Maria Donovan's Blog, page 2

August Surprise!

I’m always surprised by the last photo I took for the month. This time it’s the allotment, which feeds me and my imagination. Join in with Bushboy’s Last on the card challenge.

Most of my time is split between writing and doing what I can in the garden and on the allotment. It works out well because my work requires some understanding of what it is to try to be self-sufficient. My novel is based in a future where this is more of a necessity than it is now. I have, for instance, learned a lot about pollination – since in the world of my imagination there are so few insects left that the job is given to children instead.

It’s not an entirely imaginary concept – some places around the globe are already so polluted and insect numbers so low that children are sent to climb trees and pollinate blossoms to make future fruit.

I know I suffer anxiety sometimes because things get eaten or don’t grow; everything that does come up to be harvested feels like a miracle. I feel great respect for those who grow food at scale; in places where individual self-sufficiency is a necessity to sustain life, the pressures must be enormous.

I took this photo because I realised how much we have done this year and how I meant to record it step by step. We started with one raised bed two years ago and slowly we have tried to win back some ground from the horseradish that is everywhere! Now there are six raised beds and a few that are not formally enclosed. Neat paths between are covered in cardboard and home-made wood chippings. It’s a lot easier to walk around now without falling into some crack in the earth. Last year there was still such a huge patch of horseradish right between the beds, and it made a nice hiding place for a rat.

There’s a lovely set of new runner beans, peas, mangetout and dwarf beans on the right. The first set on the left is over and needs to come out to make way for winter greens. New brassicas under cover in the foreground, not in a raised bed yet. Maybe that will come next year.

It’s good to notice what there is and if I compare it to the chest-high thistles in the plot next door – untouched over the summer, awaiting new tenants – I can see what a difference those hours of attention have made. Thistles are good too (the goldfinches will be happy) but not generally popular among allotment holders.

The bonus is that, at the end of the day, when it cools down a bit, I can go there and pick something for supper and some to give away. As soon as you enter the allotment area it feels different: so many flowers as well as vegetables and fruit bushes.

It’s lovely and peaceful there and I am looking forward to having a shed!

Thanks as always to Brian for hosting this challenge, which helps me keep in touch with the world of the blog! For me it’s back to work now on my novel. And later… a trip to the allotment.

Are you growing any of your own food? Or is it all too much of a tie? How do you balance your commitments and all the things you’d like to do?

Insides and outside…

In the morning a gastroscopy gave me a brief look at my insides. It was all fine, but I prefer the view from the afternoon! My last photo for July…

I nearly missed this month’s entry for Bushboy’s Last on the card challenge because the photo shows not just the lovely coastline at West Bay, but also my lovely husband. He said he didn’t mind me posting it as long as he doesn’t look ridiculous. The challenge is to post your last photo unedited – but I think it’s OK.

In the morning, I’d had a gastroscopy at the local hospital, without sedation because I wanted to get over it quickly. This gave me a chance to watch along as the camera went down my gullet, into my stomach and poked about in my duodenum. It all looked fine – so that was a relief. It was a relief when it was over too. The staff at DCH were great and I was soon on my way.

Instead of rushing home to get on with work, we had a nice slow drive through the back lanes and along the coast, ending up at West Bay. I took this snap out on the pier.

Sometimes it’s a delight just to be outdoors, enjoying the best of the day!

The Uncollected

My last photo for June – and the strange separation between Post Office and Royal Mail.

Bushboy’s challenge is to post, unedited, the last photo you took in the month gone by and link it to his post, which you can find here. I was sure mine would be something edible from garden or allotment, or at least some lovely flowers but no. It’s cardboard: a package awaiting collection. I took the photo to show my friend what to look out for – and to mention that despite what it says on the box, it contained no items from Port Meirion.

The collection by Royal Mail didn’t happen, so I printed the labels myself and took it to the Delivery Office. I saved myself the embarrassment of being turned away at the Post Office as it has sunk in at last that this is a completely separate business. After 500 years of existence, Royal Mail is no longer owned by the State. Not even a little bit.

