tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51993422693200069962024-02-18T18:06:19.524-08:00Thoughts from a DormouseGillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-26233023235231971712012-11-13T08:06:00.000-08:002012-11-13T08:06:49.111-08:00An Otter Blog<br />
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I promised that I would write a blog about the otters and
fisheries conference I went to in Edinburgh, but as I haven’t said anything
about otters here before I thought I would start at the beginning.</div>
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I have an early memory of my father, who is a keen trout
fisherman, showing me an otter kill at the side of a reservoir. It made a great impression on me, so I must
have realised at the time it was something very special (this would have been
in the mid to late 60’s when otters were in serious decline). </div>
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As a teenager my
fascination grew, I read ‘Ring of Bright Water’ by Gavin Maxwell and then went
on to read his other books as well. I
have always been interested in wildlife of all kinds, but never expected to see
an otter until I visited Shetland with David, my husband, in the early years of
our marriage. Everyone said they were
about, and told us where to see them, but despite walking the shores of the sea
loch near our cottage every evening we never came across one. To be honest, I didn’t have a clue about how
to find them or what signs to look out for; I like to think I would be luckier
now.</div>
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About 15 years, and two children later, on the evening of
24<sup>th</sup> May 2005, David came home with a very expensive bat detector. I wasn't best pleased but I decided there wasn't much point in making a fuss (I'm very glad now that I didn't). We rounded up the children and went the local lake to try it out. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backwell Lake</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Backwell Lake is next to a busy road near Nailsea
and Backwell Railway Station.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">It's well
used by dog walkers and there are a lot of well fed ducks and swans.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">It's also home to six species of bats.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">We walked to the bridge at the end of the
lake opposite the car park and stood there waiting for the ‘Daubies’ to skim
the surface of the lake in their search for insects.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">We hadn't been there for more than a couple of
minutes when a broad head popped out of the water about 10 metres away from us.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">I went through a mental check list. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">‘It’s an
otter’, I said calmly, then, as realisation swept over me ‘bloody hell, it’s an otter!!!’ </span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Almost
immediately it headed towards the reeds at the edge of the lake and porpoised
silently under the water.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">My last
impression was the arch of a back and the broad base of a tail. </span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">When we realised it wasn't going to re-appear,
we turned round and looked at the stream flowing into the lake.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">There was a trail of mud stirred up from the bottom showing where the otter has swum right under the bridge while we had been standing there.</span></div>
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I had absolutely no idea that there were otters in North
Somerset, let alone on a lake so close to a town. Apparently neither had anyone else, no-one would believe me! Eventually I was put in touch with James
Field of The Avon Wildlife Trust. He told
me that Wessex Water workers regularly saw otters on the lake when they made early morning visits, and asked if I would like to join the North Somerset
Otter Group.</div>
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I trained as an otter surveyor and surveyed a small brook
on Nailsea Moor for several years. I
chose it because it was within walking distance of home. I couldn’t believe that
such a small stream could support an otter but I found spraint on my first
visit. I grew to love surveying my patch and was over
the moon when, on one occasion, I found clear mother and cub footprints under
one of the bridges. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favourite bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Otter Spraint on a Ledge - textbook!</td></tr>
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Eventually I volunteered to help co-ordinate the otter
group, which was part of the North Somerset Levels and Moors Project. In 2010, when the funding for the project
dried up Kiri, my co-worker, and I decided to try to run the group
independently. It wasn’t easy on our
own, but eventually YACWAG, a local wildlife organisation with several reserves
near Yatton and Congresbury offered to take us under their wing.</div>
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We decided to re-launch as the YACWAG Otter Group. James Williams from The Somerset Otter Group
kindly agreed to speak at our first meeting and over 100 people came. Forty signed up as surveyors and we ran a
series of training events.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Survey Training Session - Photo Sarah Pitt</td></tr>
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We now carry out monthly surveys and cover most of the
sites originally surveyed by the North Somerset Otter Group, as well as some
new areas. There are several still
water fisheries within our ‘patch’ and it wasn’t long before we became aware
that the return of the otter was not without it's problems. That's why, on Wednesday, Kiri and I found
ourselves at the IOSF Otters and Fisheries Conference in Edinburgh. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Otter Footprint clearly showing five toes, webbing and claws</td></tr>
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Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-24877517255103777142012-08-17T02:23:00.000-07:002012-08-17T02:38:57.582-07:00Jeffery BoswallI've been reading tributes to Jeffery Boswall, the first wildlife film maker I ever met, and a real local character, it's making me feel rather sad.<br />
