There's a hole in my bucket....

 Winter has arrived here in my corner of the world, although I still think I am the only place in the western hemisphere that has yet to see even the smallest flake of snow but the long, unseasonably warm December has given way to a cold January.  This morning's walk was cold, misty, frosty and beautiful the field stretched out literally further than the eye could see and Defi and Iz both had grey whiskers on their chins as the frost in the air continued to chill everything it touched.  

Like true Golden Retrievers though they still managed to find a patch of mud so it wasn't the clean walk I had imagined first thing!

Down at the bank of the River Wye, Hereford.

My bamboo in the garden an impressive waving focal point is all still and frosty.

The buddleia is frozen in space and time...

I was walking around the garden picking up the dog poo as you do after a good walk and saw my bird feeder hidden amongst the bamboo to protect the birds from the weather and also to stop Defi from trying to get to any tasty treats left out for the birds and it reminded me of C S Lewis, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, the scene in the book (and the film) when Lucy meets Mr Tumnus under the lamp.  My bird feeder isn't quite a lamp but it just reminded me of that part in the story.

With the cold snap we are now having I have been lighting the fire in the kitchen.  In the evening it throws out lots of lovely light with the smell of burning wood and hot coals that  just make me happy and feel warm.  I got given a truck load - I kid not I don't do anything by half! - of wood from our builder neighbour, back in October time, as he is renovating a large old pub and asked me if I wanted some logs for the fire, of course I said yes and so he got one of his chaps to drop off this load of wood, not so much logs as chunks that need to be chopped smaller and spit and hiss and fly out of the grate rather than the lovely old oak logs I was expecting.  We have an entire garage filled with this wood and so I have to burn it somehow, thank goodness for the cold snap because hubby and son were starting to moan about my filling up the garage!

At least Gordy appreciates my efforts and he is now camped out on the hearth from the moment he can get into the kitchen until I remove him for bed at the end of the day. If the fire isn't lit he sits there looking all morose and sad, when it is lit he lies there flaked out and hot needing to be removed periodically to cool down.  

With an open fire comes the job of cleaning it out, throwing ash and smoke into the air and covering every surface in the room.   Of course that job is mine, so on bended knees I shovel ash into the bucket, try not to breathe at the same time, take the ash outside to the compost heap at the bottom of the garden where the slightest breeze whips the pile in the bucket into a frenzy and covers me in grey matter.   This weekend gone I kept the fire in over night, the old trick of covering the coals with the ash from beneath the grate, I love coming down in the morning and having a warm kitchen in which to drink my first cup of tea.  I didn't think too much about the fire when I went out with the dogs that morning for our walk, it had stayed warm and I assumed had gone out as there was no activity, no spitting of wood, no sparks or light just lovely warmth that flooded the room.  When I got home I decided that before I got too warm and comfortable I would clean out the fire and get it ready for lighting later on in the afternoon.  Good plan, I thought.  Unfortunately I didn't think enough as I shovelled the ash into the plastic bucket that I use to bring the wood in from the garage.  Ash out to compost, quick stop at garage, fill up with wood, back in house.  Multi-tasking.  I am woman!  

So what does happen when you put hot ash into a plastic bucket?  why it melts of course, all over your carpet around the fire leaving little blobs of black sludge when you try and lift the bucket that 'did' contain the ash - did, because now its all streaming out the bottom of said bucket and creating a sandstorm effect before your very eyes, the same eyes that are smarting from the ash and watering causing your nose to twitch and you start sneezing violently making any undisturbed ash fly through the air....  Iz and Defi at this point are at the furthest point of the kitchen (which is a big room!) with Gordy behind them trying to get away from the cloud of dust, the looks on their faces possibly showing their true feelings for my genius-ness but not being able to see through the tears, sneezes and ash I can only guess at their expressions.

The next, immediate, problem is how to get the holey bucket with leaking ash out of the kitchen, through the utility room and out the back door, down the garden to the compost heap without creating more mess?  The answer is simple.  You don't, just you make the mess and trail ash through the house and up the garden path, sneezing as you go.  I did put a piece of newspaper under the bucket and try to keep it there whilst I moved but it was a fruitless fix to an absurdly stupid decision in the first place.

