Friday 31 December 2010

Deus in machina*

When Stuart placed the bambino Jesus in the crib, he reached over the wall and into the scene. And I mused, possibly less coherently than I'm stating it now: "It looks very deus ex machina; the incarnation wasn't like that." But not until I saw The Nativity, all 4 lots of 30 minutes of it today, had I ever really considered the sheer biological and emotional messiness of it all. God is not outside the machine, setting it whirring and dispassionately observing or even ignoring it; God is fully, intimately involved.

I was going to write more, but I'm tired and it's all gone right out of my head. Probably over-excitement engendered by Ian's excellent quiz. Who knew that Burnley Miners' Club is the world's biggest single consumer of Bénédictine liqueur?

* Deus ex machina doesn't really have an opposite in this sense, but you get the idea.

Thursday 30 December 2010

Nudge nudge

A friend sent me a book called "Nudge" for Christmas (thanks Stephen). It originally hails from the US, but my copy is the "New International Edition", which makes it sound a bit like a Bible translation (but doesn't appear to have influenced the spelling). And I suppose environmental and social activists could use it as a sort-of bible in the modern sense of the word, i.e. as a source of information, advice and ideas for influencing individuals, companies and governments. It's not about 'command and control' policies, but about designing how choices are offered to achieve desirable results, e.g. better eating habits, higher rates of pension scheme membership, more organ donations. Here are a few snippets related to the environment.

Framing
Campaigns to encourage energy efficiency are far more effective if framed in terms of losses than savings. In other words, if you don't insulate your loft, you'll be losing £200 a year to your gas company.

Following the herd
We choose what others choose. For example, people were told about how much energy they and others in their neighbourhood consumed in a week, and whether they were above or below average. In the next week, above-average consumers decreased their energy use. Unfortunately, the below-average consumers increased their use! But half of the households were also given an emoticon to indicate social disapproval :-( of their above-average consumption or social approval :-) of their below-average consumption. In this case, the above-average consumers decreased their energy use even further, while the below-average consumers kept their usage low.

Information disclosure
The Toxic Release Inventory was originally just intended to provide the US Environmental Protection Agency with information about the quantities of potentially hazardous chemicals stored or released into the environment by companies and individuals. It didn't mandate any behavioural change, but resulted in greatly reduced emissions as companies tried to avoid the adverse publicity of being on the 'blacklist'.
Labelling goods with their energy/water consumption when used (A-G rating) and ideally their embodied energy (energy consumed in their manufacture and maybe transport) helps in making decisions over whether to replace that old washing machine, and if so, with which model.

Feedback
Often we don't have immediate feedback on the consequences of our choices; the cost of turning up the thermostat isn't apparent until our next monthly or quarterly energy bill. Smart meters are being rolled out across the country, but will only provide information about your consumption back to the electricity companies. Many local libraries have stocks of electricity monitors for borrowing, and these will tell you how much electricity you are using at any one time - it may well be shocking!

Wednesday 29 December 2010

Thaw

An awakening to above-zero temperatures, and the snow has mostly disappeared. My eyes are relieved from the insistent incident whiteness. Colours, which had been erased from the canvas, have been re-painted - the muted olives, bronzes, khakis, greys and coppers of dogwood, winter grass, bark and beech leaves. Scenes have regained their depth and three-dimensionality.

Another walk by the Thames with a friend and her children. There are still some patches of ice under the banks, thick enough for a little light moorhen strutting. The ground is still frozen, overlain by a thin layer of sodden grass and mud.

Tuesday 28 December 2010

Frivolous research

TED posts the occasional 'best of the rest' on its Facebook page, and directed me to this fascinating talk by Prof Tim Birkhead. He describes a little of how we know what we know about birds. For example, only male canaries sing. But, when synthetic testosterone became available in the 1940s, unscrupulous canary breeders found that giving their female canaries a shot would cause them to burst into song for a time. In the 1970s, some researchers questioned how this could be, and found that the shots of testosterone caused new neurones to grow in the birds' brains. Scientists thought that was totally impossible; the conventional wisdom was that the neurones we're born with in our brain, are the ones we will die with. So one frivolous study of canaries changed the direction of neurobiology; if you know how to grow new neurones, then you can repair brain damage.