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I clearly remember the first time I met him at 4am in Towerhouse Wood on a dawn chorus walk he was leading. He was wearing a traditional raincoat and immaculately polished brown brogues...<br />
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My other vivid memory is being interrogated on the phone for about 20 minutes when he heard I had seen a lesser spotted woodpecker in my garden. Once he had established to his satisfaction that I wasn't mistaken he told me that if it ever turned up again I must call him <b>immediately</b> as he had never seen one.<br />
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My daughter, who he had a soft spot for and always asked after, considered him to be a kind, but rather eccentric, elderly man. She was astonished when I told her yesterday just how eminent he was.<br />
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Although I haven't seen Jeffery for a long time, I will miss knowing he's there. I wonder if he ever did find that woodpecker?Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-89130518317878656782012-07-28T04:05:00.000-07:002012-07-28T04:05:54.625-07:00Early Morning by the River<div class="MsoNormal">
Amazed to find myself wide awake at 6.30am after having
stayed up to watch the Olympic Opening Ceremony (glad I did) I slipped down to
the river with Teazle this morning. It's lovely to get out early as somehow it
seems virtuous, and there's no sense of rush. It's also wonderful to feel so well, long may
it last!</div>
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It wasn't long before I found myself down on my knees
photographing an interesting hole that I hadn't noticed before. Having found water vole feeding remains by a
nearby rhyne a while ago I am sure they must be on the river too. I haven't
found anything definitive yet as the banks are very overgrown at the moment,
but this hole was a long way up the bank, close to the path, and so visible I
wondered how I have managed to overlook it. I had put my keys next to the hole
for scale, and was wondering whether it was the work of vole or rat, when my
reverie was interrupted by barking. Not
an unusual occurrence! I jumped up to grab Teazle and apologise to the poor dog
walker, who was probably just as startled by the muddy woman appearing from
nowhere as she was by the black Labrador trying hard to sound ferocious. We
chatted for a while, then I walked on. Fortunately
I decided to go back and have another look at the hole, I had completely
forgotten my keys and could have quite easily got all the way home before I
realised they were missing. Still not
quite sure about the architect - have a look and see what you think.</div>
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A bit further on I found a brood of small tortoiseshell
caterpillars on the riverside nettles that I regularly fall foul of. Good to see that the butterflies have managed
to bounce back a bit after the atrocious weather, but there still aren't nearly
as many around as there should be.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tortoiseshell butterfly caterpillars</td></tr>
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'My' otter is obviously still about, but I haven't seen any
spraint for ages. It makes me wonder if she is trying to be secretive. To be honest, although I think of her as a she
I don't actually know, it's just a hunch. I haven't seen her, although a local boy who
was grazing his ponies by the river did, about a month ago. From his description
she was a relatively small animal (a dog otter can be up to 4' long) but
definitely not a mink. I'm happy for
him, it's a wonderful experience for anybody, and I think he was pleased to
find someone that believed him, but I still can't help thinking it should have
been me...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rather more prickly teazle</td></tr>
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</div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-41512508735038650812012-07-02T14:01:00.000-07:002012-07-02T14:01:13.522-07:00Banded demoiselleThis afternoon I saw a banded demoiselle perched motionless in the wet grass, I held my finger close and the beautiful little insect climbed on and sat apparently unconcerned as I examined it closely. I patted my pocket with my free hand and mentally cursed as I realised I had left my camera at home.<div>
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Persistent heavy rain had been followed by fine drizzle and everything seemed to be taking advantage of the slight improvement in the weather. The buzzards were wheeling over the field below the woods, for once not bothered by crows, and house martins were swooping over the flooded soft rush after invisible insects, or dashing up the river in a manoeuvre that always reminds me of X-Wing fighters in a Star Wars bombing raid. </div>
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I caught an unmistakable whiff of fresh otter spraint as I walked back towards the broken sleeper bridge. I had a cursory look to see if I could find it, but the river bank was covered in nettles. She, I think it's a she, was seen late one evening, a couple of weeks ago, by a young lad who was grazing his ponies nearby, good to know she's still about. I've heard a lot of reports of otter sightings recently - one day it will be my turn.</div>
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<br /></div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-20053500661227355262012-07-01T12:51:00.000-07:002012-07-01T12:51:07.507-07:00Kestrel<br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">A bright windy afternoon after heavy rain, the river is bursting
its banks and Teazle, my black Labrador, is strangely reluctant to follow me
into the mini torrent that is flowing across the path at the kissing gate.
She isn't particularly confident with water considering her breed. She
loves to wallow up to her chest, but rarely goes any deeper, and avoids fast
flowing rivers and waves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I notice a kestrel
hovering over the field by the river. I watch it for a while with my
binoculars, hoping that Teazle doesn't take advantage of my temporary
preoccupation to wander off and eat, or roll in, something revolting.
It's a rather scruffy looking female, with a couple of tail feathers
missing, seeming to have some difficulty holding position in the wind.
