Wednesday 22 December 2021

Covid Does it Again


This Christmas is a real cup-half-full/cup-half-empty moment for me.

Christmas 2019:- Nigel, me, Pascoe, Carenza and Perran had assembled at our house, the tree was decked, the food prepped, the gifts wrapped.  But on Christmas Eve, I was felled with a mystery virus, like flu but much worse.  I was out of it until well after Christmas.

Christmas 2020:- Nigel, Pascoe and I had assembled at our house, the tree was decked, etc, then the sudden lockdown eliminated Perran and Carenza from Christmas at home.

Christmas 2021:- seeing the way Omicron was spreading, Pascoe arrived early at our house, then Carenza, although somewhat delayed, waiting for the outcome of one PCR after another (both negative).  We hadn’t even done anything about the tree and food at that point.   

We were within just a few days of having the complete family Christmas when a PCR result meant Perran wasn’t coming home after all.

Cup half empty – it won’t be a proper Christmas without him.

Cup half full – he’s not too ill.

Cup half full - we should be able to catch up immediately after Christmas.

Maybe, 2022…

Wednesday 8 December 2021

How to name a Hedgehog


We are sheltering a young hedgehog until it gains weight and can safely be allowed to hibernate.

I am reluctant to name it since it is a wild creature.

However, Nigel and Carenza insist it should have a name.

And that the name must begin with H.

Nigel favours Hodgkins, but it reminds me of Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

Carenza advocates Hannibal, but its far too Silence of the Lambs.

I continue to call it ‘The hedgehog.’

The other evening when Nigel was in a meeting, I went to the bathroom (where its cage is) to give the hedgehog its brimming dish of catfood.

Only to discover that the cage door was open and there was nobody at home.

I stared at the open door catch.  Was this a ‘Clever Girl’ moment as in Jurassic Park when the velociraptor learns how to work doorhandles?

Or was it just another sign of my own decrepitude – had I perhaps failed to lock up after mucking the cage out that morning?

On hands and knees, I peered under every bed, seeking Hannibal-Hodgkins.  But I did not call its name as it would freeze, curl up and go silent. Which is exactly how a wild animal should behave.

And, more importantly, calling its name would also have alerted Nigel to the fact I had let the hedgehog escape.

Eventually, a slight rustling led me to a cosy nook beside the chest of drawers in our room.

With garden gauntlets, I returned the thwarted hedgehog to its cage, and the compensations of  nest-box and catfood.

But I do at least now have a name for it.

Houdini Hedgehog.

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

Wednesday 1 December 2021

A hedgehog lodger

 


Late on Friday night, Nigel went out to the compost heap, as is his habit.  I know he is having a wee on the compost (‘to nitrogenate it’) but neither of us chooses to mention this.

He was gone longer than usual.  I began idly to wonder if a compost monster had reared up and grabbed him in its grassy jaws.

But no, he burst in saying ‘Guess what I’ve found!’

I accompanied him into the dark garden to find…nothing.

Apparently, there had been a hedgehog snuffling about by the compost bin.  Hedgehogs are not quiet creatures, so we caught up with it by the fence. At first I was delighted but soon realised the hedgehog was undersized – a young one.

We googled the weight at which a hedgehog may safely hibernate – 600g.  Below that, it may well die in its sleep.

We put our young friend on the kitchen scales – 475g.

We would hold onto it until it reached fighting weight and could successfully doze through the remainder of winter.  We had done it once before, a decade ago.

Tricia very kindly lent us a dog crate and Duncan brought it round.  We fussed about hedgehog food and bedding.

Carenza, who had taken charge of our previous hedgehog lodger had another preoccupation –

‘What will you call it?  Hannibal?’

‘We don’t know the sex yet.’

‘Well, I think Hannibal is a pretty name for a boy or a girl.’

But we haven’t named it yet.  After all – it’s not a pet, but a little creature who must be returned to the wild one day.  And that is what we are working towards.

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

Thursday 25 November 2021

Golden Tree Moment


I always look forward to one particular Autumn moment – as you walk through a narrow gap between our street and the main road, straight ahead is a beautifully shaped maple tree which turns completely golden, just before its leaves begin to descend. 

