Bere Regis Summer Fair

A great place to spend an afternoon.

 The old schoolhouse (below) and plaque above its door (above) - also an eye test

Lodgers

After the stress of the Blackbird/Crow 'incident' at the weekend, I'd hoped that birds would leave me in peace for a bit. But...there have been two male pheasants with modest tails hanging around the house. When Sylvia and I returned from 'business' this afternoon, there they were hanging around. They were being persecuted by a cat and of course I chased it off. They're so grateful (groan) that they've moved in. I suppose a fox will get them tonight and I'll find the feathers in the morning...

Synchronised visitors

Silly pheasant didn't like the camera

Bluebells at Blackbury Camp

Sylvia and I popped in to this suitably sylvan setting on the way back from DIY duties. For those who haven't visited, Blackbury Camp is an Iron Age hill fort (with ramparts - no pics), now surrounded by beautiful woodland. The Bluebells were much bluer two or three weeks ago.

Chick in a beak

It's Saturday.
Grrrr - no time to lose. My mind was empty and I wondered (vaguely) what there would be to blog about. The room is looking fabulous and, as yesterday, finished hours of brush strokes (no roller today) by collapsing in the usual chair in the garden. 

I was aware of Blackbirds making a dreadful noise in the background. There were power tools grinding away and the usual Chiffchaff, so I didn't take much notice at first. A long while later I investigated and the Crows, which have a nest directly above and to the left of Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird had paid a visit to their smaller black neighbours. I saw the two of them getting stuck into something that I couldn't see - and guessed the worst. But it got worse. 

The Crows took their time, whilst Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird howled and hopped around in a distressed frenzy close by. I couldn't escape what was going on because it was so close and I was in the equivalent of the front of the upper circle. I took loads of pictures over the next hour and was mesmerised. 

THEN when I happened to be looking through the binoculars I watched one of the Crows go to the Blackbirds' nest and come out with a chick in its beak. It was such a shock. It was a large feathered brown chick, not tiny bald spiky and pink. They took it to the same branch and then flew off with it. That's when I tried to take more pictures.

The Crows with a Blackbird chick - which is hidden behind the leaves

This was poor Mrs. Blackbird, in a frenzy between the Crows and her nest. What do you do in that situation? Could she bear or dare to take a peak? She (and her husband) was wagging her little tail like mad, as if it would bring them back.

Poor Mrs. Blackbird in terrible distress

All this went on for hours this afternoon and through this evening. I had a good view from the kitchen and was so absorbed that I turned one oven on and set the temperature on another. 

It's just gone 10.00pm and it's almost dark - and now very quiet. Spare a thought for Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird. 

A Painter's Day

When I woke up this morning I thought it was Saturday. Felt marginally sorry for myself, thinking of everyone else beginning a fun-filled long weekend. A thought entered my head that it was Thursday yesterday... and I perked up immediately when I realised that it must be Friday yippee. It's still a working day. 

I wasn't keen to get stuck into painting the final coat of the walls, so I began by putting up a picture. Obviously, not in the room that I'm painting. Made a list of the rest of the day as follows.

I'm rationing the latex gloves I bought with the paint etc. Only four left.

Tried Radio 4 again. Switched on to the beginning of 'The History of Tax'.

Switched off.

Windows opened wide so listened to birds instead.

Nearly stopped to see what noisy crow was up to. Maybe another Gull fight.

How desperate am I to down tools? 

Distracted by two Wood Pigeons drinking from bird bath.

Water needs replenishing.

Tea. Took picture of equally skiving Blackbird.

I took a break from painting - Mr. Blackbird took a sneaky break from feeding his hungry family

Tried Radio 4 again. 'Which banks are best? Big or small'. Not much to choose between them apparently.

Switched off.

Noisy Pheasant was driving me mad.

Downed tools and took a picture. 

Mr. Pheasant has driven himself mad with the dreadful din he's been making all day

Took pictures of a boat. Ant-sized so far away.

Big push to finish walls.

Tried radio again. ISIS and Syria this time.
Switched off after listening for a bit.

Done at 4.30pm (pm obviously). Would have to work on motivation/enthusiasm to paint all night.

Pooped.

Tea.

Collapsed (not literally) in chair in the garden.

Birds still making a lot of noise. 

I checked that there was a Goldcrest, and it was. 

Couldn't settle with all the flitting and chirruping.

Read Phil's blog www.acrosstheearth.weebly.com

Put sunglasses on.

Unsuccessfully tried to take sneaky pictures of busy birds.

Had a beer.

Fridays are alright.

Painting and all that jazz

That's what I've been doing all week - and not in any Picasso sense. It's hard thinking about anything other than the next brush/roller move when you're painting a ceiling/walls. I've lumped them because it's the same principle. Then it's moving the ladder. Before that, it's moving the stuff that's in the way of where you want to put the ladder. 

I haven't done this for a while and had to think hard to remember which order things have to be done in. I prepared surfaces and taped edges and covered light fittings and all that jazz. When filthy and plastered grey/brown, I carried out an audit of materials and annoyingly had to go shopping. I can do shopping. Ceilings. Yes, they have to come first. Then - walls or paintwork? It's one or the other, so I opted for walls first.

