|Oh yeah. . . and we painted the house.|
The Spring has sprung,
The grass is riz,
I wonder where dem birdies is. . . etc
You know the rest. Probably.
We had that poem in one of a series of very nice poetry books for kids made for schools in the sixties/seventies called 'Voices'. Very much of their time. I must try and track some down, they were good.
Yep, spring has sprung all right. Our first in this house ;-) All sorts of bulbs springing up, as they do. Grass growing, blossom starting to appear and the first chiff-chaff of the year singing. He'll be an overwintering one, getting his voice back together I think, it's a touch too early for migrants yet though I could be wrong.
The geese are sitting on eggs in their nesting box things by the pond. (the geese and boxes, and pond, were all passed on to us by the house's previous owner who had lived there for forty years. . .) They are fluffy feathered things called 'Sebastopol Geese', and apparently, due to the fluffy oddness of their feathers, they are rubbish at incubating eggs, at least the ones on the outside of the clutch which can't be kept warm enough.
|Nothing to do with ducks, geese or spring, but just some recent bead eye candy|
Ducks have appeared, and are behaving badly. I never knew ducks went in for what I can only describe as gang rape. Seriously, four of them gang up on one female and physically hold her down. . Nature huh? Still, she has made a nest in the bole of a coppiced hazelnut tree nearby.
The moorhen has a nest in the base of a willow tree by the pond, and the jackdaws are eying the chimney in a purposeful sort of way. Oh well, I might have to light a smokey fire for a short while to put them off.
Oh yeah, Guinea Fowl. We inherited two of them along with the geese, except a fox got one (we assume) so the poor lonely male has been mooning about with the chickens, looking as sad as a guinea fowl can look, all winter. We decided to get another female to keep him company, so my wife went off to get one. She came back with two. The guy at the poultry place was obviously a good salesman. . .
We were advised to keep them apart from the male for a while, but visible to him. OK, so we put them in the fruit cage (also inherited. . .). Only we forgot there was no netting roof on it and that guinea fowl can fly when they want to. The male went nuts when he saw them, it was like all his christmases had come at once, he started running back and forth like a thing possessed, fluffing up his feathers and making those distinctive rusty-gate-on-steroids noises guinea fowl make. The females weren't too impressed and were pretty disorientated anyway, so when he battered his way through the netting and got in to the fruit cage, they promptly took to the air. One flew into the next field never to be seen again, (no idea what happened to it) and the other one flew into a nearby apple tree. So much for keeping them separate. . .
Luckily, things calmed down a bit, she stuck around and now her and him are a proper couple and spend their time pottering round the garden together in perfect and endearing guinea fowl harmony. They don't sing in harmony however, and their song is not remotely endearing, but hey, you can't have everything.
|More eye candy - faux ceramic style|
Norfolk Pronunciation - We are getting to grips with the local accent, which we love by the way. It's quite soft, and fairly slow, as country accents tend to be. A computer is a compooter, a human is a hooman, and my friend tells me he had a boss called Mr Pugh, whose name was pronounced 'Mr Poo' in the local accent. Well, it made me snigger. . .
|Kind of interlocking beads. Faux Stone ware or what?|
Oh yeah, polymer clay stuff. I've been playing with includes as they are called, I believe. All the DIY I have been doing and the materials involved has inspired all sorts of ideas, and all sorts of things to mix with the clay, texture the clay or destroy the clay. . . My experiments have turned out some interesting results. I shall pursue the techniques further. You can get a great faux stone ware look. . .
|Complimentary shaped beads, well rustic.|
Well, I have delighted you enough, as Mr Bennett would have it, so I will shut up until the next outpouring, which will likely be in a week or so I should imagine.