So to quote Birkhead: "In today's climate, the government is looking very closely at the kind of research that they fund, and they think that things like studying birdsong is kind of frivolous research. What possible economic benefits could there be from that? But in fact, birdsong is one of the most powerful examples of why you should fund 'frivolous' research, because the study of birdsong holds the promise of a cure for Alzheimers."

Monday 27 December 2010

For'n parts

A hop,skip and a jump by car, train and bus, and I'm with my parents in Abingdon for a short break. There is a lot of activity in their garden, with a wheeling flock of black-headed gulls being shadowed by a greater black-backed. A red kite loomed huge and low - "we see them all the time".

We walked out of town past the house we moved from in 1973 to Thrupp Lake, a local wildlife oasis formed from a flooded gravel pit. The owners, npower, planned to fill it with fly ash from Didcot power station, but it was saved by locals and is now managed by the Northmoor Trust. One or two swans and a substantial number of the hundreds of coots came over to say hello, and presumably in search of food. Eight swans took off in formation and circled behind us. I thought they'd gone, but then one returned over our heads, and skated on the ice before settling into the water, and the others soon followed. A heron stayed aloof, huddled on the edge of the ice in the middle of the lake. And then it became skittish, several times making as if to launch into flight, but just moving a few metres. There were also a few ducks, including diving tufted ducks, and some very small grey ducks with black heads and tails that I can't work out but could I suppose have been juvenile coots. The power station fly ash was put to much better use in the fabrication of breeze blocks for buildings like Mucknell.

We then headed to the railway and the Thames, accompanied by the noise of revving motorbikes. More ducks, a black swan, a skein of something I couldn't identify (should have taken the binoculars and camera), a small swarm of sparrows, and unexpectedly a cormorant. Well, the RSPB says "it is increasingly being seen inland at reservoirs, lakes and gravel pits."

Sunday 26 December 2010

Mmm... Boxing Day

Got up... Went to chapel... Thought about going for a walk in the fog... Found some Ashes highlights online instead... Read some Brother Cadfael... Ate a lot... More chapel... Turned in...

Saturday 25 December 2010

Merry Christmas!

It started foggy, but the sun soon burnt it off, even though temperatures stayed well below zero all day. The roof of the chapel sparkled against the deep blue zenith, and steamed as the snow sublimated. The boiler flue also billowed steam, which rose vertically, as the boiler worked hard to keep us warm. Mucknell is still a winter wonderland, and from my window the snow looked pale blue as if it were reflecting the sky. A strand of spider's web outside the refectory window was covered in hoarfrost - natural tinsel - spinning in the very slightest breeze. There are animal and bird tracks criss-crossing everywhere, even in the thin layer of snow covering the ice in the pond and swales. A couple of birds, probably crows, have landed on Mucknell Mount (the mound screening the boiler shed), walked across the summit, and taken off again. Sunset brought a brilliant strip of orange framing the Malverns.

Saturday is meter-reading day. Being proper scientists/data-junkies/geeks (delete as appropriate), we made no exception for Christmas Day. The solar panels have been covered in snow all week, and no way of geting up there to clear them. While photovoltaics will still generate some electricity when covered with a thin layer of snow that lets some sunlight through, we've had too much. So despite the brilliant blue skies, solar electricity and hot water generation have been zero.

And we finished the day singing Compline by candlelight.

Friday 24 December 2010

Around the crib

Bethlehem is situated within the West Bank, around which Israel is constructing a separation barrier. In some cases, the wall has separated Palestinian villages from their farmland. Ian and I based the crib on this political situation, and used some of the actual graffiti from this wall and the Gaza Strip separation barrier. On the left behind the holy family, is a reproduction of the Creation of Adam from the Sistine Chapel; in the centre, a tree with the words "Rejoice Palestine"; on the right, the dove of peace in a flak jacket, with sights trained upon it; out of shot, Banksy's girl with balloons.