That they used to be properly integrated is obvious: the Post Office has a front entrance on the busy main street and the Delivery Office is directly behind. The connecting door through which the mailbags and packages pass may well be sealed up in time. Then Royal Mail will have to drive a van round to the front twice a day, while The Post Office will have to store all the items instead of sliding them through as and when. Storage space in the Post Office was unnecessary in the original design, so that should be fun at Christmas.

I don’t imagine the shareholders who own Royal Mail care much for these details. The Government website has a terse message: ‘Royal Mail has closed’, meaning that it’s no longer their business. But some of the people who work either side of that door remember what it was like in the good old ‘before’ times when things were better connected.

Late strawberries

My last post contained a little mystery – the only puzzle this time is how come it takes me over two weeks to join in with Brian’s Last on the card challenge!

This it the last photo I took in May – the first three strawberries picked from our allotment. Since then there have been pickings every day. The fruits are growing sweeter and sweeter and I suppose we must have eaten a few hundred by now. All this from five plants bought last year; there were six but one died; the rest had many babies.

Strawberries are unusual fruits because, as you can see, they wear their seeds on the outside. When birds eat the berries, little strawberry plants are likely to come up anywhere and everywhere, readily fertilised with a dollop of poo. At the moment I’m protecting my berries with chicken wire bent over the patch. Maybe next year we’ll add some plants in the wilder parts and see what happens.

Here we are, and it’s June 16th. The solstice next week will be a turnaround point for us all – one way or the other. Time passes and in the garden everything is growing so fast now – with the help of our watering. It hasn’t rained more than a few drops for some weeks.

As for me, my main focus is the unseen work that goes into writing. I’m into the long haul of a novel, and hopefully, by keeping going, all this effort will also bear fruit (haha).

Thanks to Brian for hosting such a beautifully simple and inclusive challenge, to post your last unedited photo(s) for the month gone by. Brian is a wonderful photographer and if you go over to his blog bushboys world for his own last on the card post here you’ll also find many posts with beautiful and intriguing images. As he is in Australia, there’s a world of difference in everything he sees: not just the wildlife and plants but things humans have left behind. I have learned so much from just looking.

Raining in my hall

This month’s entry for Bushboy’s Last on the card challenge contains a mystery.

Every month I get a little surprise because I’ve forgotten what my last photo might be. This one was taken as evidence of something strange.

On waking up one morning and going into the hallway, I found the floor ahead of me covered in spots of dried-up moisture, as if it had been raining indoors; there were even drops of water beading in a few places where it hadn’t had a chance to dry. You can see it best where the light comes in.

How could this happen? It took a while to figure it out beginning with:

Oh no! The roof is leaking. The entire attic area must be swamped! But there was no moisture on the ceiling. The drips didn’t come from there.

Looking around, I could see it wasn’t just in the hallway but also in the kitchen and bathroom and part of the living room – all nearby. Luckily, not in the bedrooms at the other end of the hallway.

Second thought: had there been so much condensation in the air from cooking and showering the evening before that it had somehow ‘rained’ on the floor in the night? But there was very little moisture inside the windows. And this phenomenon was unknown to me. What was different?

We hadn’t needed to light the woodburner the night before – and we rely on that to suck some of the moisture from the air. But that also meant it wasn’t cold enough for condensation. So…what caused this seemingly spontaneous event?

There had to be a reason. Can you guess what it might be?

A further clue: I’d noticed a certain crunchiness underfoot the evening before but I’d already cleaned the floors once and didn’t feel like doing it again.

At last my husband remembered that he had dropped salt and it had scattered everywhere.

We must have picked it up on our slippers and moved it around, leaving grains of salt all over the floor. Not into the bedrooms because we take our slippers off in the hallway (I was glad about this!) – I can only conclude that the moisture in the air had been sucked up by the salt, leaving this scattering of what looked like raindrops.

I was so relieved we didn’t need a new roof that I was happy to stick with this explanation and get the kettle on!