Last year, the moment never came – a gale stripped the foliage before it had yellowed. But this year it was back in its full glory.

EXCEPT,

When I went to photograph the tree to send to my children, I discovered something new and even taller growing there.  There is now a huge and hideous 5G telecomms mast sprouting amid the Autumn splendour.

Our neighbours have been fighting this excrescence, although Nigel and I were a little ambivalent since we would appreciate better phone reception. 

There is probably Somebody’s Law that where Residents’ Associations are strong, phone masts are few and far between. 

However, there’s a rumour that instead of supporting a variety of different networks, this new mast will serve only one, and one none of us uses at that.  If such proves to be the case, it will be very sad indeed as even more 5G masts will need to be built, and we shall not be the only ones with an unwelcome addition to our Autumn treescape.

Friday 19 November 2021

Autumn Quick Green Crafts

 


Out walking at the moment, I am often literally stopped in my tracks by the lavish beauty of the season.

The combination of exquisite leaf shapes and crackling colours sends me creative.  My head floods with ideas and I’m in danger of being overwhelmed and undertaking nothing. 

This year I salvaged two quick craft projects from the Autumn parade.  One is to take the prettiest small leaves and press them in old encyclopaedias, as my mother taught me.  In two weeks, they will be ready to glue onto seasonal birthday cards.

The other is to dry hydrangea heads.  Hydrangeas spend the summers putting out innocent candy-coloured flowers, but they take on a more subtle blushing and tinting in autumn.  I have hung them upside down in my larder and when they are dry, they will fill vacant vases round the house.  Dried hydrangeas always remind me of my art teacher who would keep them in her draped and jumbled art room, ready for us to paint a still life.

Whether it is the slight melancholy of the falling season, but carrying out these small acts makes me feel a connection with days and people from my past, a sensation which even as it saddens, comforts.

Autumn acer leaf cards
 
Autumn acer leaf cards


Wednesday 10 November 2021

The Return of Fun


Fun has come back, but frankly I’m not sure I’m ready for it.

For many months I have barely been into London except to participate in peaceful protests about climate change.

However, at the weekend, Carenza took me to a play at the Sam Wannamaker Theatre – the candlelit theatre next to the Globe.

What caused us to chance our health in this way?

The strapline – ‘Forget about Covid – Let’s have some Ovid.’

Years ago, I had taught Ovid to Carenza – my first Latin pupil - and now here was the chance to watch an imaginative retelling of some of his Metamorphoses – tales of shape-changing.

We hadn’t attended the Wannamaker before and its crowded benches are euphemistically described as ‘intimate’.  All the adults were wearing a mask, but even so…

However, when the play started, with its four talented actors changing roles faster than you could remove a hat, we were entranced.  For ninety minutes, we forgot all about Covid.

 

Afterwards, in buoyant mood, we strolled along the South Bank to Vaulty Towers where we had a table booked for dinner.  Old theatre sets made the interior of this pub fun, and it served only vegan barfood.  No wonder it was popular.  No wonder it was crowded….

Once again, I had to wrestle with my Covid fears.  Luckily my ‘Fun’ side won

 – and a good thing too as it has been leading rather a quiet life lately.

Friday 22 October 2021

A Bit of a Bash


One of the effects of covid has been fewer outings and get togethers.  There is an upside. It means that within the quiet beige landscape of our lives any celebratistands out like a faceted jewel gleaming in a precious setting.
I was so thrilled that all three children came and stayed for my birthday.  We pushed the boat out and went for two outings.  We spent Saturday at RHS Wisley where the Autumn colours were kindling along the avenues. Then on Sunday after church we visited the Royal Academy (belated) summer exhibition.  It is a measure of my euphoria that just for one brief moment I even considered buying something.  
We also caught up with our great friends Ethan and Dan at points over the weekend. 
And now it is over. But for a long time I shall be turning over the memory of this bright jewel until it becomes as smooth as sea glass in my pocket.

Friday 15 October 2021

The Time of Year For Action


I remember my Latin teacher at school explaining that Autumn was her favourite time of year – it marked the start of the academic year and for her it was a time of new beginnings.

