Something quilt-related (for a change)

Now I need something to restore my good spirits. Maybe a somewhat quilty post? There's nothing in this stack of 32 blocks to raise my spirits...my glass is half empty here...I need 36, and this week I am struggling for time to sew.

Nope, no. Not careless raggy applique.

Aha! A fistful of new fabric! That's more like it!

I don't even need to think about preparing them. Sometimes it's nice just to spread tham out and look at them, all full of possibilities.

I might do that a little more, they're so pretty.

"I'm going to peck you if you don't put down the camera and give me some crumbs" I'm working on some pet portraits. This is Billy, our only cockerel and poor Charlie's brother (BTW we candled Charlie's eggs, and so far it's all looking good). He's a bit cross 'cos he's just been bullied by Dugald (our drake). Our poultry are free range, and there's plenty of space so the bullying is more comic than serious.

Here are some seal pups we saw at the weekend on sandbanks on Loch Fleet - you might see them better by clicking on the photo.

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7 things about Me

Jane Ann tagged me to write about 7 random facts or habits.

1. I love "fairytales". I learned to read early, and was always allowed independence in the books I chose. Nobody seemed to understand why I was still reading these stories when I was obviously "far too old for that nonsense". I think partly it was comforting, but mostly because I was looking for meaning in these simple tales. And found quite a bit!

2. When I was little we spent much time at my grandmother's house, the rear wing of a grand Georgian mansion just outside troubled '70s Belfast. The garden was wild and beautiful, and at the bottom of it snowdrops grew in the lawn in rings. These, grannie explained, were faerie rings. (no explanation as to whether the faeries made the rings, or just used them, or what the faeries looked like, etc). I believed her. And a tiny, tiny part of me still does.

3. Just beyond said garden was a small wood. One of my sisters told me there were wolves in the wood. Despite knowing there were no wild wolves, for a long time I believed her and was terrified, especially at night. (I don't belive this any more!)

4. Last time I went to IKEA I bought everything I wanted and the bill came to £23.22.

5. I dislike telephones very much, and avoid speaking on them and especially answering them. I see from reading other people's blogs that I am not alone in this, and this makes me feel a little better.

6.'Love is Enough' (below my blog title) is the title of a poem by William Morris.

7. I have two pianos in my house.

Thank you Jane Ann, that was fun!

Visiting Afar

Still piecing, slowly; don't have much to show. This cross stitch bookmark for my older sister's birthday did however get finished. The kit comes from the almost-local Textile Heritage.

Yesterday I had some errands to do in Edinburgh and Glasgow. That meant an early start and a four hour drive. I had planned an intermediate stop at the quilt shop in Linlithgow, but it was closed and I ended up with some time to fill in before meeting LittleSis. The Botanical Gardens in Glasgow is a good place to while away a couple of hours...especially with all those second hand bookshops nearby...

I lived in the West End of Glasgow for many years, as a student and afterwards, and it was so nice to spend some time there again, just wandering around. It was warm and sunny, perfect "exam weather".

I tried not to think too much about little Maddy.

There was a lot to see in the gardens,

but I was focused - I have been wanting to visit the new Kibble Palace since it reopened in November. The message on the door is not easy to make out in my photo
It reads "KIBBLE PALACE erected on this site 1873 restored 2006"
Inside was all bright and clean, as it must have looked when new (until recently Glasgow was a city of heavy industry and covered in black grime).

The koi pond is still there. If you lean over the fish will come to see what's going on.
Dip a finger in, and they will 'nibble'!
The beds were freshly planted
and these curious mirrored discs hung from the ceiling. I'm not sure, maybe they are also floodlights.
Exiled in the foyer is Cain/ "...greater than I can bear" by Mullins.

while in the garden sits Eve.

At six o'clock an employee goes round the glass house and closes all the windows.

I only got half way through the first chapter of 'Cranston' before it was time to go.

Maybe I will get back again soon. I hope so.

Happy Birthday Harv!

Harvey is two years old! Worthy of celebration as we were told he was seriously ill last summer.

Bella came to us as a puppy, but Harv was 9months old when we got him. He was a quiet, sensitive dog, too shy to ask to go out. It was hard to learn he was so ill.

Nearly a year on he is big and bouncy, full of long-winded and very smelly dog-stories. Still sensitive and very cuddly, but happier and more independent. Bernese are recommended for all cases of low spirits!

Bones all round!

A Rather Gruesome Business (Charlie R.I.P.)

Those of a sensitive dispostion, better look away! (I am serious about this. Seriously. You have been warned!!!).

Following our move to the country, we became poultry farmers. In a small way - we buy the corn etc, but never seem to make a profit. Maybe because we keep giving the eggs away to nice people.

Charlie was my best hen. She was a Light Sussex. I bought her as an egg off ebay last summer, dutifully turning her 3 times a day and pulling her out of her shell when she pipped it. She was always the first to come running when she spotted me, and if i had no crumbs for her she would stop 4feet away, completely nonplussed (that's my mum! what do i do now?). She laid an egg every day; supermarket-egg-type in size, shape and colour, but we did not hold that against her. On wednesday she started to limp, and then she stopped laying and started spending most of the day in her nesting box. Still eating crumbs though when she was up and about first thing in the morning. Sunday her sore leg was yellow. Yellow? Was it a bruise? A mega-septic leg? We dusted off our poultry books and scoured the internet. LittleSis phoned her vet friend o'er the pond. We went and looked again, DH and I. That wasn't feathers stuck down on her back, that was an ulcer. And that yellow was yolk. Poor, poor Charlie, she had an impacted egg. Isn't that gruesome?

She had to be dispatched. She would have been all scarred up inside even if we could have got the broken egg out, and that's no good for a hen. DH did it.

I have to say, I believe this problem is very uncommon, and poor Charlie was very unfortunate to suffer from it.

We're shaking it off. Helped by the new folk who came back with us from the rare breeds market on Saturday:

Here is Jemima, she will lay chocolate-coloured eggs (no Freudian slips on this blog!) and Blondie, Brunnie and Darkie who are only 14weeks old and already laying the tiniest tinted eggs.

We put Charlie's last three eggs in the incubator, keeping our fingers crossed; I have resolved to take more photos of the hens - if they have names, they ought to have their portraits taken.