May

 

May

It’s May, the sun is shining, and the machines are out in force. At the moment, a tree is receiving attention. I can’t see any men wearing hard hats hanging around in the treetops, so I don’t think any trees will be cut down today. The tree may just be having a trim, an errant limb or two being removed.

There is a background hum of lawnmowers, too. The sun encourages the grass to grow, which in turn incites proud homeowners to sharpen the blades of their mowers and lay waste to the fresh green growth. Woe betide any small invertebrates lurking among the grass stems. What has survived the lawnmower will fall victim to the strimmer.

It's the early spring Bank Holiday weekend, so Monday, which is the actual holiday, will be given over to lawn mowing and barbecues, especially if the sun continues to shine. The scent of newly cut grass wreaks havoc with those who suffer from hay fever, but is soon overwhelmed by the aroma of chargilled meat, with the emphasis being on ‘char.’

Forget about sitting quietly in the garden, enjoying the early spring warmth, pretty flowers, and the songs of birds trilling in the trees.

Mowers to right of us,

 Mowers to left of us,

Stutter and roar,

Worse than before,

Welcome the month of May.

Enjoy the bank holiday, if there is one where you live, and beware the predicted change in weather, and a return to *wintrier days. 

*Adjust according to wherever you live. 

 

 

 

The Merry, Merry Month of May

 

The Merry, Merry Month of May

Let’s hope it will be a merry month and that the sun shines more than momentarily.

                    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4tnqYhF6Qw

We roamed the fields and river sides

When we were young and gay;

We chased the bees and plucked the flowers

In the merry, merry month of May.

Chorus:

Oh, yes, with ever changing sports

We whiled the hours away;

The skies were bright,

Our hearts were light

In the merry, merry month of May.

                            Our voices echoed through the glen,

With blithe and joyful ring;

We built our huts of mossy stones

And we dabbled in the hillside spring.

Chorus:

We joyed to meet and grieved to part,

We sighed when night came on;

We went to rest with longing heart

For the coming of the bright day dawn.

Chorus:

. . . and so the year rolls on . . .

. . . and so the year rolls on . . .

The UK is about to celebrate the Early May Bank Holiday on Monday 1st May. This means that families may get together for a barbecue, likely to take place under lowering skies and/or driving rain. Others may choose to take a long weekend break, clogging the motorways in a bid to escape the humdrum of daily life. Those who choose to stay at home often decide to use the extra leisure time to catch up on (or start) some gardening, decorating or d-i-y projects. This results in logjams of cars streaming to garden centres and d-i-y stores and then attempting to find parking spaces. 

Customers impatient to begin their appointed tasks shoulder their way through crowds of other like-minded souls, locate their items and then queue to pay for them. By the time they reach home again, some two or three hours later, the will to achieve anything is dissipating. Of course, there are some organized folks who have already laid in their supplies but these are the people who work steadily at keeping everything in their houses and gardens tickety-boo, surely the most sensible way to proceed in life.

UK citizens enjoy – or endure – just eight Bank Holidays a year and for only two of them, Christmas Day and Easter Sunday, are the large shops shut (though not in Scotland on Easter Sunday) Small shops are free to open as they please on these days. Nonetheless, particularly if visitors are to be hosted, a siege mentality takes hold and huge amounts of provisions are amassed, with every conceivable potential taste being accommodated. It’s no good reminding anyone that the shops will be open again in twenty-four hours’ time.

The next surge in bulk buying, that is, the next Bank Holiday, will be at the end of May. Perhaps Summer will have arrived by then. If not, surely the August Bank Holiday will come up trumps – and speaking of Trump, who knows what he may have set in motion by then.

Anyway, whatever you are planning, even if it’s nothing, enjoy your weekend J

Feed me!

Feed me!

May brings an explosion in the garden. Everything burgeons and each day offers fresh delights. The month becomes increasingly noisy as young birds demand that their parents feed them. The parents are on the go from just before break of day until the last vestiges of light have left the sky - they are being worn ragged by their demanding offspring. Feeding several bottomless pits is exhausting and some of the adults are beginning to look rather unkempt, their usually pin neat plumage dishevelled. There is little time to preen when there are so many mouths to feed.

It was flirting my tail like this that got me into trouble in the first place.

Me too!