I agree.  In addition, Autumn russets are the colours which suit me.  Not only that, but I have an Autumn birthday. 

As the leaves turn gold and the clocks shift back, there is usually an anticipation of cosiness and hibernation.

This year, however, the UN’s climate conference, COP26, is about to take place in Glasgow, and it means we must not settle into the inertia of winter just yet. 

If we want to see more golden Autumns, it is vital that we try to influence the world leaders in any way we can to curb Climate Catastrophe. 

So get involved in signing petitions, campaigning and marching.  Politicians only act when they can see how important an issue is to their electorate.  Please help convince them.

Take part in the Global Day of Action, November 6th.

https://cop26coalition.org/gda/

For readers in St Albans, Friends of the Earth is organising a peaceful rally, meeting St Albans Arena, midday Nov 6th and marching to the Clock Tower for speeches.

Elsewhere, google or consult the Facebook pages of your local Friends of the Earth, Greenpeace and Extinction Rebellion.

Wednesday 6 October 2021

The Best Medicine


We have felt blue and weary during the weeks surrounding Nigel’s sister’s death.

Fortunately for us, our old friends David and Carolyn did what they could to help.

Months before all this happened, Carolyn had booked a house in the Peak District where we were to meet them for a long weekend.  As the date approached, it seemed unlikely we would make it.

When the date for Sandy’s funeral was set for that Friday, it looked as if our trip was off.

Except that other family members were supporting Nigel’s mother following the funeral, so our presence wasn’t needed after all.

David and Carolyn gave up their Friday to attend the funeral and then went ahead of us to Derbyshire where they had dinner waiting for us when we arrived.  They took us on a long rainy, muddy walk on Saturday.  Then Carolyn and I found a creche in which to leave the menfolk (The Queen’s Head) and raided the charity shops of Bakewell – a form of retail therapy which is both green and socially responsible.

And we talked.  How we talked!

By the end of the weekend we were making silly jokes and laughing again.

That doesn’t mean we are now fine. 

But it was a welcome oasis along the path of bereavement.

Thank you to David and Carolyn for the gift of your friendship.

Friday 1 October 2021

Some gladness in the goodbye


As I mentioned last week, Nigel’s sister Sandy died.

She had suffered for many years from anorexia and died well short of the years she might have expected.  Undeniably this has been very sad,

However, this week we have found so much in her life to be grateful for.

The reason has been the funeral.

People get excited about weddings, but to me a funeral is the superior rite of passage:


Paul organised the ceremony around the grave.

Afterwards at the church, Pascoe and Benjy read lessons, Jo and Nigel remembered the amazing things Sandy had achieved in spite of her difficulties.  Perran read praising emails from colleagues in the NHS where Sandra did very effective voluntary work.

Carenza read a letter from a new friend whom Sandra had made in hospital the very day before she died.  Abbi sang a beautiful song anticipating Sandy’s future life in Heaven.

Women from Sandy’s church served the tea afterwards.

Friends and relatives got together and reminisced about Sandy and caught up on family news.

God Himself contributed rainbows throughout the day and especially at the interment.

 

As a churchgoer, I find myself at funerals fairly regularly, especially those of elderly members of the congregation.

It is always a chance to appreciate the life lived, to give thanks and to start the process of healing. 

But the best thing is the intense spirit of goodwill which, for a few hours, glues together a temporary community made of the disparate band of friends and relatives who loved the person who died.

 

 Photo by Andrew Johnson on Unsplash

 

 

Sunday 26 September 2021

A Death in the Family



Sadly Nigel’s sister, Sandy, died last week.

It started with a fall and ended with pneumonia.  Sandy was vulnerable following many years of anorexia.

Nigel and her mother were at Sandy’s bedside at the end as she passed on peacefully.

We are all full of regret that she never completely escaped the warped kingdom of anorexia.

However, her Christian belief and ours is for an afterlife and it pleases us to picture her, (like Pilgrim, in the book by John Bunyan), casting aside her earthly burdens and bounding on eager feet over springy green turf towards her Heavenly Father.

There have also been blessings for those of us left behind - as the email messages and cards roll in we see how many friends and supporters she had and how many people valued her voluntary work for the Royal Victoria Infirmary in Newcastle, where she had previously been on the board of governors, putting the patient’s point of view, piloting new projects and writing clear reports.