Brian’s Last on the Card challenge is simple and fun. Post your last photo for April and link to Bushboy’s post, where you can also see his photos and read the rules: no editing and no need to explain (unless you can’t resist!); use the tags The Last Photo and #LastOnTheCard.

Did you guess the answer to the mystery? Any strange things going on in your house? The house detective is here to help.

Cover me with flowers

The last photo on my phone for March is a herald of Spring – the celandine. Late entry for bushboy’s Last on the Card Challenge. Some not totally irrelevant advance news of inclusion in a new anthology.

First the photo!

Brian’s a forgiving challenge host, which means it’s not too late (I hope) to enter Bushboy’s Last on the card challenge for March. Just follow the link.

The rules are simple – post the last photo you took in March, unedited. I like the surprise of finding out what it is because I always forget.

I think I can safely post this one: a close up from a long bank of celandines, taken in the third week of March. These chrome-yellow flowers appear so early that they brighten up what can be some dark days, and when the sun shines on them they have a glorious radiance.

The path where they were growing was, when I was a child, notoriously smelly, and you had to watch where you were going as it was oh dear how else to say it? – full of dog shit in various stages of smudge and drying out. Sorry about that. These days, that’s rare. Most people pick up after their dogs. It’s good to remember that. We’re now in the age of the poo bag in a tree but that’s another matter.

Celandines: much nicer than what there was before. And no stink.

Here is my second to last photo: the clean path and the long bank of celandines, with an occasional early dandelion.

Advance notice: one of my short stories, set in a flower bulb factory, will be published in a new anthology. I’m looking forward to reading all the other contributions! Proper announcements coming soon.

When negative is positive

Covid caught up with me in December 2022.

My last photo for the month and the year records the gift of a negative test just before Christmas. This is my contribution to bushboy’s last on the card challenge and here are his simple rules if you want to join in.

The rules are simple:
1. Post the last photo on your SD card or last photo on your phone for the 31st December or whenever your last photo was taken.
2. No editing – who cares if it is out of focus, not framed as you would like or the subject matter didn’t cooperate.
3. You don’t have to have any explanations, just the photo will do
4. Create a Pingback to Brian’s post (here) or link in the comments
5. Tag “The Last Photo”

Though I think this photo on its own would tell a story, I want to add that while I was ill and very tired I took a complete break from my laptop for four weeks. Working on my current novel using pencil and paper was convalescent bliss – because I’ve long felt that I couldn’t write that way without getting in a mess.

Now I have overcome this, it’s given me confidence to go on, by whatever means. Although getting back to the laptop felt like going back to work – and now I have all these paper drafts to sort out!

We’re racing through January but still, I’d like to wish you all a Happy New Year and the very best for 2023!

Last on the card – October

A relief to find this was my last photo taken in October. Not too shabby for taking part in bushboy’s Last on the Card challenge.

The rules as set out by Brian are simple:
1. Post the last photo on your SD card or last photo on your phone for October.
2. No editing – who cares if it is out of focus, not framed as you would like or the subject matter didn’t cooperate.
3. You don’t have to have any explanations, just the photo will do
4. Create a Pingback to the post on bushboy’s blog or link in the comments
5. Tag “The Last Photo”

Here’s mine with rule-breaking comments.

It might have been muddy potatoes, or a photo of West Bay, but this time it was a picture of the back of Palmers Brewery by the river. It’s hard to walk past without taking a snap, whatever the weather or time of year.

I love the water wheel, which sometimes turns, and have happy memories of being inside the building with the beery smell as my dad worked there during the 1960s. The outside looks much the same as it did in those days. It’s one of the few breweries with a thatched roof! But you’ll have to take my word for that as you can’t see it from here.

Just the other side of the bridge in the darkness is the weir where Bridport’s two rivers meet for their final mile to the sea. It features in my novel The Chicken Soup Murder, set in 2012, when a boy caught in a flood is in danger of being ‘chopped up like an egg’.

I look forward to seeing the photos you post for ‘Last on the Card’!