I'm exhausted - no time some days even to  run a comb through my feathers . . .

. . . but at least my babies say 'Please' and 'Thank you', unlike those rude starling youngsters.

Feed me!

FEED me!!

FEED ME!!!

Say Please . . .

Feed me PLEASE - I'm starving. I'm a starving starling . . .

That's better, dear - now don't gobble.

We have seen blackbirds, goldfinches, nuthatches, coal tits, magpies, blue tits, great tits, greater spotted woodpeckers, wood pigeons, robins and a chaffinch at the feeders.  It’s very unusual to see a chaffinch – they prefer to feed on the ground. The long-tailed tits are noticeable by their absence – no doubt they’ll be along later for they must have young too. The jackdaws have been back to take food from the bird table and the local crows are vigilant and noisy when a red kite soars above their nests, looking for an easy meal.

My youngsters are hungry, too . . .

 . . . and mine  . . .

. . . mine, too . . .

Look right.

Look left.

All clear? Tuck in.

I wait till it's quiet.

Our most conspicuous visitors are the starlings. A few days ago we saw only three or four young birds but in the last couple of days the numbers have proliferated. Yesterday Barry counted forty starlings perched on the arches. They chatter and shriek from early morning until dusk. They enjoy communal feeding on the pergolas and communal bathing in the pond. Watching the harassed adults it’s difficult to ascertain whether the parents feeds their own young or whether they respond to all gaping beaks – I suspect the latter. 

Wood pigeons need food, too. Some chance with all those starlings.

I watched the plump, cheeky starling babies as they alternately preened vigorously and called vociferously. One of them was paying more attention to his plumage than his safety. Good grooming is essential for a bird but he wasn’t looking about as frequently as he should, as, indeed, the adults do. I feared for his welfare. I knew a sparrowhawk would appear on the scene sooner or later and today was the day. He swooped down from the roof and carried off a screaming youngster. Barry was startled when he walked along the garden path a few minutes later to see the sparrowhawk on the ground preparing his feast. We may deplore the depredations of the sparrowhawks but they have young to feed, too.

                         A few soft feathers are all that's left to commemorate a brief existence.

ABC Wednesday T is for Thomas the Tank Engine

When Christopher Awdry was ill with measles in 1943, his father, the Reverend W. Awdry, created the original characters and stories in a series that would bring him fame. Wilbert Vere Awdry (1911 – 1997) was an English clergyman, a railway enthusiast and finally a children's author. He was active in railway preservation and built model railways which he exhibited at various venues around the country.
'The Three Railway Engines' was the first book in 'The Railway Series' but because of the war (WWII) it was not published until 1945. It introduced Edward the Blue Engine, Henry the Green Engine, Gordon the Big Engine and the Fat Director, Sir Topham Hatt, whose title was later changed to the Fat Controller after the railways were nationalised.

The illustrations for the first edition were by William Middleton but Rev. Awdry thought them lacking fine detail and too much like toys.

Subsequent editions were reillustrated by C. Reginald Dalby.

Both images courtesy of Wikia

 Thomas made his first appearance in 1946 in 'Thomas the Tank Engine.' He was a tank locomotive or tank engine – a steam locomotive carrying his own fuel and water instead of pulling a tender containing them. Tank locomotives evolved around 1840 and were used for shunting and short distance tasks.

In 'Thomas and Gordon' Thomas was described as 'a fussy little engine, always pulling coaches about . . . He was a cheeky little engine, too.' The little blue locomotive dreamt of more glamorous tasks and eventually, after rescuing James, he was given his own branch line.

Thomas gained enormous recognition through the UK television series and spawned a variety of merchandise. He was easily the most popular of the engines among children. Rev. Awdry wrote twenty-six of the books in 'The Railway Series' books and his son, Christopher, wrote the last fifteen.
The YouTube clip shows the opening sequence from the television series.


Thank you to Denise Nesbitt and her Tried and Trusted Team whose members organise and host this weekly meme. To see more Ts please click here.

Spatially immature!