Fittingly, it was in the RVI to which she had given her time and energy that she died. 

Even with her life limited by severe illness Sandy had achieved so much that was worthwhile and she will be missed by many.

Which we shall try to see as a comfort.


The photo above shows Sandy with her mother when still in her twenties.

Thursday 16 September 2021

Pilgrims of Hope


Pilgrims of Hope

Pilgrims needed a place to sleep overnight. We offered our church hall.

It seemed simple, but they brought with them so much to think and feel and pray about. Like Wordsworth's newborn child, they arrived trailing clouds of glory.
These pilgrims were the Camino to COP, a multi-faith pilgrimage concerned with the impending climate catastrophe. They have grown out of the Extinction Rebellion Faith Bridge.  They are walking from London, scene of the recent extinction rebellion peaceful protests, to Glasgow in time for the internationally crucial COP26 talks on stemming the climate emergency.
On their way they are listening to the concerns of those they meet and telling their own stories.
As they go, a gathering groundswell of prayer buoys them up.

Before they arrived, I had felt no envy for them walking many miles each day in all weathers, dependent on the kindness of others for bed, board, showers and laundry.
But when they left their tread was light, considering that they carried our hopes and fears on their backs.

I felt my own heels lifting from the ground. The energy of their journey very nearly carried me with them.
Instead I turned to make sure our church hall was tidy. It was. They had left it spotless. You would never know that so many hopes and dreams had roosted there overnight.



Sunday 5 September 2021

Climate Catastrophe is Happening Now


I didn’t blog recently, not because nothing was happening, but because too much was. 

Extinction Rebellion had a fortnight of protests in London.  XR’s original mission was to draw attention to climate change as a reality, in spite of reassurances from the fossil fuel companies.  Since the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change issued its recent ‘Code Red for humanity’, there are few climate deniers left.

Extinction Rebellion’s updated quest is to get the government to act on climate change.  Despite making reassuring promises, they are supporting the opening of the vast new Cambo oilfield in Shetland and a new coalmine in Cumbria, while spending £27 billion on new roads and devastating an irreplaceable swathe of countryside with their HS2 white elephant project.

During the fortnight’s XR activities, Nigel sat down as an act of peaceful protest and offered himself for arrest twice, once chained to the pink table in the West End and once on a junction just north of Tower Bridge.  It is his way of shouting aloud ‘Stop the harm!’

I found myself surrounded by police cordons on at least three occasions and lost count of the number of times I was threatened with arrest. 

Extinction Rebellion causes disruption and this is controversial.  But the argument is that this is only the slightest fraction of the disruption which will be caused by climate catastrophe if it continues unchecked – ask the inhabitants of Germany or New York who suffered in recent flash floods.

There will be no ‘Business as Usual’ on a dead planet.

However, if the techniques of XR (Extinction Rebellion) seem uncomfortable to you, please still act to protect your planet by joining one of the other green organisations and following their advice to write to politicians and sign petitions.  We must act now.



Home - Extinction Rebellion UK

 Greenpeace UK

https://www.greenpeace.org.uk

 The Green Party | Home

Friends of the Earth | Home

https://friendsoftheearth.uk

 

Inside the women's action at Oxford Circus


Thursday 19 August 2021

Chuffed to Bits


I’m Cornish, raised on stories of Piskies, Buccas and Spriggans.  And of the Cornish chough - the almost mythical bird which appears on the Cornish coat of arms.

A small member of the crow family with a distinctive red bill and legs, the chough had become extinct in Cornwall due to loss of habitat.  When I was a child, the only choughs left in Cornwall were a couple of depressed specimens in a cage in Newquay Zoo.

However, just a few years ago, birds from Ireland or Wales colonised Kynance Cove, to the far West of Cornwall.

When in Cornwall, my priority is to spend time with my parents so getting to Kynance Cove slipped from one year’s to-do list to another’s.  I never would see a Cornish chough.

However, this year, so as not to expose my parents to any risk of Covid, Nigel and I booked holiday accommodation near Truro and, in between family visits, walked the coast.