My son, as predicted, came in, rolled his eyes, left in the car and returned an hour later with a metal bucket.

Gordy has given up with fires and resorted to checking out if porridge is on the menu for breakfast....

The Old Man Oak

According to the Tithe Map of 1840 there has been a woods along the river walk and orchard route that I take each day with Izabel and Defi, for many more years than what has passed between now and then.  The ancient woodlands have large old trees and ground growing woodland flowers such as wood anemone, wood millet, wood speedwell and goldilocks buttercup, all of which belong to an ancient woodlands.

 

My favourite tree of all these flora, and fauna that run above and below me; apparently there has been sightings of the rare Noble Chafer beetle, he who inhabits the ancient woodlands and lives as a recluse amongst beetles, leading a traditional beetling life, or so I have read, I am not sure if I have seen him out and about during our daily walks but, who knows maybe he is peeking out from behind the Old Man Oak, watching us walk past and listening as we tell our secrets to the Old Man himself.

 

Noble Chafer Beetle

 

 

 

So, my favourite of all these trees is the Old Man Oak, as I have named him, he that stands tall and proud opposite the orchard that have been growing apples in this area since the early 1800's with various agricultural experiments being tried and tested over time to produce the best apple for cider making that our rich and fertile soil can provide.

 

Each day I walk past the Old Man, and feel a great need to touch him, to feel grounded again, on days when my mind is swimming in ideas or turmoil, I rest my back against him and gaze through his old limbs above my head into the sky and whisper my hopes and fears whilst Iz and Defi sniff and snuffle maybe following the scent of the elusive Noble Chafer beetle.

 

I find great solace in the peace that surrounds the Old Man, his age is said to be around 300-350 years old, that's a lot of knowledge and wisdom he must have acquired, not to mention the moonlight trysts, he must have seen, of young lovers meeting near the vicarage which is just a short distance away, or going for a midnight stroll along the banks of the River Wye, on a hot and barmy night in the middle of summer.  The arguments of families, he must have heard, as they weave their way through the woodland on the old path that has seen many feet, the small children dragging theirs through the mud and dust at the horror of being dragged away from the modern world, their lust for electronics removing any desire for fresh air and scurrying squirrels.

 

The orchards in lines, as they have been for many years, bearing fruit to harvest,  stand, as youngsters, opposite the Old Man.  How many harvests has he seen?  The good and the bad? 

 

How many stories does he hear?  The secrets? whispers? dreams?  Does he listen to mine as he has done to those that have stood with their back to him for many years? 

 

How can one tree mean so much to so many people?  I hear from those that are like me, who find the Old Man Oak a 'real' person, the psychiatrist, shrink, friend, parent..... 

 

 

Boot fairs are serious places.

Around 7 this morning, the sun was shrouded in mist but the day was promising, the dew was on the grass and in the hedges with the cobwebs glistening like jewels:  I managed to get my daughter out of bed.  We left the house at just after 8 to go to the local boot fair, my car being full of the discarded junk from the under stairs cupboard and bags of clothes and shoes from daughter's bedroom, a sprinkling of little teddies, a black Cleopatra wig complete with fake crown and a few of my old paintings that had just gathered dust and it was either the boot fair or the skip.

We got to the boot fair 10 minutes after we left the house, paid our extortionate £6 to park at the back of a field with several chickens running about and set about unloading the car into a nice display in the hope that someone would come along and take a fancy to something that we had decided to throw away. 

Six quid is a bit steep I think, the last boot fair we did; I do believe we said never again, was only about 4/5 pounds and that was last year.  Still we gave the older lady in the hi visibility jacket with hair the same colour as mine, a nice bright red hers setting off her wrinkles and me then questioning my hair colour choice as she yelled into her radio to the other older lady at the back of the field in matching hi visibility jacket and boots that we were on our way across, she really didn't need the radio.  So we drove to our slot next to a chap from the Army who was up from Poole visiting his little boy and trying to sell off clothes that the little one had grown out of, after taking shoes and trousers off of him as the lad decided they did fit and were favourites from his position in the boot of the car, two younger girls parked up next to us in skinny jeans and tiny tops with nicely painted toenails showing in their sandals, making me feel I was more suited to standing at the top of the field with the old woman with the same colour hair, hi-visibility jacket and wrinkles as I had donned the practical attire of old fleece, grey, jeans and battered trainers that I use for dog walking.