I'm pleased to see her. Hopefully she's here to stay, the grass is long so
the hunting should be good. I love kestrels and she is the first I've seen here since late winter. In previous years they have been a regular sight, and I always keep an eye out for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I turn and walk
along the rhyne, resisting the temptation to part the bank side vegetation and
look for fresh water vole signs. I know they're there, and that's enough
for me. I'll leave them in peace for the time being and save myself from the
inevitability of being stung by hidden nettles. The meadowsweet is flowering, reminding me that it’s the first day of
July, hard to believe in this strange weather.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt;">I
walk up the path through the growing maize crop to the bottom of the wood
looking for fox and badger footprints as I go. The dog shoots off and I
have to call her back and put her on the lead to stop her from trampling over
the young plants.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">It's
surprisingly dark in the woods, the canopy has closed in and the beech leaves
have lost the translucence of spring. Shafts of sunlight pierce the
gloom. I hear a chiffchaff and realise that up to now the wood has been
silent. As I listen I hear a few notes from a distant blackbird, it's a while
before the song thrushes will start their evening chorus but, for
me, it's time to go home. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-74446897223787951382012-06-28T02:31:00.000-07:002012-06-28T02:31:30.273-07:00The World Keeps TurningSultry day, the strident trill of a wren cuts through the air like a knife. Banded demoiselles flap lazily by the river or perch on the grass, occasionally taking to the wing for a desultory dog fight. Had a long philosophical chat with the farmer. He thinks the land will go to developers, he doesn't want it to happen any more than I do, but he has no choice. He has worked there all his life and remembers the days when it took five men all night to achieve what now takes him a couple of hours in a tractor, no wonder there are so few jobs.<br />
<br />
The house martins are still collecting mud from their puddle, the word keeps turning...Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-27538783936927739852012-06-25T06:52:00.000-07:002012-06-25T06:52:47.780-07:00Country Diary of a 21st Century WomanI am absolutely hopeless at keeping up this blog! I started out with good intentions, as we all do, but that's about as far as it got. I think I know what the problem is, I am trying to make it perfect, interesting thoughtful pieces with beautiful well edited photographs. It just isn't going to happen! There are so many things that I wanted to say that have been left unwritten because I didn't have time to sit and compose that perfect prose. Important records have been lost in the Twittersphere or buried in my Facebook timeline - time for a different approach. From now on I am going to try to write about the things I see as I see them, not wait until my thoughts are finely polished and well illustrated. If no-one but me reads this it doesn't matter, but perhaps it will help me to remember when I saw the first swallow, and that sometimes (like today) the sun does shine and, just for the moment, all seems right with the world. Let's see how it goes...<br />
<br />
<b>House Martins</b><br />
I've always loved house martins but I've looked at them with a fresh eye since I read Stephen Moss' description of them as 'little killer whales' - I laughed at first, but I can see what he means! This morning, while I was walking the dog I took a few minutes to sit on a bridge in the sunshine and watch our local birds collecting mud from the edge of a big puddle by the gate, as they have done every year for as long as I can remember. They nest under the eaves of the houses just down the road from me and I see them every day in the summer as I walk down to the fields. I would love them to move a couple of hundred yards to my eaves, but it seem that, like me, they are creatures of habit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEcdn-wcIsuKb8Q4P396t9A_REgZqiC1iRZzMBJ52njK_4GxXMjrIk4iZxcSXynrJL3jRE2GJXh9Ml7qJ35dt9W5s6Ng1MJUXvXVH7I0pmGvMTCKh9zLbKHfwakBrxln9GC3XBCn69YY/s1600/P1160637_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEcdn-wcIsuKb8Q4P396t9A_REgZqiC1iRZzMBJ52njK_4GxXMjrIk4iZxcSXynrJL3jRE2GJXh9Ml7qJ35dt9W5s6Ng1MJUXvXVH7I0pmGvMTCKh9zLbKHfwakBrxln9GC3XBCn69YY/s320/P1160637_edited-1.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the bridge<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-4325370139680481242011-09-21T00:38:00.000-07:002011-09-21T00:38:41.241-07:00A simple change...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you look at our public open spaces what would you like
to see, a flower rich sward buzzing with life, or closely mown grass with no weeds?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At a time when there is increasing anxiety about loss of ‘biodiversity’
and in particular the decline in bees, which are of huge economic importance,
perhaps we should think about this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A simple change in the management of amenity grassland could
allow the regeneration of wild flowers which, in turn, would increase the
