Middle of September (already!)

Finally, Becki and Mark (in a rather nice 2010 Volvo), came rolling round the bend and into our layby. First time they’d seen Rhos Hill, but then we both moved countries at the same time; Becki to Antibes and us to Ceredigion. 

I’m so glad they both like our cottage...in fact Becki said it was the cosiest, friendliest house she’d ever been in (that was what you said, wasn’t it Bex?). We showed them to their cosy bedroom and then served them roast chicken (Mark rubbing his hands in glee) and salad/new spuds from the garden.  It was the following morning, once it was light, that they saw the garden, and were able to admire the view from Rhos Hill. Then Jim dragged them over to the field so that they could see the polytunnel. It is absolutely bursting with food now, the leeks and lettuce are shooting up, and the brasiccas look good too. The new potatoes are looking wonderfully healthy – like show specimens. They’ll be ready way before Christmas, but there are two outdoor rows that will be a little slower and probably be dug up in December. Meanwhile, we’ve got our Japanese and red onions in, and one bulb of garlic in a pot.  

Mark had a hankering to see Cardigan Bay, so we took them to Poppit Sands by way of Newcastle Emlyn, where we had lunch in the Bunch of Grapes. There we met the two men who take away our rubbish...very intimate relationship! and one of them runs the building supplies yard down the road from the pub – as usual the Tiefy network worked well and we were soon being offered a discount. 

Later on, we ate at La Calabria, where we bumped into Tiefy Evens, the man who runs the nearest farm to Rhos Hill in the direction of Rhydlewis. The following day, after Mark and Becki had gone, he came round to our house and invited us to take a look at his farm. This was the first farm we’d walked around since arriving and it was very educational...especially the marvellous conversions he’d done on a couple of barns, which now look utterly Country Homes and, in fact, are B&Bs...our closest.

Tiefy has 400 milking cows and also specializes in pork; he breeds only the local Welsh Pig, an almost white animal. We saw several sows suckling big litters and got quite excited about one day putting a couple of weaners at the bottom of the  field. Meanwhile, next week, the man who will lay the base for the garage is bringing is equipment and materials, so it’s all systems go for the next stage in the game.

It was lovely having Mark and Becki here, but we will see them again very shortly; we’re going over to Antibes on the 23^rd September for the long weekend, to celebrate a trio of birthdays; Joe’s, Bex’s and Mark’s dad’s big zero. 

Beginning of September

As autumn encroaches by being alternatively hot-cold-warm-blowy, I’ve been turning to herbal remedies. Up to now, apart from the odd pot of spearmint tea, we haven’t done anything further than pour through our herbal handbooks, which range from James Wang to Anne Franklin to beautifully illustrated old herbals. But when I went down with a gastric flu-type bug (8 days after Jim retired under the duvet and didn’t reappear until he was better) it took me three miserable days to recover. Of course, I found it impossible to stay in bed, and instead made Jim’s life even more of a misery by moaning all over the sofa. 

As I reached convalescence,I took a steady walk round the garden and gathered a bowlful of different tonic herbs; dandelion, nasturtium leaf and nettle to cleanse the system, lady’s mantle, which is very gentle on it, lemon balm and rosemary to boost the mind and fennel, along with some root ginger from the salad box, to settle the stomach. I made a tea which lasted all day and actually tasted...great! Call it co-incidence, but that awful, bone-achy, trembly feeling that was the last of the flu disappeared as I drank it by the cupful.

I’ve also made my first small batch of hawthorn syrup, which is specifically known to steady the heart and lower B.P. I’m on hypertensives, and won’t be giving those up for a while, but I decided to take no medications when I had the flu (would have brought them up...sorry...to much info...), but the syrup was easy to digest and tastes of blackberries sprinkled with sugar. (honest!) It also looks a treat; just like a syrup for kid’s coughs might. To make it, I'd boiled washed hawthorn berries in their weight of water and mashed, allowed to rest, then strained and added sugar to boil to a syrup. What I should have taken - as soon as I realized Jim was ill - was echinacea, but we haven’t got round to planting it yet! Even as a tablet, it works best if you take it when bugs threaten...that tickle at the back of the throat. It’s a great zapper and works best if it’s not taken long term. I also read that elderberry works a treat as a bug zapper, if taken in the same way...what an excellent excuse for making and drinking wine. 

       

We met the wine judge when we went to the Llanddarog Show last week. We were down in that area because that is where we have found a small joiners who make windows and doors from solid oak, and wanted to view their products. But the show was so lovely...simple joys, like trying to throw the ruby ball through the hole, and trying to manoeuvre a massive tractor around a maze. As always, there were sweet little dogs refusing to walk around their ring, and proud little ponies, only too happy to trot around theirs. There were cattle being led by lads who hardly came up to their horns and pens of persil-white sheep, each breed with a different but equally comical face. 
It was in the refreshments tent that, we met the judge of the homemade wine section. He was an older fellow who had made country wines all his life. His tip for enjoying them was...take your time...look for clarity. But he also recommended that the drinker should not think of them as a substitute for a bottle from Tesco's, or they were bound to be disappointed (come to think of it, I'm often disappointed by the bottle from Tesco's...), but rather, a totally different drink experience. He was now soaking up a cup of tea and piece of cake to help the results of his judging, before being driven home by his son!

I thought up a simple solution to the problem of the travellers of Dale Farm. Instead of throwing them out and then trying to rehouse them peace meal, they could offer them the price of the land they bought plus the sort of ‘sweetener’ people get when they need to be rehoused because the motorway is going to plough through their semi. I know the council do not have to do this, but it would cost less and get rid of the problem without involving angry protest and possible police injury. Travellers like to stick together, but they’re dreadful at doing the socially civil citizen thing. What they are good at is freedom...handing them a good enough wad of money might encourage them to move on peacefully, if tackled diplomatically. I won't move down the argument any further...of course, it would be sensible if they spent their jackpot of living close together legally and without bothering the neigbours, but that's almost entering fairlyland thinking. I'd be interested in other people's views on this.

I don’t want to stand on any side of the argument. I should agree decidedly with those who are saying that if you don’t go through planning permission for your house, you are living there illegally...end of story. Jim and I are in the middle of applying for planning, and the idea of going ahead with an extension without doing so is preposterous...isn’t it?  Yet, in the early days of house-hunting, knowing that a house in the middle of a big garden was financially impossible anywhere in our own area, we did toy with building our own house on a purchased plot. It soon became clear that land with PP was almost as much as houses with big gardens...and buying land without PP was a massive risk...as these travellers have discovered. We saw a couple of little ‘log cabin’ type houses on acres of land where PP hadn't been granted but the residents had an address and were not being harassed...yet. We also thought about buying a field where we could have erected a static caravan. On your own land, you can live for a short while, to tend necessary livestock, such as chickens. But you have to prove that your business will fail (so it has to be a business!) before you can even apply to build residential status on agricultural land. The idea was tempting, like most cock-eyed dreams are. If we had done it, would we have been any better than the travellers? And would we have been safe? As is now clear, councils usually get round to tearing down buildings they haven’t told people they can put up in the first place. 

I’m up and about again now, by the way. And I’ve almost finished my second crime novel. So if anyone would like to read the completed draft, all they have to do is say, and they will find an attachment in their email box before they can say...knife...