On the very first day at Trevellas Cove (many miles from Kynance), a high pitched ‘Keeaugh, keeaugh’ made me look hard at a quartet of crows.  In fact only three were crows, the fourth bird, smaller and more delicate, was a chough.  I was beyond excited.  However, the crows were bullying this lone bird.   We visited Trevellas twice more, but saw no chough. 

Finally on the penultimate day, we walked a particularly rugged section of cliff path between Porthtowan and Portreath.  ‘Keeaugh, keeaugh’ first a pair, and later, a small group of choughs reminding me of porpoises as they flew away.  The choughs here were not being attacked by crows, and looked settled.

How did I feel about my first sightings of the legendary bird of Cornwall? 

Chuffed to bits of course.

(With thanks to Pascoe and Richard for the sophisticated pun)


Thursday 12 August 2021

Lord of the Flies


Although year on year our  insect population is declining due to use of pesticides, there still seem to be enough of them around to bite me.

So when Carenza and I visited Butser Ancient Farm, I applied some of the Ancient Insect Repellent which has for some time resided in our car. 

‘No thanks,’ said Carenza.

As we showed our tickets at the entrance, I began to find it hard to concentrate, even to speak.  I had been surrounded by a thick cloud of small flies.

As we had a coffee in the picnic area, the flies, overcome by some strange invertebrate ecstasy, began to dash themselves against my arms, still slick with sunscreen and repellent.  They adhered there as if I were a human flypaper.

Even the Butser Farm goats had fewer flies round them.

I evaded them for a short time by stalking rapidly to the ladies’ loo.  When I got back, Carenza said she’d been worried they might start bothering her, but instead they had remained buzzing wistfully around my chair until I returned.

‘They really love me, don’t they?’

‘They think you’re their queen.’

In fact, the explanation was that insect repellent contains pheromones which in large quantities ward off insects, but in much smaller concentrations, attract them.  So the one thing worse than having no insect repellent was having very old insect repellent.

Unless of course, you want to be ‘Lord of the Flies’.

 

Friday 6 August 2021

Don’t Mention Blair Witch


 Carenza and I were going for a mother-daughter camping weekend. 

I had pictured us tramping the South Downs Way, traversing a bright carpet of chalk-hill flowers and remarking the ancient tumuli and hillforts.

However, due to the pandemic, it was incredibly tricky to book.

So when I finally spotted a pitch, I grabbed it without too many questions.

I’d never tried woodland camping before, but it was sure to be lovely.

Early on Friday evening we reached the tiny village and drove up a narrow lane to the farm where an improvised sign sent us up a track, and another arrow directed us along a grassy bridleway, until finally we were at the wood, deserted except for one other couple, also newly arrived and equally apprehensive.

There were, in fact, only two pitches, maybe forty metres apart, each in its own clearing.  The ‘facilities’ consisted of one broken portaloo.  Worst of all, there was no phone signal.

‘I’m really glad that other couple is there,’ I said to Carenza, half wondering to myself, whether it was possible visually to distinguish axe murderers from ordinary folks.  But by the second night they had moved on and we were alone.  Wordlessly, I placed my hiking pole next to my sleeping bag.

In the event, it would be wrong to say that we were not disturbed, but all the disturbances were good ones - a family of frolicking badgers, a small herd of fallow deer including one pure white animal like something from a myth, some very talkative tawny owls and the local larks who could not keep from singing the moment the sun showed its face.

On Sunday, once we had packed the tent away, I said to Carenza, ‘It’s okay – you can mention The Blair Witch Project now.’

Friday 30 July 2021

Home is where the Frog Is

 


As I leave the car, I often go back and peer in through the window.  I am checking the handbrake.  It is always on.  I set off down the pavement again.  After a few paces, I take the key controls from my pocket, point them at the car, press the ‘locked’ symbol.  The car flashes to me that it was already locked.

After eighteen months of working at home (and in fact doing everything else at home too!), I am unused to going out anywhere much and I react to the strangeness by over-checking the car. 

As I’ve already said, getting away on holiday was especially momentous in a year when there were so many obstacles.  We were so fortunate to get away for a week, but it felt weird. It was hard to leave the house and garden with which we have become so much more intimately involved.

