16th April - Barnstaple

Had to go into Barnstaple to register with a local optician and get the correct size for the lovely ring Ron bought me for my 60th birthday.
I also wanted to do some research into Roman/Romano British Devon (i.e. 5th/6th century)  so a trip to the local museum seemed an obvious place to start.

The Heritage Centre beside Queen Anne Square was nice - but nothing Roman, and the guy inside, while a lovely man, had no idea about anything Roman in Devon. So, instead, I asked him where the old (circa 1720) jail was, as stupidly I couldn't remember.
He didn't know that either.
 (more re this conversation below)

The River Taw at Barnstaple

So Ron and I went to Barnstaple Museum. Again, zilch.

I asked "Have you any information of Roman/Post Roman Devon?" and was promptly told that there isn't anything as, apart from a couple of marching camps and Exeter, the Romans weren't in Devon.

Hmm. That seems a tad unlikely to me.
The might and efficiency of Rome having nothing to do with Devon, apart from Exeter and a couple of campsites?

Would they leave the north coast unguarded? Were they not interested in Devon Tin (or Devon cream teas and/or cider?)

Highly improbable.
I shall continue my research. Mind you if there is no evidence for anything happening here in the late 400's then I am at liberty to make it all up in this next novel I'm planning - Foals of Epona.

The Seeking of the Shrew

 (with respect to Bill Shakespeare for partly pinching his title)

OK, so here's a new take on the children's rhyme and game 

"We're Going On A Bear Hunt"

 (link HERE  to Amazon.co.uk for the story book by Michael Rosen & Helen Oxenbury)




This game must be played at around 7 a.m.
You have to be in bed, sound asleep before you can begin.

Ready?

Let's go on a Shrew Hunt.....

"We're going on a shrew hunt.
We're going to catch a (very tiny) one.
We're not scared....."

Wardrobe. (peer under with the cat - )
Nope, not there...

Chest of drawers (stare under with the cat - )
Nope, not there...

Bed (scrabble under with the cat - )
Nope, not there...

Stool (cautiously peep behind with the cat - )
Nope, not there...

Bookcase (look behind, yes you've got it, with the cat -)
Nope, not there...

Linen basket (move it to one side.... mind the cat)
Nope, not there...

In my shoes... (pick one up, shake... where's the cat????!!!!! )

EEEK!!!!!
"Quick! Quick! There it goes!"

Sigh.

Needless to say the cat didn't catch it and now I have no idea where said shrew is - apart from somewhere upstairs.

Why Sybil had to bring it in and let it go in my bedroom in the first place will be today's unsolved mystery....
answers in the comment box below please :-)


info about shrews:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_shrew

9th April. Baaa!

The noise here is.... noisy. The din is coming from the field at the back (which unfortunately we can't see as there is a copse in the way)

The noise is coming from Mummy sheep baaing to their offspring:
"Come here young Lambkins - don't you get lost"
or
"You come here and drink your milk."
or
"Don't you go running off or that nasty old fox will get you!"

Then we have said offspring yelling back :
"Mummy! Mummy! Look at me!"
and
"Wheee.... we're playing cops and robbers!"
and
"Pah, silly old fox won't catch me!"

then it changes to all the Mum's together:
"Quad bike!"
"Tractor!"
"Farmer!"
"GRUB'S UP! DINN...ERRRR!"

good grief - the noise! I reckon its louder than the rush hour traffic on the A406 North Circular Road that we used to hear *laugh*

And NO. I am NOT complaining.

~ ~ ~

On a more serious note. There is a downside to country living.
What is born, dies. Sometimes not in a very nice way.

We had an unpleasant find the other day. Kathy was tidying up the muck heap (which is in the corner of our bottom field) and found the remains of a lamb, just its back legs and quarters. It had obviously been half eaten - more than likely by a fox.

~ ~ ~

This afternoon Kathy & Adam were about to go out - we looked up the drive and there were about 30 sheep! Obviously escaped from somewhere.

They saw us and high-tailed it back up the lane - with Kathy & Adam in pursuit in an attempt to get in front of them, open a gate & shoosh them into a field.
Sheep were having none of it, though, they went all the way back up the lane.

Meanwhile I phoned our neighbour farmer.... but they weren't his sheep, so no idea where they came from.

7th April

Had our neighbours from "up the hill" here this afternoon (well technically its across the hill, as their house is sort of beside us - but across the fields - however, you have to go UP the lane to get to it.)

They brought their three grandchildren over to say hello to the horses. What a lovely family Monty, Freddy and Freya - super children!

Granddad brought us a present of a milk bottle.
OK - not as weird as it sounds. The bottle comes from the time when Windfall Farm was a real farm - a dairy in fact, for the bottle has on it "Windfall Farm Dairy" (only of course it has the real name, not Windfall Farm - which is a made up pseudonym that I use to keep a little bit of privacy for us.)

It seems that the milkman who delivered the milk lived "up the hill", so I assume he got his milk here from "us".

View which meets me as I step out our front gate.
That white building is....

the Dairy
(pic taken last summer)

So now I need to do some research - I wonder how many cows were here?

Saturday 6th April

What the photos I take don't show are the sounds.

The sheep - you can here the mums calling to the lambs (no pics yet, they are in the field behind the trees, so I can't see them.)

The sound of the tractor as the farmer comes to feed them (and the baas and bleets increase tenfold)

The helicopter - rare to see it this close, although we often hear it in the distance.... it's the air ambulance, and on this occasion hovering over towards Umberleigh:

In the woods you can here woodpeckers and pheasants. The waterfall rushes down the rocks - my wellies squelch in the mud, accompanied by the occasional curse...

The horses' hooves drum on the grass as if the hills are hollow. The wind in the trees sometimes sounds as if a train is hurtling down the valley... or the real train, the Tarka Line passes by from Exeter to Barnstaple, and back again: clackety clack, clackety clack, clackety, clickety, clackety-clack...

The blackbird singing, all the little birds twittering away...

And the smell. The pure, sweet, Devon air that is as intoxicating as champagne... well almost.

~ ~ ~

This is my evening walk with Baz.

Up the drive:

(this photo was taken in March -
the last one of our oold dog, Rum)

Past the daffs in front of the stables:

Up the lane:

OR

Up the field (saying hello to Ishe, as we pass through)

Up to Top Field:

 then back down the lane:

to stop and photograph the most beautiful clump of primroses:

and to shed a few tears of emotion when I spot my lovely house through the primrose-laden hedgerow....

I love it here. Absolutely LOVE it
(oh dear, I'm going to cry again....)

and as I round the corner and head back to the house, the sun has set, dusk is drawing in... and I hear the tawny owl hoot from somewhere in our orchard...