pollen and nectar available for bees, butterflies, and other less charismatic,
but equally important, invertebrates.<span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If the blades of cutters were adjusted so that they were
never lower than about 2’’ (except in the areas where there is good reason for
the grass to be kept shorter such as sports pitches) low growing species such
as clovers and trefoils would be able to set seed.<span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a perception in some quarters that the public would
be resistant to such a change, but I am not so sure.<span> </span>Perhaps now is the time to open the debate –
what do you think?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For more information, pictures, and a link to a petition go
to <a href="http://wildsoundscape.co.uk/index.php?itemid=81&catid=16">http://wildsoundscape.co.uk/index.php?itemid=81&catid=16</a></div>
Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-55687416471499902272011-05-11T04:28:00.000-07:002011-05-11T04:28:48.175-07:00Meniere’s disease – one year on<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbr7LCCmcU0cJ3lv7nFy6LJYqg8SwSDIRu8vcGJLZBPzgN-IGpYF60gQj334RW0MsK-A1BpDFVO-HOC037tKFdOJ7QtV9mGRiKDgVEvkFJLH-PRylZP8nAsPaKfuH_J1Ie6Zj2QxpIao/s1600/06+09+09_Half+Marathon_6663_edited-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbr7LCCmcU0cJ3lv7nFy6LJYqg8SwSDIRu8vcGJLZBPzgN-IGpYF60gQj334RW0MsK-A1BpDFVO-HOC037tKFdOJ7QtV9mGRiKDgVEvkFJLH-PRylZP8nAsPaKfuH_J1Ie6Zj2QxpIao/s320/06+09+09_Half+Marathon_6663_edited-2.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bristol Half Marathon 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">It’s been a year; a few days ago the renewal notice for my subscription to the Meniere’s Society dropped through the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m lucky really, I was diagnosed in 2002 but up to a year ago I only had a few isolated bouts of vertigo – ghastly when they came but manageable with Stemetil.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What is Meniere’s disease?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s different for everyone but has three main symptoms: vertigo, tinnitus and progressive hearing loss in the affected ear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’ve never had vertigo, imagine being blind drunk on a roller coaster and not being able to get off (and when it’s really, really, bad you can add food poisoning symptoms too). Fortunately for me these incidents are blessedly rare but I know if I ‘overdo it’ I’m on dangerous ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can cope with the tinnitus and, as it is one sided, I am only loosing hearing in my right ear.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The things I find hardest to cope with are the background feeling of dizziness and nausea when I am going through a ‘bad patch’ and the lack of energy, which is constant. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Inside I am still the woman who could walk 20 hilly miles with confidence, ran her first half marathon at 48, and had dreams of visiting the Amazon rainforest and trekking in the Himalaya’s before she was 60. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did the Commando Challenge to get over my fear of water so that I could go kayaking and possibly try scuba diving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZPoPxeMCGLNh-71KbdslwONLdHy3WG-1DXrSfuSpXi_9May-wEDFH7rE7CKBex6xnd79mfAr3w1Pogc6Eh6PQZeUtaEiUxgg-GEloEZJwaDLIKNpMOupwpuUR0ba5FyJkk2k-8luTaDI/s1600/10+10+09_Commando+Challenge+2009_7145_edited-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZPoPxeMCGLNh-71KbdslwONLdHy3WG-1DXrSfuSpXi_9May-wEDFH7rE7CKBex6xnd79mfAr3w1Pogc6Eh6PQZeUtaEiUxgg-GEloEZJwaDLIKNpMOupwpuUR0ba5FyJkk2k-8luTaDI/s400/10+10+09_Commando+Challenge+2009_7145_edited-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheep Dip - Commando Challenge 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-xikuecT3WJCsGJiWyK9wU4C5p-K6cPCaIJt-xYR15kuFXJQwI7G6Ga_f7H4H6boJUZe6UOZIg_tyFoKwk3UjwxzrLaupkmMZQ06mW34fpBxWC1wh2AU_Bx6aDvDXEZ56teQO306AqM/s1600/10+10+09_Commando+Challenge+2009_7154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-xikuecT3WJCsGJiWyK9wU4C5p-K6cPCaIJt-xYR15kuFXJQwI7G6Ga_f7H4H6boJUZe6UOZIg_tyFoKwk3UjwxzrLaupkmMZQ06mW34fpBxWC1wh2AU_Bx6aDvDXEZ56teQO306AqM/s320/10+10+09_Commando+Challenge+2009_7154.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Just because I can’t do those things now doesn't </div><div class="MsoNormal">mean I don’t want to!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have tried running again but a mile leaves me drained for the rest of the day and no good for anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It hurts when I see other people doing the things I used to do, but I try not to let it show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to give up!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryLjD3TqTu04SqVM81sprIiPLkD1T5MeLwz-KqWPqaWdJ0a6B2sMwd0T87CaQIzoni1a3o6IDBG0-TwrTUJQzywKQXKXQp7IBctkAl1j8BhQ7jinK97sG2STWVC9PoxEGO6YYGhYNWns/s1600/P1040112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryLjD3TqTu04SqVM81sprIiPLkD1T5MeLwz-KqWPqaWdJ0a6B2sMwd0T87CaQIzoni1a3o6IDBG0-TwrTUJQzywKQXKXQp7IBctkAl1j8BhQ7jinK97sG2STWVC9PoxEGO6YYGhYNWns/s320/P1040112.