But the flipside of this is that homecoming means so much more.  We exclaimed at the fresh blooms on the rudbeckia, the tomatoes reddening in the greenhouse and the young squabs in the dovecote.  at the birdfeeders were the fluffy offspring of bluetits’ and coaltits’ second broods.

But once the car was unpacked, the thing I most wanted to do was to sit beside our little pond.  A gang of the most miniature new froglets were hopping about while a larger one skulked patiently amongst the waterlilies, waiting for a passing fly.

‘Ah!’ I called to Nigel, ‘Home is where the frog is.’

Friday 9 July 2021

Enhanced Reality


 Pascoe showed me a phone app which gave an enhanced reality view of the world - extra information about whatever he pointed his phone at.

But I’ve been finding that taking an interest in wildlife has the effect of enhancing my reality.
The other day we walked along the Northumberland coast near Low Newton.

The dunes were more colourful than the Chelsea flower show with bloody cranesbill, burnet rose and cinquefoil.

An area of beach had been cordoned off for ground nesting birds. At first it looked to us empty, the sand broken only by hummocks of maram grass. Yet as we watched, something moved.  Finally, we made out a family of ringed plovers, the parents with their natty, black-banded plumage, the chicks brownish and fluffy yet agile, able to run and hide.
Beneath Dunstanburgh castle, a parabolic cliff magnified the onomatopoeiac cries of the kittiwakes and the cackles of the fulmars nesting there, while a raft of razor bills looked on from the water beneath
Later on, I played the RSPB app birdcalls on my phone and duetted with firstly a sedge warbler and then a reed bunting.

And last of all, the thing that set the crown on the afternoon. Nearly back at the car park, I cast a casual eye over a brackish pond and saw an avocet with its immaculate black and white plumage and its unique upturned bill.  Once nearly extinct in the UK, this was a special sighting.

Really nothing at all had happened to us that day on our eight mile hike, but the wildlife made me feel as if it had been an incredibly eventful day.



Wednesday 7 July 2021

Pre-holiday tension


We had been planning a trip to Bamburgh – a chance to combine a holiday with our grown-up children with visiting Nigel’s family in Northumberland.

A week on the English coast seemed like a very down-to-earth option.

But in the ten days beforehand I realised the holiday was in fact a preposterous proposition.

How on earth could six of us, including three from London and one from Edinburgh hope to escape the surging new wave of Covid?

And even if we escaped Covid itself, how could we possibly avoid getting pinged and told to self isolate?

I began to have a mental picture of Bamburgh Castle surrounded by clouds – we had built a castle in the air.

The solution should have been to undertake as little social contact as possible for ten days before the holiday.

But we all had various long-standing commitments - in Nigel’s case, a trip into central London.

A couple of days before the holiday, Nigel sounded a bit wheezy. 

‘It’s hayfever!’

The next day, still wheezy.

‘My hayfever has triggered my asthma.’

Finally, he took a test.  I had so many parts of my anatomy crossed that I nearly strained myself.

It was negative.

And miraculously, all the youngsters were also in the clear.

I still can’t believe we all got to Bamburgh!

And the other thing I can’t believe is how quickly the long-awaited week rushed by.


Photo shows us with David & Carolyn - Pascoe's godparents

 

 

 

Wednesday 30 June 2021

Preparations for a holiday


In the last fifteen months of intermittent lockdown, we have become more connected to our home. As we think about going away for a week, in the summer, we discover just how much.  The prospect of leaving certain things untended is harder, the list of favours that we have to ask of friends and neighbours longer.

Our doves have grown habituated to Nigel’s presence in the back garden.  They crowd round him, ostensibly to be fed, but primarily for his bird-talk, a stream of idle chat suited to domestic fowl.   When on holiday, we can arrange for them to be fed, but who will keep them up to date with the news? 

Likewise, a young friend from church has agreed to water the plants, but they will surely miss our coaching and encouragement.  I’m sure they will continue to photosynthesise without us, but they will lack enthusiasm.

As for the dozens of wild birds who visit our garden, they may never forgive us.  Our regular supply of seed and suet has already helped them raise one brood.  How could we leave them at what is a critical moment for their second brood?