No one smiled.  No one.

Hereford has a large community of Polish people that have made their home here since the end of the Second World War, once an older community now the younger generation have come in and settled, the town is no longer full of quaint English curiosity shops but endless rows of shops selling Polish cuisine, so for the first couple of hours this morning not an English word was heard, us Brits not known for our get up early and go get a bargin, we are more likely to queue at a venue our stiff upper lips preventing us from pushing through to the front and grabbing that gem, although on our table, those gems were definitely few and far between, unless you like bags and have size 3 feet and a love of ankle breaking heels, as that is what my daughter collects and consequently was making space in her room for more!

Opposite us was a couple in their 60's at a guess, obvious pros as they had a wonderful display of items all gleaming and organized, no dust in sight and using the sleeve of my old fleece I did then spruce up the old CD racks I had brought along to off load, that trick of no dust paying off as a nice Polish chap came and took away all three for the bargin price of £6..that was the entrance fee paid!  Next to the organized couple with the brushed hair and clean clothes was the grumpiest man I think I have ever had the privilege of being near.  He laid out an enormous blanket on the ground and proceeded to remove large colourful toys from his big car and display them, a collection of Cabbage Patch dolls, remote control cars, lego things, winding up things...he had the lot and a face like the child catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, he was mean, so mean that daughter and I counted not 1, not 2 but 4!!  4!! children he made cry by telling them to leave the toys alone, would have been 5 but I managed to stop a nice chap with his grandson and point out that the grandson would get yelled at if he went over there alone, the granddad grabbed his charge and dragged him past thanking me as he did!

So there we were.  A few things found a new home, I managed to gloat with another 'trader' who couldn't sell her Wii board thingie - the one you stand on and it tells you your weight, exercise thing, I never used it! - I flogged ours for the grand sum of £3, she wanted £5, a touch over priced for this type of selling venue. 

Well, we got bored, daughter and I.  We people watched but spent too much time having to walk around the car to stop laughing, some people dressed a bit like me, scruffy but comfortable, some with shirts and ties, some ladies even had high heels on...in a field??  and only a few wore a smile, even when we were trying on the Cleopatra wig, the old woman opposite with no dust on anything looked like she was going to come over to our table and give us a good talking too.

Eventually all good fun must come to an end and it was time to pack up what was left of our wares and come home.  We made the massive sum of £25, got a possible glass bead commission from a great guy up from Glastonbury, and decided once again that we were through with boot fairs....at least for now.  If nothing else daughter got dressed before lunchtime and we had a good laugh and when my wrinkles start showing [more] its because I have enjoyed getting each and every one of them, nothing like a good giggle to start the weekend.












 

When life throws a curve ball.

lampwork flowers on eBay

 

Summer has been with us for the last few weeks,

glorious sunshine and almost cloudless skies.

I don't have Sunflowers this year

except in glass but I do have

some gorgeous Poppies that have burst open.

 Its been a funny few months.  So much has stayed the same but so much has changed.  I am still creating my beads although the genre I create in has changed to flowers, the glass animals seem to have left me for the moment.  I am not worried about my animal muse leaving me altogether as it is still there just in a different art form.




Sunflowers and Sweetpeas



available on eBay

 I have been following my writing muse this year and attending a workshop in Brecon every Tuesday evening.  Its been brilliant.  The drive from Hereford to Brecon is about an hour but its a lovely drive through leafy country roads. 

 

I promised myself this year I would write again.  I have written on and off throughout all my life, long winded journal entries, sad and lonely effigies that have been my therapy when life isn't quite going as planned.  This year I made a quiet promise to myself to try and be more upbeat with my words, thinking the blog was the way to go, I put in more effort and started to enjoy detailing some of my more memorable sagas, like the trip to the supermarket and bra shopping with my daughter.  The workshop was a surprise.  Someone I have met through a craft fair at the Community Farm Open day who is a published writer and on FB put up a notice that she was running this workshop through Take pArt Community Arts Workshop in Brecon.  I at first said it was too far for me but Adele convinced me that it wasn't and so I went.  Anyone that can pronounce the name of the Industrial Estate its on is a better woman than I!  Ffrwdgrech Industrial Estate for any that wish to try!