September – last on the card

My foolish surprise when it’s time for Bushboy‘s ‘Last on the card’ always pleases me somehow – I never know what I’m going to find. My last photo for September …

Brian takes beautiful photos, which you will find on his blog ‘bushboy’s world’. He also runs this fun and forgiving challenge, where we post the last photo we took in the month just gone by.

The rules are simple:
1. Post the last photo on your SD card or last photo on your phone for 30th September.
2. No editing – who cares if it is out of focus, not framed as you would like or the subject matter didn’t cooperate.
3. You don’t have to have any explanations, just the photo will do
4. Create a Pingback to the post on bushboy’s blog or link in the comments
5. Tag “The Last Photo”

Here’s mine:

I was happy to see it was a fire in our wood-burner, lit for the first time this season. It hasn’t been a cold autumn so far but on 30 September the weather was wet, windy and chilly all day long and it was a treat to have this warmth in the late afternoon and evening. A kettle for hot water bottles and a pan of apples simmering on top.

These are proper seasoned logs – we burn natural wood first to collect the ashes for the garden. After this it will be whatever we can get that is good and dry – usually ‘waste’ that is otherwise destined to be destroyed for no good end. It’s got to be clean wood, not painted or treated with chemicals but it might have nails and staples in it. We have to fish those out of the ashes with a magnet! Ashes collected from these burnings are used to fill up potholes.

I love our woodburner – and it happens to look a bit like Brian’s so it’s nice to show it here.

Great to see you back, Brian!

Half light half dark – September Equinox

The September Equinox is here. A few photos looking back over the last season.

The September Equinox occurred at about 2am today 23 September 2022. For the Northern Hemisphere, we are now officially in the season of Autumn or Fall. Meteorological Autumn started on 1 September but Astronomical Autumn begins today.

It’s been a long dry summer, hotter than usual and most of my time has been divided between the allotment (early morning watering and late evening sowing planting and so on, if I had the oomph) and writing during the heat of the day. Working on that short story collection of which more another time.

For now I’m happy to look back over random photos taken since the June Solstice beginning with the garlic harvest. Our best year so far, and they dried quite well. Here are a few, lined up like The Usual Suspects.

Early July and the loveliness of the waxing crescent moon was something I wanted to capture, even though my camera phone isn’t really up to the job. That’s a project I would like to try: taking decent photos of the Moon.

The same hill and gardens in full-on July Glory.

July days were so hot, it was best to get up early for the short walk to the allotment. And we needed proper sunhats!

With one thing and another we were late getting started on planting this year. So you will have to forgive me for feeling a bit soppy about our first courgette. Although I’m holding it here with all the pride of the mother of a new-born, that didn’t stop us eating it.

At the end of July, the fruit harvests overlapped: redcurrants, raspberries, blackcurrants and blackberries. And there were strawberries too.

Spending so much time on the allotment meant not so many walks up the hill – but this photo reminds me of those lovely paths, waiting to be wandered.

August continued hot hot hot and dry – right to the middle of the month.

And then it rained.

Last year I was given three hazel bushes, which this year we were able to plant out. They yielded one nut!

Alas, it was empty.

Due to a schoolgirl error on my part, germination of carrots wasn’t great, but those that came up had plenty of room to grow.

A change from the usual run of photos. I missed this. When are you having yours?

I’m proud to have got these sunflowers past the slugs – and there are advantages to being late with everything because they came good in September.

We grew cucumbers and tomatoes in the greenhouse, which was in place in the garden for the first time this spring. With beans and pears and salad and many other things besides, in mid-September we were reaching peak harvest.

With work slowing down on the allotment, I took the afternoon off and went for a swim in the sea at West Bay – my first swim of the year, on 21st September! I think it helped with the Polymyalgia Rheumatica which is my greatest physical challenge at the moment. Or maybe it was the long walk home. Either way, I felt good for about 24 hours.

The walk home took me past the Brewery on the river Brit. Although in some ways it’s odd to have it half shadow and half light, it’s seems just right for the Equinox.

Thanks for looking at my photos and coming with me on this pictorial journey from June Solstice to September Equinox.

What’s changing in your world? Wherever you are, it’s always nice to hear from you.