Will the magi be allowed through?


God of justice,
you were born into an occupied land torn apart by anger, greed and insecurity;
be born in our hearts and make us instruments of justice for all peoples.
Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus.

Vulnerable God,
you were born and lived among the homeless, the marginalised and the poor;
be born in our hearts and make us instruments of healing.
Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus.

God of peace,
you were born as a light to Israel and all nations;
be born in our hearts and make us instruments of peace.
Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus.

Thursday 23 December 2010

Save Our Forests *

Imagine the following forests and woodlands being fenced off or logged, or turned into Center Parcs and golf courses - Forest of Dean, New Forest, Sherwood Forest, parts of Dartmoor managed by the Forestry Commission - and sign this petition against it... now!! Defra announced the plans in a letter to MPs on 29 October. I missed this the first time round, and nearly missed it this time round too. So bear with me if you've already protested. 38 Degrees have provided a short campaign briefing. The Forest of Dean has mobilised a Hands off our Forest campaign. I'd better not add what I think of our current 'government'.

In other news, I have made bread for the first time since leaving Broad Marston and the thumb incident. It was good to get back to it, but kneading was hard work! Preparations are continuing for Christmas. We have sang the last of the Great Os, 'O Emmanuel'. The product of seasonal tree-logging will be decorated tomorrow.

* I know there are lots of other things to protest about. This issue seemed to me to be in the spirit of the blog, and I am very angry about it. Thanks.

Wednesday 22 December 2010

Guttering

Where did today go? Snow played a large part. Temperatures have occasionally managed to get to just above zero in the past few days, and we have had some thawing and refreezing, resulting in some impressive icicles. But all the gutters are struggling under the weight of thawed and refrozen ice and a roof-ful of snow. We noticed a section within the courtyard bending under the strain, and managed to clear it before any broke off, but were too late with most of the west side of the building. We don't have ladders long enought to reach the two-storey buildings, and are hoping that any avalanches don't take the gutters with them.

Tuesday 21 December 2010

Off-white

The shortest day, so now the evenings will get longer more than the mornings get shorter. I tried looking out for the 'red moon', a total eclipse of the full moon in the shadow of the earth. The redness comes from sunlight which passes through earth's atmosphere, is refracted on the way, then reflected back by the moon to earth. The winter solstice and red moon haven't coincided since 1638. Unfortunately I couldn't see the moon, either because I was looking in the wrong direction, or because it was too low in the horizon to creep over the slightly higher ground to the northwest, or because it was drowned out by the orange glow of Worcester, or because of plain-old cloud. So a friend sent: "A text 4 u then. Ps 145.3-6. Even if there is no red moon to see."

Like yesterday, not really a day for going out much, but a group of us ventured through the sleet into Pershore. The snow that looks so beautiful and pristine on the fields and hedgerows had become ugly treacherous slush on the roads and carparks (there's an allegory in there somewhere). We could barely get out of the lane onto the main road - Ian and Thomas had to push while I kept a look out for traffic - or the carpark.

Monday 20 December 2010

Libraries

The skies were grey and white and heavy with snow during the morning, and an inch or so fell during the afternoon. Not a day for going out much, and spent instead unpacking boxes of books. Finally the library is beginning to look like a library, and the poetry and fiction are finding their way to the community room.

We've found that the pipes from the rainwater harvesting tank hadn't been lagged and so have frozen - see posting on 8 December to work out the implications of this.

We also had another wee practice of the 'simple' music we're planning to sing at the crib service. By George, I think the basses have got it! I have Noteworthy Composer on my laptop, and can play accompaniments and/or 'supporting' lines through the TV speakers in the community room and the audio system in the oratory. I don't think they'll need support for our little a cappella number, but I could let on about the library of accompaniments available on the Net Hymnal website...

