Tonight's Sky

The sunset tonight seemed so peaceful. The colours were very dramatic, making me wonder whether there is some solar activity way up in the atmosphere

The sheep seemed to be enjoying the peace.

It's almost dark now, so we'll see in the next hour or so whether we're going to get some colours in the sky like we had the other night.

Still Learning...

I've just been for a walk with Jackson. It's a gorgeous morning with blue skies, and, despite the strong winds, it was warm.... *warm*, I say... on our walk. Now, I don't want y'all telling anyone but I actually ran part of the way. 


Erm... well, I'm not sure it was technically running. It was maybe a jog, or a canter. Anyway, it was more than walking, and I did it. 


For all of about 20 yards. Thankfully, nobody saw the efforts. As a result, I can kid y'all on that it was:
a) effortless, 
b) it was actually running, 
c) it was elegant, and 
d) it was fast.


Of course, it was actually


e) none of the above. 


Moving on....


Yesterday was not a good day in the greenhouse. This...

is what I found on the peppers and chillis.

It's grey mould and it's affected almost all the pepper and chilli plants.

It'll be because the weather has been so damp, and, although there is ventilation inside the glass 'cage', the plants were simply not getting the opportunity to dry nicely.

Overwatering.

Yet another lesson learnt.

Porch Chatting - of Kitchens, Clutter and the Fall

I'm so glad to be able to join you again, Patrice. These past couple of weeks have been really hectic, so it's nice for me to kick off my shoes, and have a swing and a chat on your porch. I'm busy with some translation work just now, and that's why my blog posts have been less frequent over the past while. How come deadlines can seem years away one month, and then, all of a sudden, they're on top of you? Ah, such is life, I guess.


Anyway, on to your questions, Patrice.




1. Would you rather cook or clean house?


Oh, cook, any day! Our kitchen actually seldom stops cooking. The upside of that is that it feels the way a family kitchen ought to feel; but the downside is that our kitchen never, ever looks tidy. The worktop is always full. It may have baking ingredients, bowls and whisks on it, whilst at the same time holding chopping boards and vegetables, waiting to be made into soup. 


And then there are books because so much of our homeschooling takes place at the kitchen table. And papers, because there may be unopened, or unanswered mail; newspapers that are partly read, but being kept because 'I want to read that interesting article later' (later may mean a whole week away, and by then, my eye may have taken notice of another half-dozen 'interesting articles', all waiting to be read later).


And then there may be bits and bobs that the Builder has left on my worktop. Bits of tools that may, or may not, be valuable. Either way, I cannot throw them out, lest I chuck away 'twenty quids worth' of thing. And so I have to leave them, often buried under the aforementioned newspapers, afraid to move them to a 'safer place' for fear of never finding them again.


One day, I say to myself. One day, this will be tidy. I will actually clear up after a meal, and it will be tidy for a whole few hours until the next meal begins. And then I realise that this day will probably come when my kids have flown the nest. And then I quickly place that thought well and truly in the recesses of my mind, and I suddenly grow to love my clutter.


Er, Patrice.... What was the question again?


Oh yes, cook or clean? Yep, answer is cook. 




2. Who do you resemble in your family?


Oh dear. I am so like my Mum. I actually have some of Dad's characteristics too (quite a number, really), but I am growing more and more like my Mum. I even catch myself with certain expressions, and I realise, 'Anne, that was completely Mum'. It's okay until the Builder has to live with the fact that his wife is turning into his mother-in-law. These are not pleasant thoughts for the poor guy...


I have my Mum's height (okay, lack of height) and her mannerisms. But many of my interests would be more like my Dad's - history, politics, football. 


Catherine and I were in town a few weeks ago, and we met a couple who Mum and Dad have known since they were young. Catherine had never met them, and I wasn't sure whether they'd recognize me - I hadn't seen them for years and years. When I spoke to the lady, I said, 'Do you remember me?'. 


'Oh, Anne, yes of course. And even if we didn't, you're as like your mother!'. She then turned to look at Catherine and said, 'This is definitely your daughter. She's as like your Mum too'.


I almost had to pick Catherine off the ground. She can just about live with being told she's like her Mum constantly. But like her Granny! To 16 year olds, grannies are old. OLD! How can I be like Granny?!


Never mind, she didn't get our height, so she can claim something from her Daddy.




3. Have you tried e-books yet?


No, I haven't. I guess I will sometime, but I cannot imagine loving them like I love books. Reading off a screen is fine for short articles, or stories, but a whole book? Mmmm... that doesn't appeal to me, to be honest.


4. Do you collect anything?


You mean apart from clutter? Nope.


5. What's your favourite Fall tradition?


Well, we don't do the Fall like you do it across the Pond. I would love it if we did, but as you know, our seasons just don't behave like yours do. We have no 'fall colours' around us, so it just doesn't have the same feel to it for us. However, one of the homeschooling families get us altogether for Reformation Day every October. You can read about last year's day here. That's a great day for us, and there is so much work put into the day. Us mums normally learn more than the kids!

Here's a photo of our cast from last year.

We also have our Bonfire Night in November. Again, you can read about last year's here.

Just one of the photos from last year's Bonfire post

Although these days have nothing to do with the Fall, as such, they do fall in our Autumn, so maybe they can count. 


It would be absolutely wonderful to be in Canada or in some of your states for the Fall. One day, Builder... maybe one day!