 

Its a small group but we are doing great things, not least finding out about Maen Llia (pronounced Mine Clear or thereabouts).  In a small twist of fate I have managed to land myself the very important position of writing a monthly column for a magazine.  When the first one is published I will let you know.

 



Tiger Lily flowers.  SOLD.

 

As well as writing and getting out in the sunshine I have been volunteering at the Community Farm at Warham which is just across the farm yard from me.  Once a week I go and get involved with craft themes, beads and jewellery and at the moment big papier mache pig and chicken which are works in progress and they will be for Hereford in Bloom next month.

 

So life threw a curve ball.  Whereas this time last year I was here, alone with an elderly cat, Claude and two mad Golden's Iz and Defi just making beads quietly in my shed, now I am writing, looking after my sweet Gordy and mopping up dribble, charging down to the river with Iz and Defi in the sunshine, being over at the farm and looking forward to creating a fabulous column in the magazine where my animal muse is featuring heavily and creating beautiful gardens in glass.

 

How happy can one girl get?

 

Laney x

Abandoned house in Mordiford.

Some time ago back in March, I think it was the 8th I remember coming home to some flowers from my father as my birthday was 9th..it was a lovely weekend and I was expecting my mother and step father and the house was in desperate need of a tidy up, so my daughter and I took a trip to Mordiford to find the abandoned house for her A'level exam project at Haugh Woods.  The name Haugh, which is pronounced "Hoff" is derived from the name of a Saxon owner indicating that this is the site of an ancient wood

 

As you do when life is busy!

 

I remember she drove and we nearly hit the wall of a house round a tight bend, in her defence: she was driving, there was a huge Mercedes car coming the other way that wanted all the road and was over the white line depicting his side, however we missed!

 

We found the car park to Mordiford woods, eventually.  The woods are about 7 miles outside of Hereford, where we live, so not far but they are up some steep hills, which was a driving lesson for my daughter in how to drop down through the gears and give the car a bit of an 'oooph' to get to the top. 

 

We parked and put on wellie boots, took the cameras and set off to find this house.  We had no idea which way to go and no maps or directions and thinking it wouldn't be far we were in high spirits!

 

How little did we know....the photo to the right shows the beautiful view we saw as we headed off down the nice track......the same nice track that soon became a boggy muddy marshy track....

 
 
 

 

 



It had been raining hard for weeks in our part of the world and the massive trees in the wood showed the casualties.  The enormous root systems fascinated me.

We walked for miles! Over hill and dale as they say - I am a life long lover of James Herriott stories!

 

We eventually came to a farm.  At first we thought it was the abandoned house, but soon realized it wasn't..

 

 

We walked through the bottom of the field which is a public right of way, next to the stream, another fabulous root system has been exposed here, made me feel all Brian Froud - so many references in this post to authors...

This next photo was of a small stream we had to cross further on from the farmstead, the photo still makes me chuckle as my daughter slipped and fell on her bum, leaving her with a muddy bum for the rest of the walk, sometimes its hard to believe she is an adult in her own right, but seriously very funny!

 



 

And finally...we found the house!  We had been walking for hours and were about to give up, our legs were aching, the sun was out and bright and warm and we were dressed for winter in big coats, which we were by this point carrying.  It has to be said that most of these photos were taken by my daughter as there is a big 'keep out' sign around the grounds to the house, but apparently if you don't get an ASBO for an A'level photography project you haven't done well...and that was from the tutor at college!!

 

So I kept look out and did the worrying mother bit and calling out every 30 seconds for her to NOT enter the building and was she ok?  she did get fed up with me!

Isn't it beautiful?  Can you imagine living here, surrounded by woodland, only squirrels to keep you company?  It is said that the house is haunted, it is certainly ethereal feeling being there.

 



These inside photos my daughter took from the door way looking in.  I took a couple of them as my fascination soon overcame my need to abide by the rules and I too stepped over the broken barbed wire and went to have a look, well, we had walked all that way!