Sunday 19 December 2010

Zoom zoom

John and Denise and family came over from Worcester for a spot of sledging down the new landscaping. We had a few challenges! The slope down to the north of the Abbey needs to level out a bit more gently for it to be ideal, as it caused quite a few runs to come to an abrupt halt. And the snow needs to be a bit deeper to cushion the lumps of bare earth; my coccyx is feeling the effects! And their marvellously excitable dog Virginia Woof was running in front of the toboggan and biting our boots, only narrowly avoiding being run over, which was a little off-putting! All rounded off with a cup of tea or other beverage of choice.

Just before tea, a blue tit appeared at the top of one of the refectory windows. I was surprised to see it, as it is a garden rather than a farmland bird, and there are no peanut feeders here. It hovered briefly as if confused, before visiting the corners, presumably for some foodstuff. A few seconds later, it re-entered stage right and zoomed at the boiler shed, took evasive action by cornering impressively, and cornered again to disappear round the side.

Saturday 18 December 2010

Visibility and obscurity

Not surprisingly, the morning began with snow, a heavy enough 'white out' that looked like dense fog. It had stopped by mid-morning, so Thomas and I went out to clear the incline. By lunchtime, it had started snowing again and our efforts were obscured. Not wasted effort, as there'll be a bit less to clear tomorrow, and we were visited by an angel.


In the morning, Anthony pointed out a group of meadow pipits. According to the RSPB, "In winter they are quite gregarious and gather in small flocks, often invisible among the vegetation", unless said vegetation happens to be largely covered in snow, in which case they are very visible indeed.

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, up to a depth of about 6 inches by dusk. Not much compared with some areas, but enough to soften the edges, drift picturesquely around chapel, put little hats on the bollard lights and provide a piste for tobogganing (on compost bags filled with snow). And enough to make us wonder whether the lane will be passable tomorrow.

Friday 17 December 2010

'O Sapientia'

We woke up to another slight dusting of snow, nothing like elsewhere in the country.
Dawn was a sickly band of yellow under a dark louring cloud, and it was still almost dark after Lauds at 7.30am. I'll be glad when sunrise starts getting later again (not until about two weeks after the solstice). But the sun did manage to come out, and by lunchtime the snow had mostly cleared.

The biomass boiler has continued to throw up occasional 'overfill of combustion chamber' faults, and an engineer from the installers came today and made some tweaks to the set-up, which should solve the problem. The boiler had to be cool, and he was due at 8.30am, so we switched it off after Compline. But that gave us a chance to test whether the LPG had been fixed and was capable of fulfilling its back-up role... which it was.

Today is 'O Sapientia', as we enter the last seven days of Advent and start singing the Great O Antiphons with the Magnificat. The O Antiphons are most well known as the source material for the hymn 'O come, O come, Emmanuel'. Each one is a title for the Messiah, and each draws partly on the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah. The first letters of the titles taken backwards form an acrostic - "Ero Cras" - which translates to "Tomorrow, I will come".

Latin:
O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem,
fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

English:
O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching from one end to the other mightily,
and sweetly ordering all things:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.

Thursday 16 December 2010

Bluster

Here is a 'mood view' of House at Poo Corner with hoarfrost and sunset.


The House is a small-yet-over-sized ever-so-slightly-ridiculous not-very-aerodynamic shed, which houses the electric pumps, which pump air into the biodigester. It was a rather blustery day, and the poor shed was blown away, along with a water butt (unattached so unweighted by water), and a plastic wheelbarrow (nearly, but thankfully not, into the greenhouse). We also had a lot of other weather, including rain, sheeting rain, sleeting rain, low cloud, sunny intervals and a double rainbow. It's not very desirable for electric pumps to be open to sheeting rain, and one poor workman was out in it, trying to fix the shed before it got dark. By tea-time, the side of Bredon was white with snow. I wonder what we will wake up to. Or rather, up to what we will wake...