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy dormouse April 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">There is a plus side – many, many people are far worse off than I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can still walk in the woods, I can still take photographs, I like to have a wilderness for a garden and the neighbours don’t complain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can do some energetic things as long as I remember I will have to ‘pay back’ later. I have a wonderful husband and supportive friends. I don’t have a job so I am able to spend more time doing the things I love than I could ever do if I was stuck in an office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can spend my days walking with friends, chasing bugs, birds and butterflies and checking up on my dormice and otters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope I am there when people need me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfGdH489lUMeley8kMW45ReVvvzs-vn5-4RIurkv8RrACZ0L9fmbtUEzilAZSTHR-q9zqHz2e2jATbHMPNG9ZIkoqrDI_lasveOWoqfRN9GA24DlETrXG_yWOtlJhZfXqPkU6aLciUWo/s1600/P1040178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfGdH489lUMeley8kMW45ReVvvzs-vn5-4RIurkv8RrACZ0L9fmbtUEzilAZSTHR-q9zqHz2e2jATbHMPNG9ZIkoqrDI_lasveOWoqfRN9GA24DlETrXG_yWOtlJhZfXqPkU6aLciUWo/s400/P1040178.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Violet oil beetle April 2011</td></tr>
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</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I complain sometimes, but I have a rich and wonderful life and I am grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just needed to get this out of my system and one year on seemed as good a time as any.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64lDp_ewA-6E0gmjGnjRgmsLH0F_mUOxeDmO1d2AVrCwZniKV2UdBjHu9c-Lnzt-prCnk2_nIuY_jQfJO8kXz6C_Ki3xHt7e4Ut42UBDEB9U7dehn1KyuPloh3JMVFvgVn_7b-1jOf74/s1600/IMGP1076_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64lDp_ewA-6E0gmjGnjRgmsLH0F_mUOxeDmO1d2AVrCwZniKV2UdBjHu9c-Lnzt-prCnk2_nIuY_jQfJO8kXz6C_Ki3xHt7e4Ut42UBDEB9U7dehn1KyuPloh3JMVFvgVn_7b-1jOf74/s400/IMGP1076_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male orange tip butterfly April 2011</td></tr>
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</div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-36125863071704391082011-03-26T14:54:00.000-07:002011-03-26T14:54:45.083-07:00Starlings, a hen harrier and fish and chips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mmNoTdCm_FlsWFWXuBaHc2Z4OhnEwk3fRFnB3Jl8vXEdixv3Ppqg-M6WZmUvXM7uZNVNae5aAtW9CnVaDIMTwUE6hyphenhyphenK0AK-rjdJs8klKRPSq40jDX3800XqLF7upnldJZwyKFabj4zs/s1600/IMGP0479_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mmNoTdCm_FlsWFWXuBaHc2Z4OhnEwk3fRFnB3Jl8vXEdixv3Ppqg-M6WZmUvXM7uZNVNae5aAtW9CnVaDIMTwUE6hyphenhyphenK0AK-rjdJs8klKRPSq40jDX3800XqLF7upnldJZwyKFabj4zs/s400/IMGP0479_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Every time David and I go to Shapwick we find ourselves asking the same question ‘Why don’t we come more often?’</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gF8B41zSt1xPYUulWe6L-ICC-ows2bYuX5MzGUAcQM_gpWCvtVzHpO6peMIG_YWC8Q66We4ZamwYA12gT_PTkPpVsexhDArgHa6N5UpCJpfyAOg993TLFTSUyLnJ6gXJ8OUfGcT6HG0/s1600/IMGP0455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gF8B41zSt1xPYUulWe6L-ICC-ows2bYuX5MzGUAcQM_gpWCvtVzHpO6peMIG_YWC8Q66We4ZamwYA12gT_PTkPpVsexhDArgHa6N5UpCJpfyAOg993TLFTSUyLnJ6gXJ8OUfGcT6HG0/s200/IMGP0455.jpg" width="200" /></a>We were invited to a meeting about the Avalon Marshes Landscape Project and had decided to go early in the hope that the starlings were still roosting in the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The idea was to find the starlings, eat in local pub and get to the meeting at 8pm.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">It started well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We parked at the visitor centre to check where the starlings had roosted the previous night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We followed the canal on the Natural England reserve to the viewing point and arrived just in time to see countless starlings streaming across the horizon and dropping into their roost in the reeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No aerial ballet this time, but impressive nonetheless.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_XFwH_4kkQCvHYHFPamLto5PhGa0q-6JYlL8goIsQ9yw0sGfht-eLF_Q-T7_7vcXunGJdkhas7AmzWsWKPcmFzLN96Fc5O0-LR94-zE5t2fuD1WC7_GfZLuXy40LEFehuMl5VkLBB3o/s1600/IMGP0465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">I</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfsu9cW6Y5_I3blALxRz5rXlk_RRaggj3a45IRezQz1FxAUqQiOT6v44X2ea7UFgX0LxHHu_nHTDashJ3U_gUhyphenhyphenF8Mkqj5sDuKaVxAtUynlfaYCyCQ3jIGrHpLRyfYeTffEVaJXX6IsA/s1600/IMGP0458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfsu9cW6Y5_I3blALxRz5rXlk_RRaggj3a45IRezQz1FxAUqQiOT6v44X2ea7UFgX0LxHHu_nHTDashJ3U_gUhyphenhyphenF8Mkqj5sDuKaVxAtUynlfaYCyCQ3jIGrHpLRyfYeTffEVaJXX6IsA/s200/IMGP0458.