But our young friend has agreed to re-fill the feeders for us.

So we can leave our house for just a little while and spend some time with our own brood.

Monday 21 June 2021

Father's Day heroism



We don’t make as much of a fuss about Father’s Day as we do about Mother’s Day.

Mainly because, unlike me, Nigel is not willing to sulk or throw full-scale tantrums.  He also fails to start signalling Father’s Day six weeks in advance as I do for Mother’s Day.  And the little hints about an outing are altogether absent.

What an amateur!  It’s almost like he expects somebody else to arrange it all for him.

This Father’s Day, Carenza organised a gift from all the offspring – an ‘oscillating hoe’ for the garden.  It took longer to unwrap it than it did to weed the entire veg patch with it.  What a find!  My garden gnomes looked on, hiding their admiration only with difficulty.

Pascoe sent one of his very creative cards (see below) this time made from an apple.

But on Father’s Day itself, Pascoe was in Edinburgh and Carenza in Cornwall, so it was on Perran’s shoulders that the task of celebrating fell.

He arrived early as we were coming back from church.  But when we hugged him, he winced.  I made us a pot of coffee and asked Perran for his news, but he wasn’t quite himself. 

He had been vaccinated only the day before, had a very sore arm and was under the weather.

However, he brightened our Sunday for several hours, joining us for lunch and recounting his and Carenza’s recent flat move.  Eventually we packed him off home to recuperate.

But he is definitely our Father’s Day hero.






Saturday 12 June 2021

What Matters Most of All

 


It feels weird that the G7 Summit is taking place in my home county of Cornwall.

It feels even weirder that I am not there.

Because there is so much to protest about.

And we may not have the right to peaceful protest for much longer as the Government attempts to bring in the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Bill, 2021.

Even though we didn’t manage to get there this time, it is heartening to see the imaginative banners, slogans, sculptures and singing being broadcast from Cornwall by Extinction Rebellion amongst others.

Carbis Bay is a beautiful place and this is the most beautiful time of year.  If we don’t want these wonderful things to be damaged beyond repair, the G7 leaders must act rapidly and decisively to halt climate catastrophe.  As individuals we can contribute by changing our lifestyles, but only government policies are capable of bringing deep change swiftly.

So whether you are in beautiful Cornwall or not, do pray that our leaders open their ears.

Climate and Ecological Emergency Bill – please help your planet

Please follow the links below (which will take you swiftly and easily through to your MP’s email) and ask your MP to support the Climate and Ecological Emergency Bill which will be debated during this session of Parliament.

Find everything you need to take part here: https://digitalrebellion.uk/cee-bill

 

Photo credits:

Photo above comes from a group of pics by: Gareth Morris, Guy Reece, Jessica Kleczka, Tristian Herbert, Chris Jerrey, Joao Daniel Pereira.

Saturday 5 June 2021

All our Christmases came at once

 




One of the worst days of 2020 for me was when we decided to comply with the sudden rule change and not have the twins home for Christmas.  It wasn’t great for them either.  It meant that the last time the whole family had been together was a day in early October when we celebrated my birthday at Kew.

I tried to have a sense of proportion – as a family we haven’t suffered any Covid death. My work has decreased as a result of Covid, but Nigel and the children are all in jobs.  We’ve been very lucky.  But even so, I did miss seeing our children.

For me this has opened a window on the way WWII was for so many – feeling sad but determined not to grumble as it would be disrespectful to others who had sustained much greater losses.

However, although I had tried to cultivate a balanced outlook, when, finally, after eight months, we all got to spend the weekend together, it meant a great deal. 

Excellent weather gilded the weekend.  As we walked in the countryside, the hedgerows were at the peak of their loveliness with their lace trim of cow parsley and stitchwort, and beyond, the yellow rape flowers Van-Goghed the fields.

But I would have been happy, even if it had poured down.



Thursday 27 May 2021

Back in the Jug Again


Nigel was on the wrong side of the law again on Thursday, at City of London Magistrates Court.

Back in September 2020 he got arrested as part of the Extinction Rebellion Protest outside the Houses of Parliament.