Aurora Borealis

I've just taken these photos out our Family Room window.

Aurora Borealis...

Cranes, Diggers, and Fascinated Little Boys

This is my sister's house.

She, her hubby and family live here. They are in town. Therefore, they have trees.

This digger in the foreground, needs to find its way into their back garden, and there is only one route possible.

This crane...

is being steadied...

and readied...

is being stretched...

and hooked...

to hoist the digger over the house,

right over the house,

and into the back garden.

These guys were good. Really good.

No swinging; no mistakes; no panic. Just up, over the house, and into the perfect position in the back garden.

When they were done with the first digger, another had to have the same treatment.

It looks kinda like a dinky toy, doesn't it...

And into the back garden,

brought down perfectly between the washing line poles.

All in a day's work for these guys. 

Watching the action were three enthralled little boys.

See this wee guy closest. 

Here are his feet.

Isn't he just adorable. If his dad hadn't been there, keeping a watchful eye on him, I could quite easily have taken him home with me. 

And so, another photo of something you don't see on my blog every day.

Trees.

Aye, easily seen I was in town today.

Sit on the Porch, and Sing along with Me... a name I call myself...

Do you have pierced ears?

Oh dear, this question is a bit like the 'pink hair' one. I do have pierced ears. Most days, I don't wear any earrings now, but occasionally, when I'm dressing up, I wear some studs.

But around the time of the pink hair, I pierced one of my ears three times, and the other twice. Most of these holes are closed now (I assume), so only one remains in each.


Let's move on. Quickly, before my kids see this.

Do you have a porch?

Is that a serious question? 


Er, have a look at our weather, Patrice.

Actually, we do have what we call a porch, but it's got a front door, four walls and windows. In other words, it's totally enclosed, so not what you guys call a porch.

If you could have a wish for someone you know, what would that be?


Well, my parents have their Golden Anniversary next year. If I could wave your magic wand, Patrice, I'd transport them to Vancouver and give them the train ride that crosses Canada.

Just imagine.... through Banff

It's about the only 'abroad experience' my Dad would fancy, but it'd take your magic wand to do it. He doesn't do planes.

There are less than 100 days to Christmas. Have you started shopping yet or doing anything to prepare?


Nope. I've decided to become Jewish for the next few months.




What song is going through your head lately? If you aren't being pestered by a particular song, then what are you likely to sing or hum while you work?


Doh, a deer, a female deer; Ray, a drop of golden sun; Me, a name I call myself...


No kidding. Catherine came across a photo of Diana, Princess of Wales and commented on her doe-eyed expression. That's where it all began.


You can blame Catherine, although she has posted on Facebook her desire for someone to adopt her mother. Clearly, she doesn't appreciate my Julie Andrews sing-along.


It may of course be because I don't quite sound like Julie Andrews.


Oh well.... Doh, a deer, a female deer, tra-la-la-la-la la la....

Saturday's Fank

On Saturday, my niece had her 7th birthday.


Her Mum - my sister - was taking her and some cousins and friends ten-pin bowling, but the Wee Guy worked at the sheep with Big Brother all day. 


All. Day. 


So, while this wee girl readied herself for blowing out her candles...

(are you seeing her ear? That was her present, and boy, was she chuffed!)

...the Wee Guy spent his day here.

Here he is with Big Brother, discussing the day's strategy.

Or maybe, it was what they had for breakfast they were comparing. Apart from sheep, and the merits of Border Collies, food is one of their favourite subjects.

There they are in the middle of the photo, ready for the opening of gates for their own sheep.

The Wee Guy would say, 'Yours', and BB would duly open his gate to let another of his sheep in.

'Nope'

'Yours!'

And in it comes.

This was the first time I'd seen this happening, and by the time I'd spent my morning a few minutes there, I reckoned I could have done it myself.

Of course, I didn't offer. I didn't want to show them up.

Ahem. Moving on...

The sheep get moved up here, over there, into here, out of there, and down through here.

Did you get that?

Good, cos I haven't a clue.

Until, just before I left, I realised they were coming down the passage and the different owners opened their own gates to allow their own in.

I had always wondered how on earth they took all the sheep from the machair into the fank, and were able to doze their own, pedicure their own, and separate them into their own fields if that's what they were wanting to do.

Now I know!

And now to a selection of some of the sheep.

They must be twins.

'Oi, are you girls twins?'

"Ignore her. Just turn away, and she'll leave us alone."

So I did.

Remember Jenny Miracle. Here she is in all her splendour.

I don't know what these are, but their white faces and colourful markings make them look like ready-made jumpers. (Er, 'jumper' is a sweater to you guys over The Pond)

Aren't these guys lookers?

Now, wait til I see if I get this right? I reckon they are Blue-faced Leicester on Cheviots.

'A Chairstiona - am I right?'

She's not answering me, but I'll correct it later if I'm wrong. Not that, when it comes to sheep, I'm likely to be wrong, of course. I mean, I knew what they were anyway. I didn't need their owner to be standing beside me on Saturday telling me. 

Yes, well, moving on...

Coming towards the end of the sorting...

...and the last lot are being guided (for 'guided', read 'scrambled') up through this gate, where they will hang around in the waiting room until it's their turn.

Boy! I could do this myself the next time. 

Yeah. Wot-evah