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_XFwH_4kkQCvHYHFPamLto5PhGa0q-6JYlL8goIsQ9yw0sGfht-eLF_Q-T7_7vcXunGJdkhas7AmzWsWKPcmFzLN96Fc5O0-LR94-zE5t2fuD1WC7_GfZLuXy40LEFehuMl5VkLBB3o/s1600/IMGP0465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">t</span></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">As the flocks descended a large, striking, bird flapped lazily into view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our attention was temporarily diverted from the starlings as we realised it was a hen harrier, only the second I have seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would have been worth making the journey for that alone.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As the light faded we made our way back to the car and set off to find a pub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is where things started to go awry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first establishment we visited looked promising, but was almost empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We walked in and realised why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be an exaggeration to say you needed a second mortgage to eat there, but we weren't about to pay £10.95 for the cheapest thing on the menu.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Undeterred we set off to a pub we had often driven past in a little village nearby. This time it was like turning back the clock 30 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We entered a small sparsely furnished public bar with two customers hunkered down over a table with pints.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>David and I looked at each other, and then at the barman, who was regarding us quizzically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told us that, apart from the one we had already visited, none of the pubs in the area sold food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were advised to go to Glastonbury for fish and chips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were running short of time so, resigning ourselves to the prospect of sitting in the car eating soggy chips from greasy paper, we carried on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We had never heard of Knights Fish and Chip Shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind the take away was a restaurant with marble tables, a wood burner and a stone spiral staircase leading up to the loos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gratefully we sat down and ordered. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was then we recognised Michael Eavis, of festival fame, sitting at the table across the aisle from us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that it came as no surprise that the food, when it arrived a few minutes later, was exceptionally good. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We got to our meeting with two minutes to spare. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I have a feeling that the Avalon Marshes are going to be playing a major part in our lives from now on, and that this won’t be the only time we go to Glastonbury for fish and chips.</div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-61265842521722286972011-03-16T15:21:00.000-07:002011-03-16T15:21:16.497-07:00Spring in my GardenYesterday I saw my first Brimstone, an unmistakable flash of sulphur yellow. I have never managed to photograph one, so when it settled briefly on a log I grabbed my camera and dashed out. Needless to say just as I was about to press the shutter it flew off over the hedge. Having gone outside into the sunshine I decided to 'seize the day'.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0naKHkczkKOCOnC28SKksgBvmIrdVhyefQHKXO_qsumJSy81mG7diQXT9ypkKHI9KhN6zofB5xN7CWa77McUlWiXdWt7-al_TAjbc8HOxHo5A9y6s7cWrXZaWFyh_j3KvBTFuU1SKmbk/s1600/IMGP0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0naKHkczkKOCOnC28SKksgBvmIrdVhyefQHKXO_qsumJSy81mG7diQXT9ypkKHI9KhN6zofB5xN7CWa77McUlWiXdWt7-al_TAjbc8HOxHo5A9y6s7cWrXZaWFyh_j3KvBTFuU1SKmbk/s400/IMGP0531.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzXQviVwYZl4GeeIyI6m3-F8xG3PgJ55OhaQe2KiqL6L5tNVPnq7tDClFwFirwHaRgJD2_X5VNMoWK3ADosUEJ5Nu27m1vOwBRt35yhyphenhyphenG7a5-BMOQliZUGig1yoHFfspqn408Tr8QUlg/s1600/IMGP0537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzXQviVwYZl4GeeIyI6m3-F8xG3PgJ55OhaQe2KiqL6L5tNVPnq7tDClFwFirwHaRgJD2_X5VNMoWK3ADosUEJ5Nu27m1vOwBRt35yhyphenhyphenG7a5-BMOQliZUGig1yoHFfspqn408Tr8QUlg/s400/IMGP0537.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1tCeNJNCdI9peuKHE_jshEsZdReWryIEAZyFVc91kmPe23ej_nSgHg65ZwSeRxxvN60xD9D5S-1z56VFQDEnWpy_1p1uBR3XgU23RfjqdMJaeFTujrQ8T_iQK9A2CnIDTltSLzJTJFs/s1600/IMGP0540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1tCeNJNCdI9peuKHE_jshEsZdReWryIEAZyFVc91kmPe23ej_nSgHg65ZwSeRxxvN60xD9D5S-1z56VFQDEnWpy_1p1uBR3XgU23RfjqdMJaeFTujrQ8T_iQK9A2CnIDTltSLzJTJFs/s400/IMGP0540.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-1ij9LS0GlP4NKiRgExomp1-O9IuX1kipqk9dX5Sx5mGAKubaCKl-XbzJfQuZABSJiiIFktpjaGNILLuQefARnIMQVc7VFuqrXY8D-r9gMsGcImEITxzNk8EfgPoDpnnNaU8y6jd9jI/s1600/IMGP0556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-1ij9LS0GlP4NKiRgExomp1-O9IuX1kipqk9dX5Sx5mGAKubaCKl-XbzJfQuZABSJiiIFktpjaGNILLuQefARnIMQVc7VFuqrXY8D-r9gMsGcImEITxzNk8EfgPoDpnnNaU8y6jd9jI/s400/IMGP0556.