Wednesday 15 December 2010

Cold weather risks

Another "Arctic blast" is forecast to reach the UK from tomorrow. We didn't get much snow here last time, and probably won't this time either. But all this cold weather has a serious impact on human health, and not just from slipping on ice. Figures from the Office for National Statistics show that in winter 2009/10, there were an estimated 25,400 excess winter deaths in England and Wales, which is a 16.6% increase compared to mortality rates during the rest of the year. Older people are particularly at risk - the increase among the over 85s was 23.4% - but young people are not exempt. The Mirror ran an article yesterday on "A day in the life of an NHS hospital": "SAFARI Ward [in Queen Elizabeth Hospital, in Woolwich, SE London] is for children aged from one day through to 16 years old. Today 70% of the residents are babies suffering breathing problems because of the cold weather." The excess is mostly linked to circulatory and respiratory diseases, and is particularly high during winters when seasonal influenza reaches epidemic levels. So try and keep warm, between 18 and 21 °C, avoid shivering, wrap up warmly outside and wear a hat, and be sensible!

At the beginning of the Eucharist, I could hear what sounded like a broken record of a Tawny owl. Not really their time of day, so it might have been someone wheezing close by or the carpenter drilling further off, but I could hear it again during Vespers. Anthony says he's heard a couple of Barn owls chatting down the field in the early morning, and there are one or two living in one of the willows along the stream.

Tuesday 14 December 2010

Muckenhill

The available history of Mucknell is somewhat patchy, that is at least, the history which is available via Google. At some point, it became merged in the manor of Stoulton and followed the same descent.

A tree-ring analysis of samples from three timbers in the farmhouse showed that "the (probably) two trees represented were felled in the late spring or very early summer of 1439". The rest of the farmhouse was a mix of more modern building and had little heritage merit; when it was demolished, we preserved these 15th century crooks.  The tree-ring analysis gives somemore of the history: "In 1625 the Manor of Stoulton was sold to Samuel Sandys of Ombersley. Due to his involvement in the Civil War, Sandys mortgaged the property to the Somers family of Worcester, who subsequently acquired the freehold before 1716. It was bequeathed in that year to by John Somers to his two sisters, one of whom, Mary Cocks, inherited the whole. It was in the hands of her grandson, Sir Charles Cocks by 1781, at which time the estate covered about two thirds of the parish and was worth about £1050 per annum."

In Kelly's directory for 1900, 1904 and 1908, one Frank Smithin is listed as a Farmer at Muckenhill, Stoulton. Frank Smithin (1867-1916) was the son of Joseph and Elizabeth. He was born at Wadborough in 1867; registered at Pershore in the June quarter. At the 1891 census, aged 23, he was at home at Wadborough Farm. At the 1901 census he was living at Hill Farm, Stoulton. He died, aged 49, on the 17th June 1916; registered at Pershore in the June quarter. There is a memorial at Stoulton. Some time after this, Muckenhill Farm was put up for sale. According to the auction folder, the farmhouse had a well, six bedrooms, a servant's room, two store rooms, an American range and two furnaces. The farm was 198 acres in size, for which rental was £107 15s 0d.

Mucknell itself was a working farm and potato chipping business until 2004. By 2008, when we bought it, much of the land had been sold off and the farm buildings were derelict.

Various suggestions have been made about the root meaning of Mucknell. The one which finds most favour with us is "hill with a large [Anglo-Saxon: muckle] view".

Monday 13 December 2010

Mokenhulle

History of the name and the place continued, derived from information I could find on Google. Today's source: what else but taxation records

Domesday had proceeded on a manorial division, and Mucenhil was a berewick of the manor of Kempsey.