 



Outside the fencing were these fungi, I took the picture on my phone, daughter had both hers and my camera by this point, I have no idea on the name of the fungi but a splash of red amongst all that green and mud was a welcoming sight.

 

The photo below right is the hill we climbed to leave the house and head back to the car...yes...CLIMBED!

 



 

Looking back from my vantage point UP  that ENORMOUS hill at the house.

 



The storms had been so fierce that these giants had fallen and snapped.  I climbed over them, as they were in the way, and caught my leg on a branch that was sticking out, the whole of my inside of my thigh went black, then purple, then yellow...then green...it was so sore but after spending so much time laughing over my daughters muddy bum I got no sympathy.

 



Almost at the top of the hill...

 



I have no more photos of the rest of our walk, mainly because we were so exhausted..and lost..and thirsty as we took no provisions.  It took us a further hour and a half to find the car park, by which time we had found the road that had had the car in 1st gear to climb and walked a good few miles up it back to the car.  We were convinced we had done at least 10 miles just on the road, driving back down - I drove she was too tired! - we found the sign post that said ...

 

'3 miles to top of hill for car park'

 

I am still sure they got that wrong!



The big house

I love my morning walk down by the river with my dogs and everyday I get to walk past a beautiful big house.

 

I did a small craft fair/community farm open day last summer, at the farm across the lane from me, you can't get more local than that can you? and met this chap who knew the local history and was a bit of a bore...truly he was the dullest little man ever and the farm manager was hid behind a barn door sniggering at me as I was completely bewitched by this chap and couldn't get away but I did learn a few things about the lanes and fields around me and it got me interested in the history of my walk.

I walk to the right of these trees and every day I think of when they were planted, over 100 yrs ago.

 

I have taken this painting from the website about Brian Hatton (just click on this link) who was born locally in Whitecross, Hereford.

These trees were specimens planted in the early 1900 I know one is a London Plane, I can't remember the other tree that still remains.  As you can see in the painting originally there were three trees but one obviously didn't survive.

Brian Hatton painted these trees which at the time were part of the big house: Warham House gardens and are now part of the public walk around the River Wye.  I often think of Brian Hatton when I walk past these trees, he was sadly killed in Egypt in 1916.

 You can see Warham House in the photo on the right.  This is the back of the house and faces the river.

The photo below shows the trees on the left and the house on the right.

The house is opposite another impressive building, Belmont House, which is now a golf course.  You can read more about Belmont House here

 

According to the very well informed man (who was desperately dull!) the houses were once in the same family and the gardens joined the river on either side, must have been a very impressive sight.

 

Brian Hatton painted many paintings during his short lifetime and the little man I spoke to had lots of drawings and prints with him that day last summer, one of the prints was of the corner that my house is now on.  Sadly I can't find a reference on the internet.  Another sad point is that this resource of history is soon to be lost, if it hasn't already, as Herefordshire Council have stopped funding the offices that housed all the archives of which some are of Brian Hatton and his work and life.

I have taken this photograph of  this painting from the website in the link.  This is Warham Farm, the farm opposite me where my son now works and this house still stands and is lived in by the present farm manager and his wife and two children.  Originally the farm was part of Warham House and can date its origins back to Medieval times with the orchards dating even further back.



Brian Hatton Warham Farm 1910

There is even history in the orchards as Hereford is famous for its apples and of course we have Bulmers cider factory just in town....you really can't beat the smell at harvest time when the tractors take their loads past my gate full of apples destined for the cider press.

 

Its a beautiful walk and I am blessed to be able to walk it everyday with my dogs.  Further up the walk is a very old church, St Michaels and the remains of a mount that is said to be an ancient fort.  I will blog one day about these too.

 

I do find myself lost in thought some days just thinking who may have walked before me along the same route, life has a funny way of marching on and you really do have to live each day to the full before you are no longer the walker but the one who is remembered.

