  We let things slide over winter and we needs to do some serious sorting.  When I manage to get up there with my camera I will take some photographs so you can see how wild it's become!

This is what it's all about, our first basket of home grown goodies,  That Baby was particularly impressed at the prospect of a near endless supply of vegetables!

So, that's it, the tale so far!  I'm going to start a small series of grow your own themed posts with a few things that we've learnt, though we are by no means experts.  They will begin shortly with the delights of the home-grown potato.  You don't even need a plot of land!

Love,

One good deed means sneaking about in the dark.

In my little girl's class at school there's a Mummy who's been having a tough time lately. She's young, funny, full of life and constantly, almost worryingly, positive. But she's had knock after knock lately. As well as having a daughter the same age as That Baby, she also has the most beautiful smiling little boy who's just a toddler. Her Husband has left her and moved abroad. She manages not only to be unerringly supportive of her children, entirely on her own, she also single handedly cares for her elderly grandmother. She's an amazing lady, but if you told her that she wouldn't have any of it.

Tomorrow is her birthday, but she's celebrating without her children. Their everso thoughtful Daddy had taken them away on a family holiday that just so happens to clash with her one and only birthday. Coincidence? She says it is, I say "What a worm!"

So, I organised a little surprise birthday party for her at my house yesterday, only I didn't tell her, that would ruin the surprise a bit. Friends arrived, cakes were arranged on dainty little plates, teapots warmed etc. Then I had a message to say another friend had turned up and whisked her away to spend a lovely day elsewhere. Not knowing about our plans she had no choice but to cancel. It wasn't a problem, we ate cake in her honour and drank tea and chatted and had a lovely time.

This evening I put on my black coat, gloves, pulled up my hood and stealthily made my way to her door. I knocked and left her a parcel of cakes, a gift, card and a bottle of wine on her doorstep.

I didn't stay to talk to her, it was late (ish), well after 9 o'clock, and I worried that if she's anything like me she might be in her pyjamas! Besides, I thought the surprise of a stealth parcel would be nicer. Plus I somehow didn't want her to thank me. Does that sound strange? I just wanted her to know that I was thinking of her. So I stole away into the night. Pretty flippin fast considering the ice!

And as I sneaked away I felt SO happy! A bigger and better high than any drug I'm sure.

I think it's so important to do little things to make people happy every now and then. And certainly worth it.

What can I do next I wonder.....

If you think I'm dressing up as a biker or a cowboy you've got another thing coming....

I've lived in a fair few places in my time, up north, down south. Slap bang in the middle of big towns and right on the outskirts looking in.

I've lived in big houses, pretty little cottages and tiny, damp little flats. I've owned my own house and I've rented a fair few times as well.

I've lived in this village longer than I've ever lived anywhere else. There are a lot of plus sides to village life, you get to know people, faces, from all walks of life. It throws people together, forms groups and friendships that otherwise just might not happen.

One of the things I like most is that to me it feels like we've been stuck in time a little, in a very good way. If you leave your empty pram outside the Post Office, it will still be there when you've finished buying stamps and having a chat. If your baby decides to eject Sophie the Giraffe from her pushchair without you realising, some kindly soul will pick her up and put her on a low wall for you to find when you return in a panic.

A quick dash to one of the only village shops always takes longer than expected because you meet people on the way, catch up and check how they're doing. It saddens me to think that there are some places where these sorts of things just don't happen any more.

A friend of mine broke both her wrists last summer in the craziest camping accident I have ever heard of. It's difficult enough to manage without the use of your hands, but this lovely lady also had young twin boys to look after. On top of which she'd been told not to go anywhere unaccompanied in case she fell, as she wouldn't be able to use her arms to steady herself she risked further injury. It warmed my heart to see people, without question, taking care of her and her family. Rotas were arranged, visits were scheduled. Her washing was taken away and returned clean and pressed, her dog was walked, her meals were cooked, her house was cleaned. The boys were accompanied to school and back every day. She needed help and her community jumped up and gave it. It was amazing.

Now, I'm not trying to imply that I live some sort of charmed life, don't get me wrong, I don't. There are a fair few things I'd change, it's just that this isn't one. And it's not all rose tinted, but even the bad isn't really so bad. There's the occasional fall out and bit of scandal, but life would be dull without them. And a juicy bit of gossip can get around here at lightning speed.