By the time of the "Lay subsidy roll for the county of Worcester, circ. 1280", in the reign of Edward I, Mucenhil had become Mokenhulle. The 1280 Roll proceeds on the division into vills, which may or not be parishes, and Mokenhulle is listed separately. The introduction to the 1893 edition for the Worcestershire Historical Society makes the assumption that all householders were taxed towards the subsidy and therefore that the Roll shows the number of householders in each vill. Under Mokenhulle, the Roll lists Robert son of Walter, Walter le Vinch, Alicia of Mokenhulle, Richard of the same and Adam of the same, who together paid taxes of £4 7s 4d. Note that the inclusion of Alicia of Mokenhulle in the list of tax-payers indicates that she was a property owner in her own right.

In the "Lay subsidy roll for the county of Worcester : Edward I. [i.e. III]" (1895 edition), Mokenhulle is listed under Kempsey, and the detail is lost among a wider group of tax-payers. John of Mokenhulle is listed as paying variously 8d and 9d, but there may be others.

Later in the reign of Edward III, the "Lay subsidy rolls, A.D. 1346, and A.D. 1358" (1900 edition), list aid for knighting the King's eldest son: "And 60s. from Thomas de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, for one fee and a half in Muckenhill and Stockton, which William de Beauchamp formerly held, etc." Muckenhill is the Victorian version of the name.

Sunday 12 December 2010

Mucenhil

On reflection, my previous post asking for requests was a mistake. This blog is a scrapbook of things that have interested me. If they interest anyone else, that's a bonus, but I'm not writing for an audience. Sorry!

My body has returned from Devon, but my mind hasn't caught up with it yet, and I haven't really been 'present' all day. So it's good to remind myself of the roots of this place. Mucknell Farm goes back at least as far as the Domesday Book of 1086, where it appears as 'Mucenhil'. The relevant paragraph is translated:
"Of this manor Urse the sheriff holds 3 BEREWICKS of 7 hides, Mucknell, Stoulton, Upper Wolverton. There are 7 ploughs, and 7 villans and 7 bordars and 7 slaves, and 16 acres of meadow. For these 3 estates farm was rendered TRE, for they were always for the sustenance. They are worth 100s."
And by way of further explanation:
  • BEREWICK - Derived from the Old English word for corn farm, referring to an outlying holding within a manor, separate but taxed as a part of that manor.
  • hide - Measurement of land for tax assessment, of approximately 120 acres, depending on local variations in the acre.
  • plough - A plough team with its eight oxen and the plough itself. The measure of a hide was originally the amount of land which such a team could plough in one day.
  • villan or villagers - Member of the peasant class with the most land.
  • bordar or smallholder - Middle class of peasant, usually with less land than a villager but more than a cottager.
  • slave - A man or woman who owed personal service to another, and unable to move home or work or change allegiance, to buy or to sell, without permission.
  • TRE - "Tempora Regis Eduardis", that is, in the time of King Edward the Confessor; by implication, when all in the realm was legally correct and ownership would have been rightfully secured.
  • sustenance - That is, of the bishop of the Church of St Mary of Worcester.
  • 100s - Shillings, for accounting purposes (there was no actual coin).

Wednesday 8 December 2010

Request for requests

Yesterday the mains water supply went. Today the rainwater harvesting went, so no water in the loos. We haven't had much rain, so the tank had emptied, and the floats that were meant to trigger a mains top-up had tangled. Destructive testing R Us, and back came the guys.

I'm now away in Devon for a few days, so there will be a bit of an intermission. Thank you to everyone who reads my ramblings (more than 2,000 page views in the last month!), and for all your comments. If there's anything you'd particularly like to know about, subject to me knowing anything about it and to any necessary privacy, please leave a request in the comments.

Tuesday 7 December 2010

Water and ice

Lots of architects, builders, contractors and sub-contractors turned up for the site meeting today. And a few workmen too, for good measure, looking into the water pumps, manifolds, thermostats, etc. It's my turn to clean, and of course as soon as I swabbed some deck or other, a few muddy boots immediately tramped past. So I reluctantly (!) gave up.When they'd all gone, we found that we were without water... so some of them came straight back and found that the pumps had been re-set up wrongly. They figure they may as well move in. They'll be back tomorrow.