At this time of year young starlings scream around our garden feeders, arguing with each other, practising aerobatics and gymnastic pyramids. They boldly face up to wood pigeons and woodpeckers and overwhelm blackbirds, thrushes, robins, nuthatches and all the small titmice. At an unseen signal – or maybe an alarm – they take off in a great cloud and fly over the house to a safe vantage point. That is to say, most of them do. In their haste, or panic, to leave the site, some of them crash into the windows. This is not because our windows are sparklingly clean like the purest of spring water – far from it, they are smeary and nose-smudged and licked (by the dogs, I hasten to add!) Even when I have just cleaned them they only just allow clear vision so I cannot believe that the youngsters don't see them – they simply have poorly-developed spatial skills (a little like me, in fact!)
Most days there are thumps and thuds as unfortunate birds collide with unforgiving glass. Sometimes the impact is so noisy that we all jump and the dogs bark. Occasionally, thankfully rarely, the strike is fatal. Yesterday was a busy day for the young birds with a great deal of coming and going and several of them hit the windows. Some appeared to bounce off and continue their frantic flight but two of them, within a couple of hours, were knocked out.

The first one was thrown back from the patio door onto a net on a garden bench. She lay motionless for a minute or two but was still breathing. (I think it was a female since she had a hint of pink at the base of her beak and males have blue)

After a while she got rather groggily to her feet and a few minutes later flew off to join her friends and family.

A little later one of her male relations hit the glass and landed on his back on the patio.

We feared that this one might not survive but these birds are fighters and he was soon on his feet, though looking a little glassy-eyed.

We watched him carefully and he seemed to be recovering.  Gus was agitating to go out so Barry decided to move the little bird to a safer location - as he approached the starling flapped his wings and flew away.There haven't been any collisions today.

Pet Pride - winsome Winston

Winston at his winsome best - he knows that if he keeps that beguiling gaze fixed on a human face and gives an occasional quiet miaou he might receive a little treat.
Thank you to Bozo and his human for hosting this lovely weekly meme. To see more pets - and maybe join in - please click here.

Weekend Mailbox #7 Postman Pat

My youngest daughter used to love Postman Pat. My mother knitted  Pat and his cat Jess for Bethan and she had hours of fun playing with them.This is one of her books - this edition was published in 1982.  I think I must have bought it somewhat later than that as Bethan was born at the end of 1981 and was still at the rag book and stiff card book stage in 1982!
I always found it odd that the cartoon characters had only three fingers!
The following video is from YouTube and I'm sure you'll all be singing along to it by the end :-)


Big thanks to Gemma from 'Greyscale Territory' who inititiated and hosts this meme. Click here to see more

Music has charms to soothe a savage breast . . .

Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd,
And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd,
By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound.

William Congreve (1670 1729) extract from 'The mourning bride' 1697

A policeman in Northern Ireland used his initiative when faced with an unruly mob of drunken teenagers. They were throwing missiles so he decided to use the address system in his vehicle to relay music to calm them. He chose music usually associated with patrolling ice-cream purveyors rather than patrolling panda cars. His plan worked! The teenagers stopped throwing things and started laughing.

However, he has been told that he must expect to explain his actions and is to be disciplined. I think he should be commended for his insight and common sense! Would the authorities, whoever they are, have preferred the situation to escalate out of control so that force should be used? Whatever happened to common sense in this world?

I say, 'Well done, officer, and more power to your elbow!'

The Spirit of Dunkirk

The Association of Dunkirk Little Ships is marking the 70th anniversary of Operation Dynamo by returning the original 'Little Ships' once more to Dunkirk. The flotilla of around fifty set sail from Ramsgate, Kent, at 0700 BST and expects to arrive at its destination around 4:00 pm. These small craft have been lovingly and painstakingly restored and preserved over the decades. They include fishing trawlers, pleasure craft, paddle steamers and lifeboats. They are being escorted by the Royal Navy frigate HMS Monmouth and the RNLI is providing a lifeboat escort.

This photograph of some of the 'Little Ships' was taken at Chatham Navy Days in 2002.

Photo courtesy of Colin Smith, Wikimedia Commons

On Saturday 29^th May a commemorative service will be conducted at the Allied memorial on Dunkirk beach. A minute's silence will be followed by the playing of the national anthems of Britain, the Czech Republic, France and Belgium, the countries whose troops were rescued seventy years ago.Operation Dynamo was planned in the Secret Wartime Tunnels of Dover Castle. Churchill estimated that only 30,000 to 40,000 troops would be rescued, but in the event 338,000 were evacuated. He later described the operation as 'a miracle of deliverance.' The manoeuvre gave rise to the expression 'The Dunkirk Spirit' meaning indefatigable British determination and courage in the face of adversity and apparently insurmountable odds.