It's also more than slightly bonkers around here sometimes too. We went for a walk by the river yesterday afternoon and, no word of a lie, a chap rode past us on his unicycle.....

From a very new person's perspective, I've found blogland to be a little bit similar to village life, although obviously in a less physical way.  It's lovely to see people offering support and advice, to otherwise complete strangers. It's nice to think there's a place where you can actually say, "hey, I'm having a hard time" and find that you're not the only one, there are others who know EXACTLY what you mean and even have some helpful advice following their own experience.  I've followed some blogs for so long that I sort I feel like I know their writers, though obviously I don't in the slightest.  I once waved at Cassandra from Only Fools and Horses when I saw her in a Carphone Warehouse, I recognised her so I assumed I knew her, oh the shame!  At least she was sweet enough to half wave back and look a bit confused at me...It could have been a lot worse, I have a habit of making a complete tit of myself in this sort of situation.

I suppose my point is that I'm not naive enough to think that blogland is purely a charmed and wonderful place only full of sweet natured people, though this has been my experience so far. I know that there are the other kind of people out there as well, and it does worry me slightly that I'm setting myself up for a fall by being here, being new to it all and not really knowing what I'm doing. That my naivety is going to bite me back. Really flippin hard!

So I guess what I'm asking is, is there a big blogger 'NO list' out there of things you'd be barking mad to post about? How do you stop yourself from getting it wrong or from giving away too much? Or don't you?  Do you deal with potential negativity by ignoring it and carrying on regardless?  How do you know if you're doing something that, to others, is completely bloody bonkers?

You'd tell me right? ;)

Like Calendar Girls only slightly less sexy...

Well, I've been....

• Doing a spot more blog hopping. Thought I'd have a mooch around The Friday Chaos Blog Hop this week. Check out my new (irritatingly massive, can anyone tell me how to shrink it a little) button. It's going to take me an age to work my way through so many new blogs and decide which are for me.

• Dealing with a baby with (suspected) chickenpox. She's not happy, poor love. It's not fun. Get well soon little wiggles x

• Joining the WI, otherwise known as the Women 's Institute. A monthly meeting of ladies of all ages with a different topic each time. Think Calendar Girls only slightly less sexy. Until I joined, obviously! Last night featured a speaker discussing how people married in the UK prior to the current marriage act. It wasn't the best topic in truth, difficult to make it really scintillating, but it was interesting. Next month's speaker sounds AMAZING, can't wait for that. I'll do a separate post over the weekend going into a bit more depth about the organisation. But I got a cake, a cuppa and a canvas bag! Not much more a girl needs in life is there?

• Getting stroppy with the husband. The other night I told him I was popping to the loo, five minutes later he shouted for me like there was some sort of major emergency kicking off. I dropped everything (well, actually pulled everything up) and ran. He wanted me to know a new series of Lewis had started and we'd missed the first episode.....grrr.

• Blogging for over a week. It's an obsession right now, but I think I'm finding my way. Enjoying it so much. It feels like the world just got bigger!

The ironing.  With perspective cleverly provided by a small, poxy baby 

• Ignoring the ironing. It's now epic in proportion. It's going to take me the whole weekend. Surely, if technology has reached the point where we now have computers the size of a bar of soap SOMEONE can invent crease-less clothes? Don't look at me, I can't even shrink a button....

That's pretty much it. Have amazing weekends...

Cough, Cough, Cough....

This Baby is poorly.

Poor little girl. She's had a nasty, nasty cough for three whole weeks. I'm shocking at maths, but three weeks to a seven month old baby is, like, yonks.

So I'm taking her to the doctors tomorrow, for the second time. Generally speaking I'm a big fan of the NHS, they looked after me excellently during both my pregnancies. And I was high risk and expensive. But whenever I go with my children I'm made to feel like a bit if a nuisance. It's probably not intentional, but surely if a baby is coughing so much she can't face solid food and is frequently throwing up her milk through coughing, something needs to be done?

I always feel like I'm being fobbed off when I'm told to give lots of fluids and perhaps try sitting in a steamy room. Just listen to her chest, tell me she sounds awful and give me drugs that will make her all better in the blink of an eye! Please?

It also amuses me endlessly that I bump into someone I know every time I go into the surgery in my village. Every time it happens its the same conversation: "Hello, how are you?" "Oh yes, very well thank you. You?" "Oh yes, fine thanks"

We're at the Doctors, clearly we're not fine. But we are British!