The roots are delving down

It has been a long time. Blogging does not come naturally to me, but at times like this, there is an impulse to record events and so I have found myself back here on this strange blog. The reason? My new home! Welcome!

You can see the old farmhouse and to the right, the outbuildings, behind which a cabin is being built. (The outbuildings formed what is called a "clochán" in Irish - a rural settlement. These were also common in Scotland where they are known as "clachans". The Great Famine in the mid 1800s triggered their demise and few remain intact.) There is also my polytunnel and the big rock in the yard is supposedly called "Bishop's Rock" because a local bishop allegedly ran up it to survey the oncoming English troops in the 1500s or so. I am yet to find out if this is true...

It has been an eventful year with much to-ing and fro-ing. It has been hard to adjust and I've been feeling rather in limbo, unable to get stuck-in properly at the farm and reluctant to get too involved with city life. However, the cabin is nearing completion and once that's done I can become properly ensconced. At times I feel overwhelmed, but when I'm there everything settles into a natural rhythm. There are the jobs that need to be done urgently and then there is everything else, which more or less falls into place in order of urgency and/or will.

Yesterday was a significant day with regards to permanence - my asparagus have germinated! I have always wanted to grow asparagus but have never been anywhere long enough... No longer! I have started sowing perennials like an enthusiastic puppy and have my orchard and coppice started too. Here are pictures of the tiny asparagus sprouts:



















I think I'll leave it at that for now. Here are some of the first pictures of the farm I took a year ago (mostly of the farmhouse which is in a bad state) and here are some of the cabin. I will write more soon, I hope with more pics.

Trump Strikes Again!

Last night I discovered a further twist in the saga of the Trump Enterprises plans for a golf resort near Balmedie, Aberdeenshire. He is wanting to forcibly buy land bordering the Menie Estate using compulsory purchase laws to push people out of their homes.

As if the whole project isn't horrible enough!

To find out more about the campaign against his golf resort (which includes TWO golf courses, a hotel, hundreds of holiday homes and the stabilising of sand dunes!) please see this site. To complain about the expansion of his resort and the compulsory purchase orders please go here (please do so by highlighting the negative aspects of such an expansion on material grounds etc. otherwise your complaint will be rejected).

Please spread the word!

E-Petitions

Recently I felt moved by an article on the BBC news website to sign an e-petition calling for the PM to apologise for the prosecution of Alan Turing. I'm not really sure whether there is any point in such things, but anyway, I browsed some other e-petitions. It's quite an amusing thing to do - I'd recommend it! There are some truly baffling ones, silly ones, racist ones, all kinds of ones! However, I found some which I whole-heartedly agree with and I would like them to be shared and spread around. (Whether they make any difference or not is to be disregarded here for the purpose of optimism and the naive belief in democracy.)

Here they are (including the Turing petition) -

A petition calling for the ban of a particularly nasty weedkiller called Aminopyralid: http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/aminopyralidban/

. . . ban of a horrible insecticide called Neonicotinoid: http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/BeeDeath/

. . . more funding for research into honeybees and their diseases etc. (this one is particularly important so please do sign this one, if only one!): http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/Honeybees/

. . . Alan Turing petition: http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/turing/

. . . to tackle the issue of over-population (thus silencing critics who believe in use of similar pesticides etc. as above as means of providing enough food for all of us (amongst numerous other reasons to reduce the population size)!!!): http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/toomanypeople/

. . . for planning laws to favour low-impact, sustainable houses and projects: http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/LowImpactLiving/

. . . to ensure Sites of Special Scientific Interest are protected from development: http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/protect-dunes/

As if we needed more "proof" but here it is. . .

Here is a Deer Mouse (click on image for full view), Peromyscus maniculatus, which has acquired the mutation for pale fur naturally and passed it on to further generations thereby ensuring their survival in the paler sands of Sand Hills in Nebraska to the advantage of the darker furred mice of just a few miles away who thrive in the darker soils. (Of course genes for colour are highly variable but in this case the light gene, the so-called Agouti, wasn't in existence, so had to mutate and then be selected over the years.) Evolution occurring before our very eyes - who can doubt it now? OK, I'm being naive, fanatical Christians et al will still doubt it, but a girl can dream, can't she?! There are obviously numerous more examples, but this is just the latest and one of the cutest ;) Here is the article on the BBC news website.

Tribute to the Nellew

It was a sad morning when Carole rang me up with the terrible news that her dog Nell had died. But rather than dwelling on the sadness, I think it only appropriate to pay tribute to her, water-dog extraordinaire!