 

There is so much history in Hereford.  We have the Mappi Mundi in our cathedral with a ridiculously long name...Cathedral Church of Blessed Virgin Mary and St Ethelbert...which also is home to the chained library....who has read Harry Potter?  It is said that JK Rowling visited Hereford Cathedral on a school trip (I think she was from Chepstow) and alot of the names used in her books are from the Mappi Mundi as is the chained library, the golden lectern and a few more.  Maybe a few blog posts on the history of this quaint English city...which is really just a big town with a Cathedral... are in order...off to muse.

 

Laney x

Grow your Blog event January 2014

 

I am determined to use my blog better this year so I have joined up to Grow my Blog with 2 Bags Full 

 

To begin with we have to introduce ourselves, so a bit of waffling with a few pictures...I can do that...so why am I doing it last minute as always? 

 

To help me do this quick I am going to do it with pictures and few words, I am that woman of a few words ask anyone...except the husband and the kids and really anyone that knows me!

 

 

That me above...ahem...ok so its not, that is my youngest, my beautiful daughter who turned 18 at Christmas, I looked like this about 20 odd years ago if you squinted and wore dark glasses!

 

This is Defi.  He is my youngest Golden Retriever at 4 in February, he has been with us for 3 yrs now and is a mummys boy who walks around with a comfort blankie and loves cuddles.

 

This is my Izabel, and is why I am Izzybeads.  She is the only dog we have ever had from a puppy, and is the last puppy, boy they are hard work!  I am a rescue and rehome house all the way!!  Izabel is gorgeous but she does prefer the dirty and matted look no amount of grooming and care can make this dog stay fluffy and clean!

Ok, this one is me, but is 20 yrs...or so...ago.  I am with my boys, my beautiful faithful Ricky, the German Shepherd, and my son, the same son that turned 20 at Christmas...yes I know Christmas babies, but then my birthday is March.....the joke is on me! 

 

The daily walk.  I took this photo last week, the mist was low over the river - that's the River Wye just to the right of the picture - and the sun was trying to burn through, was a glorious morning walk.

 

For those that don't know the River Wye is in Hereford in the UK.  I live 5 mins walk from this beauty spot.

 



What do I do?  Well, I draw, you can find my prints at Canine Cavern as well as some of my beads and bits.  More about those in a minute.  My first love of art was drawing, I have doodled my way into my....later years....I have no formal training just a love of doing.

 



My current love.  Glass!  I love glass I love to sculpt it.  Originally I wanted to be more realistic in my glass work, but everything came out whimsy so I stopped trying to change it and went with the flow, everything I make is designed to brighten your day and make you smile.

 



 

My glass is sold in my Etsy shop Izzybeads

 

My beads are designed to display as sculptures but I also make them to wear, sometimes I just get a bit carried away and keep adding sticky out bits!

 



 

 

 

Really there is not much to tell about me, I am a wife of 20 yrs with a very supportive husband, a mother of now grown children although they still live at home and make more mess now than when they were little and I create...well it keeps me out of trouble!

 

 

 We have always had animals.  We had chooks (chickens) until Foxy Loxy came and ate them, we live very rural here in beautiful Herefordshire surrounded by farmland, its idyllic and peaceful.  I am a real home body that can't cook!  My husband does all the cooking and shopping as I am completely rubbish at that, but I do occasionally run the hoover round and in the summer I grow veggies and tend our big garden with the help of my furry four paws.

 

Our newest recruit to the house is our Gordy.  Yes that's him in the washing machine, he uses it like a hamster uses a wheel.  Our Gordy is a bit of a celebrity, he has a huge following on FB, he is my beautiful boy, my British Shorthaired Black and Silver Tabby cat...and he has brain damage.  Gordy has been with us now for 5 months and is the baby of the house loved and adored by us all he doesn't have good balance and falls off of everything, he has no fear so can do silly things like sit on the cooker when its hot or try and sit in the coal fire, and he dribbles..alot...but as you can see we love him anyway, all of us.  He claim to fame is that he was featured in the January edition of Cat World, he is a real life superstar!

 

This picture is just because I like it!

 

So that's me Laney of Izzybeads

 

 

You can find me around the web, on my Facebook page in my Etsy shop and hopefully more often here!

 

Now I am off to have a look at the other Grow your bloggers.

 

Laney x

 

List of other bloggers involved in the Grow your Blog event are found here

 

Vicki 2 Bags Full