The occasion had been the first hearing of the Climate and Ecological Emergency Bill, tabled by Caroline Lucas.  It is an attempt to take measures to stem irreversible climate catastrophe but the Government is against it.   By protesting outside parliament, the hope was to appeal to the consciences of MPs so they might support it.

Nigel sat peacefully in the road and refused to move onto the grassy area where the police were containing protesters in circumstances which made Covid social distancing almost impossible.

In court our lawyer tried out some new tactics and arguments.  Nigel, as always, pleaded ‘Necessity’ – he did something a bit wrong in order to prevent a greater harm – i.e. global heating and the deaths of millions.  But, the judge was disposed to find Nigel guilty.  His sentence was a suspended fine.

However, we got hit with high court costs – a new way of deterring Climate Activists from peaceful protest.

The Government plans to make things even harder with the Police, Crime, Sentencing & Courts Bill, 2021, currently being rushed through Parliament.  It means that next time Nigel (or anybody else) sits down in the road as part of a peaceful protest, he could be given a ten year prison sentence. 

Due to climate factors, we have cut out air travel to foreign countries.  But this monstrous Police Bill will give us the opportunity to experience what it is like to live in Hong Kong or mainland China!


Thursday 20 May 2021

Exam Season

 
 It's not the exam season - it's the teacher assessed grades season. The children are not sitting exams but assessments.

My memory of this time of year is having to choose between the streaming eyes of hayfever and medication which made me fall asleep.  I chose hayfever.

Nowadays the medication is much better.
However, what has not changed for the pupils is that this is the most beautiful time of the year, intersecting with some of the most exciting years of their lives and  here they are stuck in an exam room.
 Sorry, an assessment room.

And yet, most pupils don't really wrestle with a subject until they approach exam revision.  Maybe having that hard-won feeling of mastery over an area of knowledge makes it all  worthwhile?

 Certainly when I asked that question in class last week, one pupil said yes.

And for a class full of teenagers that is a high percentage of positive responses.

Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

Saturday 15 May 2021

Making the most of Dystopia


 
The last person time I went into London, before the Winter Lockdowns, it had been to meet Annabel.

We had an interesting day and couldn’t wait to do it again.

Except Lockdown meant we had to!

We finally met again on Thursday.  Had we waited one more week, museums and galleries would have been open. One more week and the streets would have been more buzzy.

However, we would have missed a slightly surreal day drifting around the unpeopled City of London, and picking out its history.

Outside the Guild of Cutlers’ hall, we admired a beautifully executed frieze showing the art of cutlery making and were given free guide books by a (probably bored) custodian. 

A Norman Foster building was being refurbished and we tiptoed across a flower-bed in order to press our noses to the glass and examine the amazing green wall being installed in the atrium.  Seeing a man inside watching us, we thought we were about to get in trouble, but instead he let us in and told us all about it – turns out he was the project manager.

It was easy to find an outdoor table for lunch, and to take our time.

Even next week, people in the City will not be at leisure as they were on Thursday.  It will return gradually to frenzy. 

So I’m glad we took the opportunity to explore Dystopia.

I identified a possible Covid health risk here.

Saturday 8 May 2021

Naughty Wildlife


Wildlife is good and we should make more space for it.

That's the mantra.
And of course I agree with it.
However, wildlife doesn't always respect our boundaries.

We love our garden and have designated areas for wildlife, such as the pond, the bird feeders and the bug houses. But recently some animal has been failing to read the signs - our lawn is dotted with yellow dinner-plate-sized patches.  The grass is dead where something has been weeing on it.
Similarly my parents love feeding the birds and keep the bird food in the side passage inside a sturdy plastic bin whose lid is secured by two strong rubber bungees.  Lately, at night, something has been efficiently removing the bungees and eating the bird food. 

We don’t think it’s a robin.

Our unruly specimen of wildlife turned out to be a mangy urban fox which marks our lawn as its territory.  Since it has also been seen bringing its cubs round to salivate over our pet doves, we felt less than amicable and moved the bird bath which used to help it jump our fence.

 When my Dad met their burglar, however, it turned out to be a very winsome badger.  Dad sounded rather charmed by it.  Perhaps I should see if I can get on the internet and buy them some badger food.  They can keep it in that handy plastic bin.