Carole and Nell were an inseparable pair, well-known in every town they lived in. Indeed, it was on a walk with Nell that I bumped into Carole and had the chance to chat to her properly for the first time (both of us had the tendency to disappear off home sharpish after our lectures, to do exactly the same thing as it would turn out...and thus our friendship was sealed ;o). So I must thank Nell for taking Carole outside and making her bump into me! I must thank her too for alerting Carole whenever I would come whistling at her window. She took it too far, however, when she would bark like a maniac whenever I whistled on the phone to Carole, but it's the thought that counted, thanks Nellew.

The picture above best describes Nell and is how I like to remember her. Wet, stinky and eager to get into the water. I've never seen such a happy dog in the water - the way she could entertain herself for hours on end, swimming in circles, clapping the water so that she could snap at the splashes. She wasn't without her eccentricities, mind, and she always needed that stick or stone to be hurled into the water before she would stop barking excitedly and launch herself in. I never understood that... Me and Nell had some good swims together, though the party-pooping Carole would sometimes shout at me to get out for fear I'd tire Nell out! Ha! There was no tiring Nell once she was waterborne! The two of us would slump out of the water scowling at Carole for ruining our fun.



She was a happy dog with the best owner a dog could wish for. She didn't need any boats to cross the Styx. I'm sure she raced Caron, and I bet she won too. I reckon Nell is a seal now and happy as larry. Goodbye Nellew, it was a pleasure to have spent some time with you.

Death of a Gentle Giant

 

It was a sad day when our Ecology Field Trip took us to Courtmacsherry to see a stranded Fin whale. When we were there it was already dead, but our teacher had seen it alive. There was a crowd of people there and a rather crude and opportunistic fish and chip van! It was very depressing to be amongst a crowd of people gawking at such an incredible creature, but I was comforted by the reminder of the history of such gatherings and the 16th century Dutch and German engravings of people doing exactly the same thing.

The cause of death is not yet known, but its body parts were taken away for post mortem. There were some botched attempts to move the poor beast and then to bury it, but in the end it was cut in pieces. I think the skeleton will be put on display in nearby Kilbrittain (funny name, eh?!).

Here are some photos.

What to say. . . ?

 

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write - typical, really. I’ve been in Kinsale for three months now and it’s hard to know what to write about as there is so much happening and so many new things to absorb, but I will try. . .

The course itself is going well and, although not quite what I had expected, I’m learning a lot. I’m gradually deepening my understanding of Permaculture; expanding my mental library of plant and tree species and their uses; helping to build a cob cordwood roundhouse; going to lots of fantastic places on field trips; and best of all, enjoying the company of all the people studying with me. They are a diverse bunch – many different nationalities, ages and backgrounds. The atmosphere here is great and there’s always something happening, even though the town is so small!

There are, of course (this being Ireland where even a tiny hamlet can still have two functioning pubs!), lots of pubs and some are particularly nice – such as a small one which has local trad. (N.B. This trad. is to be distinguished from the far more common trad. of the fat-man-playing-on-guitar-while-singing-depressing-we-hate-the-English-god-awful-Danny-boy-etc-songs variety. Run away, far away, if ever you are about to enter a pub and hear the distinctive plaintive, drunken, warbling of old men accompanied either by guitar or pre-recorded keyboard!) musicians playing unobtrusively in the back. Another nice pub is run by an old woman and is very cosy – but beware, the aforementioned lady of the establishment is suspected to be the culprit behind the mysterious disappearance of only-half-finished-when-I-go-to-the-loo pints. Or there’s a lovely pub out in Summercove (a 40 minute walk away) which overlooks the sea and James’ Fort. Beamish is my favourite stout (brewed locally in Cork), but, like many things here, is very expensive. That doesn’t seem to stop people from drinking it in vast quantities though. . . I’m still trying to find the legendary beer token tree from which so many people seem to be able to carry on drinking despite having no money, no job, the recession etc etc. . .

Much cheaper and far more satisfying are the regular “pot-lucks” that my fellow students et al go mad for. Someone hosts an evening where everyone brings food and booze and we all pig out and generally lounge around. Every other person in Ireland would appear to be a musician so there are often some wonderful impromptu “gigs” and I’ve been attempting to join in with my ukulele on the odd occasion. I may even play with some of my classmates at the Winter Fair at college, though I’ll probably opt for the safer option of challenging someone to a round of “Burp Tennis”.

Amongst the students there are some fantastic talents and loads of them are wonderful at crafts – so I’ve finally realised my dream of joining a weekly “Stitch n’ Bitch”! I hope to learn crochet, felting and the like from them. The “Stitch n’ Bitch” is especially fun as it also often doubles as a pot-luck, but it means my knitted goods will have bits of food woven in, but I’ll make up some excuse about that. . .

I could go on, but I think I’ve just gone over my yearly blogging quota. Phew. Here are some photos.