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-83829353197146479582011-03-10T11:20:00.000-08:002011-03-10T11:20:14.154-08:00How to lay a hedge in four, not so easy, lessons<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">I can now lay a hedge, it's official. Not a particularly useful skill for a modern CV maybe, but it was something I had wanted to learn for a long time, so last month I took the plunge and signed up for a course that took place over four consecutive Sundays on a beautiful organic farm near Bristol.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was hard work, after the first day every muscle in my body felt as if it was on fire, but it was great fun, very rewarding, and definitely worth a few aches and pains.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The hedge we were working on was mostly hazel with some blackthorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This is how it looked when we started.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZgZFbYzmq8gZIK5n6y6OBCo-6W6MIkcSkew6aYuhb1HrDVAtsU5iq0-nl33wQXOxZlf48r9f2wc3F4Qw70icKNIOOEVcsgoX2XnrY9i0amL83E_cW6v7PsKyAUHpGjvi0r1Dn_eHntw/s1600/P1070012_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZgZFbYzmq8gZIK5n6y6OBCo-6W6MIkcSkew6aYuhb1HrDVAtsU5iq0-nl33wQXOxZlf48r9f2wc3F4Qw70icKNIOOEVcsgoX2XnrY9i0amL83E_cW6v7PsKyAUHpGjvi0r1Dn_eHntw/s400/P1070012_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first task was to clear away all the material that wasn't needed for laying which, given the thickness of the hedge, was a challenge in itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were told to put anything suitable for stakes or binding to one side for later use.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMkSNMztRKxs9C3CH0B-Y_f29Jqf0xQshxUePCqs9kHeL4zFnSt2WQOt6TRgWl309cCFOU3ZGjVHSen_iPqe7sqMIO-fkFMlGuFGOQenmr9YVxpRcl3ggQgwIlPspw4RAPTcl7ceYvoA/s1600/P1070015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMkSNMztRKxs9C3CH0B-Y_f29Jqf0xQshxUePCqs9kHeL4zFnSt2WQOt6TRgWl309cCFOU3ZGjVHSen_iPqe7sqMIO-fkFMlGuFGOQenmr9YVxpRcl3ggQgwIlPspw4RAPTcl7ceYvoA/s400/P1070015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Once all the excess vegetation and debris had been moved away we had the task of deciding which stems to lay, which to use as living stakes, and which to remove. Gaps were filled by hammering in stakes made from hazel stems that had been removed from other parts of the hedge</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Next we were shown how to cut into the stems with a bill hook so that they could be bent and woven between the stakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This wasn't as easy as the instructor made it look, and took a fair bit of practice.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-tMd4WLRydjZmlp-Oka8sdfM2QSC0er9nY-frftFom4u8TbPw-i4gesZ0emuYehR4xwvXoKUaezxfp9vdpfCi79MwfUZNr_LvBtJ2PCnSZMrh76dJSMO2Cr9dNl4LaiuxWlV5tdEGTM/s1600/P1030754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-tMd4WLRydjZmlp-Oka8sdfM2QSC0er9nY-frftFom4u8TbPw-i4gesZ0emuYehR4xwvXoKUaezxfp9vdpfCi79MwfUZNr_LvBtJ2PCnSZMrh76dJSMO2Cr9dNl4LaiuxWlV5tdEGTM/s320/P1030754.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The final touches were to weave long hazel binders into the top of the hedge to hold it down, and saw off the stakes to a uniform height. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgue21GyI5w1rJtd5t2AWz9sOgrsvIU0QOdssq3Uukdwv5_vmYjc_VF2SOyPCVrmB5ZK0W1Mik_l-6HfCFIe88rnCVEAX1OeRL4zRSXtZfmpodjdtR6e94dUb9xyOgsXZgWaATnY7Isl4o/s1600/P1070030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgue21GyI5w1rJtd5t2AWz9sOgrsvIU0QOdssq3Uukdwv5_vmYjc_VF2SOyPCVrmB5ZK0W1Mik_l-6HfCFIe88rnCVEAX1OeRL4zRSXtZfmpodjdtR6e94dUb9xyOgsXZgWaATnY7Isl4o/s400/P1070030.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As we progressed our instructor gave us less and less help, and on the final session I teamed up with my husband to clear and lay our own section of hedge from start to finish. The final result is pictured below.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2REPQlXh7CSo8R7YajstjTQzJwiamzToNaSVwoA4966UdqglgRlO3igKmmTd5VdeiYBI4AHvo6QVTH2VGJe3dg_dqfIAuBaIbsKf7Ry07AQq8Pf0uoaIiXtlv00esaI6kdMAQTd7bro/s1600/P1070006_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2REPQlXh7CSo8R7YajstjTQzJwiamzToNaSVwoA4966UdqglgRlO3igKmmTd5VdeiYBI4AHvo6QVTH2VGJe3dg_dqfIAuBaIbsKf7Ry07AQq8Pf0uoaIiXtlv00esaI6kdMAQTd7bro/s400/P1070006_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It may not be the most expertly laid section or hedge you will ever see, and we certainly weren't speedy, but we both thought it was a job well done... Does anyone need a husband and wife hedge laying team? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-13828682986412983982011-02-11T14:59:00.000-08:002011-02-11T14:59:27.956-08:00My Wildlife Pond – A Tale of Trial and Error<div class="MsoNoSpacing">I have always wanted a wildlife pond in my garden but I decided not to do anything about it until the children were old enough to be safe around water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About seven years ago I finally took the plunge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided to dig it myself, in the part of the garden that used to be my vegetable patch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had suffered a crisis of conscience about slug pellets a few years earlier and, despite trying every conceivable organic deterrent, had not been able to grow anything since!