Showing posts with label Betty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Betty. Show all posts

Thursday, 3 July 2014

Summer So Far



I don't know about you, but summer is off and running here. We have had hot sunshine. We have had rain too, but it has been welcome for the most part, if only to aid watering the garden. June has merged into July around here, and I've hardly come up for air. All this good weather has stretched my days into the evenings. The weather has made a social being of me. I have had friends around mid week for curry and chat. We have sat in the garden until late with family. There has been evening walks with Honey, so that she wouldn't get too hot.

The garden is in fine fettle. I wonder whether I should carry on with those fledgling garden posts? My garden has fledged! I feel as if I have recorded it's humble beginnings. Maybe I should move on to plot number 10. I have had an epiphany about it this week, and I'm very excited about it. It's always been about the flowers for me, and so my allotment will be about them too.

I would like to tell you about a few lovely things that have happened in the garden, however. I noticed only yesterday that there are Nigella growing in the raised beds. I completely forgot that I had sprinkled some seed earlier this year, and have been lamenting the fact. But then I spied their feathery foliage creeping upwards in between the dahlias and cosmos. And I'm so thrilled. I have ripening Blueberries. Last year they were frazzled by the heatwave we had. This year I have what can only be described as an abundant crop. It makes up for my decimated gooseberries and strawberries. They are almost ready to pick. Fancy that, blueberries for breakfast, picked by the front door! I had another surprise while I was rootling in amongst the blueberry bushes. I noticed what appeared to be weeds growing in the pots. On closer inspection I realised that they were actually verbena boriensis seedlings. This is such a bonus because only one of my established plants has grown back this year. So I have potted them, and they may be ready to plant out soon.

We have had more seagull drama. Sam brought home a baby seagull that he had found wandering the streets. I wasn't best pleased. I was all for taking him back to where he came from, in case the mother was still around. But Sam got location amnesia, and so I was forced to look after him for a couple of days. He escaped into the garden, and the nesting seagulls on our roof attacked him. Olly named him Ewan. He has named the three (three) babies on our roof too. They are wandering around in a rather haphazard manner, pausing every now and then for a little lie down. Their mum calls out to them indifferently every now and again. You can almost picture her reading a copy of Take A Break and smoking a fag, while paying lip service to her maternal duties. The other day I caught one of them staring at me through the Velux window in my bedroom. It's very off putting for a woman of my age, I can assure you. I am still scarred from looking up from my bed in my attic room while at University to see builders waving at me from above. I was rather unprepared clothes wise for that moment too....


We are starting to gear up for the summer holidays. I face it with a mixture of anticipation and dread. I have a list of things to do and places to go. I would really like to go to Bristol and see family and friends. But by myself. Marc has said that he'll take the boys camping. I think they'd probably enjoy it with just Dad. I do try and organise the fun more than they would like sometimes. Now that the houses over the road are finally nearing completion, we are hopeful that our house may seem more attractive than it has up until now. To be honest, I think that we are toppling over the move. Hey, we are nothing if not contrary at chez Paxton. We've had a few things happen that have pulled us up by the short and curlies, not least Marc's almost unemployment. And we have to admit defeat in finding something local that would cater to what we'd like to do. Living here is wonderful, but my goodness you have to pay through the nose for it. Travel thirty miles in either direction and it's achievable. But that isn't an option while Alfie is at senior school. Anyway watch this space. You never know what might happen. I certainly don't.

I have almost given up sugar for about a month now. I haven't cut out eating fruit, not when all of those lovely punnets of strawberries and nectarines are available. I have given up all refined sugar. That means no cake, no biscuits and definitely no liquorice allsorts. I have started to eat more protein and good fats. I have already noticed some benefits. I am no longer bloated. My pre-menstrual nonsense has eased, and my mood is stable. I am happy with that. I am still swimming, although that will take a hit during the holidays. I intend to offset it as much as possible by exercising at home. Although even as I type that I am laughing inside ;)))



So a little round up of stuff around here. My summer so far has been cool. I hope that your has too.

Leanne xx

I just want to thank you all for your loveliness on my why I write post. I love blogging. Everyone is so positive and can do. It's so good to belong such a positive gathering. And hello to new followers. You are most welcome. I am always awry with the etiquette of the blogger, so if I haven't visited your blog please give me a written telling off. I am rather away with the fairies at the moment. It's the lack of sugar that's done it....













Sunday, 9 March 2014

On The Road















It's been a long time since Betty came out to play. She has been over wintered in a barn just outside of St Ives, and we have missed her dreadfully. Marc and I live vicariously through her coolness. She is a total babe, who gets stared at wherever we go. Japanese tourists have stood and had their photographs taken next to her. Our beautiful icon is 40 this year, and is just hitting her stride.

We drove the coast road out of St Ives, through Zennor, Morvah, Pendeen and St Just. To Cape Cornwall and Priests Cove. I packed hot dogs and hot chocolate and Marc and Olly sat and munched their way through 12 in the car park overlooking the cove. I wandered around with my hot chocolate, breathing in the air and marvelling at the view.

I don't know what it is about West Cornwall, but it has my heart. It's not as lush and leafy as some parts of Cornwall. The landscape is rugged and stark. Trees are few and far between, and any vegetation has been gnarled and twisted by it's exposure to the Atlantic. The coastline is spectacular, especially viewed from Betty's front seats. There are many farms, their boundaries being marked by Cornish hedging.

You could almost call the landscape austere, and I would imagine that through the ages life has been tough here. However it is dramatic, and the colours are always breathtaking. There is a romance to the place that prompts people like me to stumble over cliches in an attempt to describe how it looks and how it feels to live here.

Forgive my lyrical waxing. I am a little in love with the place I call home today.

Leanne xx