Searching for mouse and woodpigeon soup
Every few days I trawl through the search terms that have bought people to the Cottage Smallholder site. It’s worth doing as it exposes gaps in our content. Every search is related to words on the site, but sometimes the relationship is tenuous. Was the search for ‘mouse and woodpigeon soup’ a joke? I’ve not eaten mouse and if it were proffered, I don’t think I’d be keen. A quail is fiddly enough. I must admit that I’ve enjoyed eating pigeon and these definitely weren’t the scrappy residents of...
read moreFresh flowers
Years ago, my mother told me an old Chinese saying. ‘If you only have enough money to buy a loaf of bread, think again. Buy half a loaf and a chrysanthemum. They will both feed you.’ If we don’t have flowers in the house, I feel the difference. When I open the front door and if there are no flowers, there’s a gap. I love flowers. If you have a moment and are near some, take the time to examine them closely. If you get really intimate you’ll see what I mean. It’s another world. Breathtakingly beautiful. Dive...
read moreCottage Smallholder Bookshop
I had my future planned at six years old. I wouldn’t work in an office, discuss the price of meat, sit for hours over Sunday lunch, or get fussed about the weeds in the lawn. In fact I was going to skip across a lawn strewn with daisies to my elegant car and drive to my toy shop. There had been a few months when it was hard to decide whether I would run toy shop or a sweet shop. I finally settled for the toy option: I could always eat sweets whilst I opened the boxes, as this could take some time. Eventually I did have a toy shop of...
read moreMoongazing
Away from the city lights, the sky here is crystal clear and you can easily see the moon and stars. Years ago, living in London during the week, I used to work 18/5 and drive home to the country late on a Friday night. I’d reverse into the drive, and leap out to stand and gaze at the stars, drinking in the stillness and the gigantic moon. Eventually my dog, Fly, would get bored and whine and we’d go inside to lay a fire. I’d make sure that all breaking of twigs took place out of his earshot. He was gunshy and frightened of...
read moreCoffee
Danny is a coffee fanatic. Up pretty early, he has generally had his fourth cup before I open an eye. Basking in the warm bed I gaze at the large cup of tea that he has sweetened with honey and placed gently beside me before tearing downstairs for his next shot. I used to be the same. Tottering downstairs I’d make myself three large mugs of coffee. I had a 20 minute bed to front door time frame and a need to drink three mugs of coffee before I left the house. This forced the invention of an ingenious method of incrementally cooling the...
read moreRat alert from Dr Quito
At seven years old, Dr Q is Senior Dog at the cottage. Content for a couple of years with standard guard dog duties, he grew bored and cast around for a more pivotal role. As Head Rat Monitor he has achieved his dream. A local rat catcher told me that rats tend to move up our village in waves. One house puts down poison and this kills a few rats. Not wanting to live in a funeral parlour, the rest move away to the next house. If their arrival has been undetected they breed fast and quickly boost their numbers. Quito must have overheard this...
read moreThe Larder. Home to our fridge freezer
There is a small larder in the cottage kitchen. It’s one of the rooms that I particularly liked when I looked round for the first time. Colin, the seller, was astonished and explained that if he had stayed it would have gone. They had plans to knock down walls, create more foot space in the kitchen. Thank goodness they moved away. The larder is the old fashioned kind. A real cold room. Built on the north east corner of the cottage it’s always cool as there is an airflow beneath the floor. It’s only five feet square but holds...
read moreThe Dentist
Cleaning my teeth this morning I realised, with a sickening chill, that in under a month I will be visiting the dentist. Despite being frightened, I have gone every three months for the past two years. In the happier, dentist free days of past, I’d visit every seven or eight years. Just for a polish. Occasionally something went wrong and I’d rub on oil of cloves and go to bed very early, hoping for a miracle. But soon even a large slug of brandy wouldn’t dull the pain and I’d dial the dreaded number to book an emergency...
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