Paid painters usually listen to loud pop music on an actual radio and expect whoever's in the house to make them tea - and whoever's in the neighbourhood to listen to the music. I thought it might help to get into character, so I began by finding a pre-digital radio from my store of two in the might-be-useful-one-day cupboard (I don't keep much in there). I thought I'd re-acquaint myself with Radio 4. Not such a good plan. I was so focussed on the brush/roller moves that I found it annoyingly distracting. The accents haven't changed and the focus is even more high-brow. The dramas (three or four) were over-acted and unconvincing. Also - why do we need digital radios? I needed tea, but it's hard to break away to make it. When you eventually get back, you can't see where you left off.

There have been bigger and more troublesome issues. I don't know how to take a radiator off a wall to paint behind it. I have to be able to paint behind/underneath. Of course, I used a radiator-sized roller and for some unexplainable reason, they're not quite long enough grrrr. I was told not to interfere with the light fitting and so I didn't unscrew it from the ceiling (although I'm sure I could have done). And then... worst of all...the damp crumbly plaster above the window. Oh dear. The window is coming out soon and chunks of the wall will go with it. That's when I'll have to bring out the tube of pollyfilla. I'd forgotten about that. Yes, I have successfully filled some holes but am unsuccessful at getting the ceiling ones to lie flat. I just can't motivate myself. I've decided that these are my trademark. 

It was difficult enough buying the stuff. How do you know whether the cracks/holes need expandable/quick drying/deep holes/shallow holes/not drop out of holes, etc. etc. There was almost an isle of tubes and tubs. I nearly bought one of each...just in case. There didn't seem to be one for 'easy smooth ceiling holes'. The paint was problematic too. I couldn't haul a large ceiling container into the trolley so bought a smaller one. As for eggshell paint. I thought that was it - just plain eggshell. No. There's dull, medium and the one that comes above that. I guessed at dull, and I was right yippee! (I checked it against a leftover, in case you're wondering).

In my 'focus', I left my camera behind and couldn't even take pictures of patterned rows of fillers and paint pots and interesting shaped gadgets. Strangely enough and very unusually, I didn't even feel like it. The emergent tradesperson (painter/decorator) is competing with my Picasso self and is winning. The quicker I get it done, the sooner I can get my self back. Maybe music is the answer...

The audit 

(and the only colourful picture of the week)

Smell the roses

That's just what I did this afternoon. I sat in a quiet circular walled garden, in dappled shade.  

Peeking at the sea - not the walled garden

The walled garden plus super-water feature

A lustily singing Chaffinch outsinging the water feature

I'm missing spending all day with birds.

The seat

Some rain battered roses

Metal fish on flint artyness

Sea, Pub and Tree

This is the view from one of my windows. Pretty good, I'd say. You have the sea, the Anchor Pub down below and the tree on the left. Mr. and Mrs. Crow have taken up residence in the tree. This is only newsworthy because there have been several Mr. and Mrs. Herring Gulls noisily nesting by chimney pots on nearby roofs - up until now. 

There was an almighty aerial battle this morning between one of the the Mr. and Mrs. Crows and a Herring Gull. Unfortunately I didn't get to my camera in time. It was fast and furious and black and white. 

I'll try to get a bird in the picture next time...

Home/Summer is coming

I can't give you any pictures of actual 'home' because it's not that interesting today - although it will be soon. You'll have to be satisfied with the beach, which was fabulous. The sun was shining, the waves were lapping (not lunging), the deckchairs were waiting, the beach cafes were open, the boats were preparing, early tourists were marvelling...and I took some pictures.

Snappy London

Stormy Seas

Leaving Frankenstein Country

Carpets of orchids by the roadside

Travelling through Griffin Vulture country

Snowy mountains

More unidentified roadside flowers

Tugs in waiting

Wounded soldier

She arrived three hours late. All was quiet for a very long time. No vehicles appeared. Her bow doors had jammed. We waited and waited and waited with the bikers, truckers, dog walkers, cyclists, car fiddlers and brightly dressed shorts wearing returnees. She eventually turned full circle in the dark to let vehicles out of the stern... backwards for many. A few more hours passed. It's hard to get comfortable in a super vehicle when you want to go to bed. The cafe was re-opened. People quietened and the less restless slept in their cars. Lucky old camper and caravaners. The leather-clad bikers must have been freezing, which could have been the reason for the cafe re-opening. 

In the early hours of the morning we made it onto the boat, doing a u-turn inside and parking awkwardly. We abandoned the car in the ship and headed for the cabin and a bed. The fact that the boat was a wounded soldier gave me the creeps. Bow doors and all that. The sea was initially lively which doesn't suit my overactive imagination. I couldn't think of anything else but Kate and Leo swimming along dark corridors. I coincidentally happened to be reading a short story about a drowned husband. A giant rolling sea-saw, juddering and creaking. I wore my head torch on my wrist just in case. 

Here I am at home writing this. It didn't turn out badly after all. Another adventure looms. Off to London tomorrow.