Skip to main content

It's April already!

Daddy Woodpecker fetching baby for his dinner on my feeders.

It's April, already, where did the past few months go? I had forgotten this blog and started another, I have so many blogs I have forgotten the password to, I reckon they all sit in a holding area, bit like a Lost Blog Office, all waiting for their owners to pick them up and add to again.  Poor forlorn blogs, I hope to not lose this one.

We have been busy, I haven't been crafting as much as i like, mainly my illness, a lot of sloth and I have been distracted by my Harp. Mr. T, wonderful man that he is, bought me a harp for my 60th birthday. I have a violin and a saxophone, but as my illness weakens my neck muscles and lungs, my wrists and fingers get stiff, making music on these becomes more and more painful and difficult. 

I love making music, it isn't perfect, I am no maestro, but there is something so very relaxing about making tunes. So, he went out and got me a Celtic Lap Harp, to be honest you would need a very large lap to hold it, it isn't too big for a lap, too small for freestanding, so I prop it up on a footstool, lean it into my shoulder and play away.  A harp just relies on you being able to pluck out a tune and off you go.  I make a lot up, I sit like Yoko Ono plucking away and singing made up Japanese nonsense.  The cat hates it, the dogs just leave the room, but, oddly enough, the pheasants love it and come into the garden, sit under the window and make pheasant noises.  They might be yelling, shut the F up, in pheasant speak. Either way, they flock like groupies to sit under the window.

There are few male pheasants left after the shoots last year, I see them having little fights over the females. They bash their chests together, go through some weird stand off dance until one is the winner and the loser goes to find a new field to rule over. It is fascinating, they are truly beautiful birds, but truly stupid too. They are also trying to woo my hens, the roosters aren't too happy, there is enough rooster testosterone floating about to float a navy, they don't need anymore competition from a showy pheasant.  The hens ignore them, unless they have a snail, which is hen world equivalent of a diamond. It is fascinating to watch the pecking order, but right now at 4 in the morning, noisy as hell. All the cock a doodle do'ing is cock a doodle doing my head in.

Now is time for a cup of tea, a time to go outside in my coat and watch the world wake up, I love waiting for the sunrise, would rather be asleep, but insomnia has some advantages. I get to see the swans glide by as they make their way to the nearby loch.  The glide by, about 40 of them, making the occasional honk and float across the sky, about 10 feet off the ground looking super cool and a bit spooky. Till next time ...




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Beginnings

The Cappieshill, the ancient barrow mound across the road from my gate. Welcome to a blog about my life, my home, my pets, my hobbies, my learning to live a new life with an autoimmune disease and about Just Life. I am Brenda, I live with my husband Paul, our two chocolate Labrador dogs, maggie or Madam Madpants, Mister Jones Esquire, The Mister our F4 Savannah cat, Ralph the rooster and his women. We live rurally in a beautiful part of NE Scotland, we are both Welsh, but love and call this place home. I aim to post often, hope you find it interesting enough to follow, feedback, comment and come back again and again.

2018 I wonder what's in store

Well Hello 2018, when I was young 2018 seemed like forever away. I always imagined that after 2000 we would be wearing tin foil catsuits, little ankle boots and everyone would have platinum blonde hair cut in a very sharp bob.  We would be flying around on little jet ski type things and food would come out of a machine you hit buttons to order in your kitchen.  Obviously I was influenced by Lost in Space and Blakes Seven. I never for one moment imagined home computers, iphones and people glued to their phones all the time, I never imagined snap chat, Face time or text messages.  Don't know that I think humanity has really benefitted from them, I loved getting proper letters with paper and ink, I enjoyed ringing someone just for a chat and I hate that when you go anywhere people are forever looking down at their phones instead of up at people's faces. I came out of Marks the other day (that's M&S, not a bloke called Mark) and, as I am wont to do, smiled at...
It is 3 days before Christmas, the house is decorated, the tree is all sparkly with lights, baubles and my old Venetian chandelier, which I have used as drops to catch the light. Atop the tree sits Pamela, she has sat on every tree since as long as I can remember and I am 59. Pamela has new wings, but has lost an arm over the years. Yet she still sits there in charge of the tree and all that is on it. I love that she has seen all the Christmases of my youth, the excitement of me and my brother Trevor getting up at 4 in the morning, excited to see the few gifts my parents could afford and very happy to get a pillowcase full. I used to love the felt tip pens, the pencils, the colouring in books, the plastic dolls that one year had one that could walk and talk. The three wheelers then bicycles and the stocking with tangerine, selection box, chocolate coins in their little net bags and sweet tobacco sweets. One year a doll's house, that I loved, complete with little lights and fu...