The Royal Naval ships had to wait off-shore in deeper water and the 'Little Ships' played their part by getting closer in to land so that they could transport troops to the larger vessels. Many soldiers made their journey back to Ramsgate in the smaller craft.

The original 1940 fleet of 900 naval and civilian craft made their hazardous journey across the English Channel (La Manche to the French) under the protection of the RAF. They had to avoid minefields and were fired on by the Luftwaffe whenever the weather allowed. The evacuation of Dunkirk is fittingly remembered as a victory over tremendous odds and it is right and proper that such events should be remembered.

(On a more personal note Barry's father had a cousin who was killed at Dunkirk. He was his parents' only son. His father, Barry's great-uncle, fought in the First World War and had been blinded in a gas attack. Barry met him only once and was shown this grand old man's collection of WWI shell cases – a display that made a deep impression on a young boy. His wife was German and the family history reports that she died of shame shortly after her son's death because of what her country had done – blinding her husband in the first war and then killing their son in the second. Poor woman!)

Winston’s mid-May blog 2010

Winston here . . . p'rrrrr, p'rrrrr . . . 

I've just got back from seeing Nadia-the-Vet. It's all right, there's nothing wrong with me -I just had to have my annual booster. It doesn't seem like a year ago that me and Monty had our boosters and I got so embarrassed when he misbehaved. Who'd have thought he wouldn't be here this year? Poor Monty!When I got back today all the dogs rushed up to say hello and give me a good sniffing. It was nice to get home again and go back to my soft cushion in the conservatory. It gets really hot in there – soooper!I like going to the vet. Everyone makes a fuss of me and tells me I'm beautiful. Nadia-the-Vet's ever so nice but she did say I was a little overweight. I was rather hurt by that – I think I'm a fine figure of a feline and my tiger tummy looks very impressive. Still, I'll have to lose a bit of weight – I know it makes sense. It's been hot lately and the birds have been busy in the garden. It's fun watching them but I'm not interested in chasing them. They're ever so noisy and they start so early in the morning, before it's light. They're still flying about as it's getting dark, too. Don't think I'd like to be a bird! Too much like hard work, don'tcha know.

The stinging, buzzing things are flying about a lot as well. I leave them alone 'cos when I was a kitten I was playing with one and it left its sting in my chin. Mrs H got it out and I was all right and the lump soon went down but I don't want that to happen again and I definitely don't want none in my mouth.I heard that Foxy has got something wrong with her hips – hip displaced I think Mrs H said. Anyway, she's going to have some treatment, just like Jenna, but maybe one day she'll have to have a new hip. Poor Foxy! 

The tiny mice in Jenna's and Gus's ears have moved away now so everyone's pleased about that. Gus is ever so big and he's still growing. Jenna looks really small next to him. He keeps jumping on her and sometimes she yelps so Mr and Mrs H are making him stop. He don't mean to hurt his sister; he is only a puppy – just rather a large, strong one. Sometimes he jumps on me but I can hide in smaller or higher places than Jenna can. I think he's going to get as big as Frodo – I know he'd like to be as big as him 'cos he really likes Frodo.

What else has happened? Ooh, yes! There was water coming through the sitting room ceiling the other day but it's all right – Mr H knows what made it happen and he stopped it. He's ever so clever. Gus had a new toy and it had to be mended twice almost as soon as he started playing with it. Now all the stuffing's come out and the squeaker's gone. He keeps taking my toys, too. Gareth and Louis come over one day to collect their barbephew what Mr and Mrs H looked after when they was in Noo Yawk. Louis played with me – he likes me. Oh, and Mr H went off for the day – he went ailing and when he come back he was all red and ever so tired but he said he'd had a really good day and then he fell asleep. Mrs H had a quiet day at home all alone – apart from us, of course. It was really hot and all us animals slept all day. Mrs H didn't', though.

That's it, I think. Be good!