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_HGbcv8G3ikCKPmJHIJZPvVJhyphenhyphen3FIPuSUvbPjmcAdVmNGvc55j8WlXR4Zqzw6CXjuSlxnIeOElAtN8qTB8PXZAkoASxXeg1K7nc0dxleO48_OsCRVQtWoty4SraFHikqifRUJa7pYsU/s1600/2004+04+17_0802-1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_HGbcv8G3ikCKPmJHIJZPvVJhyphenhyphen3FIPuSUvbPjmcAdVmNGvc55j8WlXR4Zqzw6CXjuSlxnIeOElAtN8qTB8PXZAkoASxXeg1K7nc0dxleO48_OsCRVQtWoty4SraFHikqifRUJa7pYsU/s320/2004+04+17_0802-1-1.jpg" width="320" /></a>I read a few books, marked out the outline of the pond, chose a liner, and began to dig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very quickly things began to take shape. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enlisted my husband’s help to put in the liner and the whole family joined in as we filled it with water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had a deep patch in the middle, a muddy area for planting, ledges of various depths, a pebble beach, a turf bank on one side and slates around the other.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Mistake number one – I should have cemented the slates in, but I thought they would look more natural set in earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have regretted this ever since as they have never looked right, but it is very hard to rectify once the pond has things living in it because if cement goes into the water it will kill everything.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwa9IPDyUzkWfCXiYvHM3mHt4Wm6-ZmbxiMUsS6oFnB1Dj_u6skHtrd6ikOCaO2o_H0f9oTysSjYlmOrLzofSNHKl2N8LFH7oH78B8UT1GKENDgfF1Ixg9QWCESs9sljQC9tJp-xPydm4/s1600/2004+05+23_0800-1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwa9IPDyUzkWfCXiYvHM3mHt4Wm6-ZmbxiMUsS6oFnB1Dj_u6skHtrd6ikOCaO2o_H0f9oTysSjYlmOrLzofSNHKl2N8LFH7oH78B8UT1GKENDgfF1Ixg9QWCESs9sljQC9tJp-xPydm4/s320/2004+05+23_0800-1-1.jpg" width="320" /></a>I thought very carefully about planting and decided only to use natives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then my neighbour offered me a bucket of pond water and some of her plants to get things started – I found myself smiling and saying ‘yes please’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mistake number two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One very pretty plant turned out to be a water primrose, which is an invasive alien, and a few days afterwards I noticed a tiny translucent fish swimming at the edge of the pond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They oxygenators were full of goldfish fry!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed to get rid of the water primrose before it got established, but the goldfish were another matter! I gave away dozens as they grew up but the last one or two became very big, ate anything that moved, and defied all my attempts to catch them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last one disappeared a year ago so we are finally fish free – I am hoping that now my tadpoles stand a chance!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">My last big mistake was to plant a native white water lily – I was warned that it would grow very big but did I listen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last summer it finally filled the whole pond so I took advantage of the early drought and low water levels to wrestle it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like doing battle with a triffid!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I finally have a fish free, water lily free, pond and the frogs have returned despite the hard winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m hoping that I have finally learned from my mistakes and that anyone reading this will learn from them too.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Disasters aside, my pond has giving me a great deal of pleasure over the years and it has brought some wonderful wildlife to my garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves...</div><br />
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</o:p></div>Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5199342269320006996.post-54213503351299294502011-02-11T14:04:00.000-08:002011-02-11T14:04:54.046-08:00An ExplanationWhy 'Thoughts from a Dormouse'? <br />
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I was a dreamer when I was a child. One day at school a young, exasperated, teacher asked me a question. I don't know what it was, I didn't realise that she had spoken to me until I heard 'You are never awake in class, we will have to call you dormouse'. It stuck! for the rest of my primary years I was known as 'dormouse'. In my mind I had a picture of a chubby creature sleeping in a teapot at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.<br />
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Over thirty years later I made my first acquaintance with a real dormouse. By then I was beginning to become involved with wildlife and conservation and had been offered the opportunity to train for a dormouse licence with Avon Wildlife Trust. I wouldn't say it was love at first sight, but it was close! I now have my licence and am still amused at just how prophetic that thoughtless remark turned out to be.Gillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17618031600584335389noreply@blogger.com1