TTFN

ABC Wednesday – S is for Starlings

Did you know that the Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) is in decline? Though it is still a very common garden bird, particularly in the south of England, globally it is threatened and the RSPB has designated it a Red List species. Red is the highest conservation priority, needing urgent action.
These are noisy, gregarious birds and in May, when numbers have been swelled with hungry youngsters, our garden echoes to the prattling, screeching squadrons of starlings that flock in by the dozens to feed.
One year we saw a pure white starling. We only saw her once – for some reason we felt she was a female – and I suppose she was doomed from the moment she put on her unusual apparel.
Starlings are marvellous photographic subjects as they argue and manoeuvre to appropriate the best position on the feeders. The following are some photographs Barry took this week. For those not fluent in Starlingese – or is it Starlingish? – I have provided translations. The language, after all, is in the movement.

Left-hand starling (Lhs): Come on if you think you're hard enough!

Right-hand starling (Rhs): Hey! I'm just stretching my wings - calm down.

Lower starling (Ls): I thought this was a quiet neighbourhood.

Lhs: That's better - get them down!

Rhs: Okay   - they're down now. Happy?

 Ls: Just stop the gabbing and eat, why don'tcha?

Lhs: Have you seen that thieving magpie today?

Rhs: I saw him over there just now . . .

Ls: I'll fill my boots while I can!

Lhs: Have you ever seen anything like that? Oink, oink!!

Rhs: Yeah, leave some for us!!

Lhs: Don't look now but Show-off's on the way!

Rhs: Yeah, I can see him out of the corner of my eye.

Show-off: Mee-ee-ee-owww . . . Hi guys, did you miss me? 

Mumbles from the rest: Yeah, like a pain in the butt . . .

Show-off: Aww, I know you love me really!

The onlookers say: We'd love you a lot more if you stopped treading on us.

Lhs: Ouch! Get off my knee!

Rhs: I don't need your foot on my neck to find the food . . . so get OFF!

Show-off: Hey, just call me Isaac . . . (quotes) 'If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.' (Sir Isaac Newton 1642 - 1727)

Thank you to the tireless ABC Wednesday team for organising and hosting this weekly meme. Click here to see more Ss!

A walk in Simons Wood

It was very hot yesterday so we decided to take the dogs to Simons Wood where there's plenty of shade.

Decades of fallen leaves have bequeathed a soft, friable surface, soundless under foot and paw. There is an abundance of Scots pines in the wood and they were releasing clouds of pollen with their wonderful scent. The solemn mien of the pines is alleviated by the uncurling fronds of bracken, the grace and brightness of silver birch and the wild rhododendrons which are everywhere in abundance throughout this area.
Jenna is still not allowed free exercise. She recently finished her anti-inflammatory medication and after a few days she started a course of Cartrophen (Pentosan Polysulphate Sodium) injections to regenerate her damaged joints. She has had two at weekly intervals so far and will have another two in the next fortnight, then she will have monthly shots and finally, hopefully, annual boosters. This compound is not licensed for use in humans as it must not be used with steroids or non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, including aspirin. Animals do not have free access to over-the-counter analgesics but humans do and a mixture of the two could be fatal! There is a large lake in Simons Wood with a small island in the middle where Canada geese nest each year.

Mallards and coots abound but this year all the ducklings and coot chicks and most of the goslings have disappeared. There are no pike in the lake but three large terrapins (turtles) have been spotted and they have come under suspicion for the demise of the baby water birds. I suspect that the terrapins once lived in someone's aquarium or garden pond and were rehoused in the local lake when they became too big or troublesome to look after. (I hope no-one is keeping baby crocodiles; they wouldn't survive the winter if similarly disposed of but could do a lot of damage before the cold weather arrived! I'm joking – I trust!)

As we approached the lake Frodo's stride lengthened and he plunged into the water to cool off, followed hotfoot (hotpaw?) by Jenna and Gus. Hydrotherapy is the only unrestricted exercise Jenna can undertake at present and she thoroughly enjoys her gambols in lakes and ponds. Buddy keeps well away from all water!

As Jenna and Gus tirelessly retrieved a large stick they were joined by a pretty Golden retriever who played with them for a while.

After she had gone home, a Jack Russell bustled up. He paddled rather than swam and was really more interested in playing chase on land with Gus. Much play-growling ensued, each in turn playing the part of catcher.

Eventually, he, too, went off with his master and we realised we had been out much longer than intended and returned home. The rest of the day was quiet, the peace being disturbed only occasionally by the snores of contented dogs.