Temperatures were down to -8 °C at Pershore last night, and it was probably even colder here. There was an incredible hoarfrost more than a centimetre long on the trees. Most of the colours were whites and browns, with the occasional splash of green ivy, yellow lichen and red hips. As I was wandering around trying to take representative photos, a fieldfare hopped ahead of me on the tree-guards, just like the robin leading the children to the beavers in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Monday 6 December 2010

Disappointments

We awoke to fog and went to bed with the fog still persisting. Around lunchtime workmen started popping up to work on the snags, because tomorrow is the One Month On site meeting by when all the snags were supposed to have been fixed. I have written previously of Mucknell as an earthly paradise, but today is a good chance to redress the balance and get a bunch of bad news out in one go in time-honoured political fashion. You have to expect snags with a new building, but here's a list of disappointments that are harder to deal with. They are both mine and others' (at the risk of misrepresenting them).
  • Having to wait until the cusp of winter before moving in, and then have heating issues to deal with when it's cold, snowy, icy and frosty, and mud outside instead of incipient grass.
  • There are squillions of security lights and other gadgets that seemingly have to be on all the time, consuming electricity.
  • There are concerns regarding the trade-off between insulation and allowing the old building to breathe - just how sustainable is the building?
  • We asked for excellent sound-proofing, but are still able to hear movements next door and above or below, and especially water running.
  • Then there are the other noises: the squeaky flooring in the corridors; the fire panel humming in the Oratory; the underfloor heating manifolds whining in concert; the water pumps in the basement shuddering; and the malfunctioning security lights beeping.
  • Stuff not finished very well, or not properly installed, or not done in the way that was requested.
  • I was hoping that I would be able to sit and look out of my window, but it is too high.
  • The new community building is reminiscent of a row of 1960s maisonettes.
  • It feels as though some of the design has had an institution in mind, rather than a home.
  • And I expect there are others.

Sunday 5 December 2010

Gin o'clock :-)

In the last hour of sun, I went for a second walk on the footpaths to the east, with Mary this time, and taking slightly different turnings through slightly different fields. Between the track and a series of paddocks, there was a strip of sunflowers, heads now bowed and shrivelled, but still providing sustenance for wintering birds. A flock of partridges whirred out of the long grass as we approached, and further on a flock of smaller birds. They could well have been redwings, but it was difficult to tell as they flew into silhouette.

A couple of bottles of sloe gin are now sitting in my ensuite... only to remind me to shake them every day for the next week, honest! The recipe says it'll be a couple of months before they're ready, so maybe in time to celebrate England's victory in the Ashes, T20 and ODI series down under... or something more monastic, such as Candlemas!

Saturday 4 December 2010

Lifting fog

There was fog to start, and the potential for icy roads, and I was worried that the wood chip lorry wouldn't get here. But he arrived at 9-ish, and the fog suddenly lifted as I brought him a cup of tea (milk and 2 sugars). So we now have fuel - hooray! We  chatted for a while about the fuel supply. He operates out of a depot near Worcester about 8 miles away. They source the wood from a radius of 10 miles or so, and do their own chipping, so it is a local operation. The chip is delivered by weight. He has a widget in the cab that he sets at 6.5 tonnes and it counts down as the lorry gradually tips and the chip is blown into the store. They're under pressure to deliver in this weather, as consumption doubles in the cold, and we'll need another delivery in 10-14 days.

So the electric oil-filled radiators can be put away again, although we'll probably keep the wood-fired stove going in the refectory. The LPG boiler has so far been as much use for back-up heating as a wet blanket but hopefully someone will come and repair it next week.

Friday 3 December 2010

Holidays

I took Ian to the station today, and hopefully he will make it to Coventry and Kent. Gabriel managed to get back from Kent and Burford. Mary is stranded in more then 20 inches of snow near Chesterfield. Anthony and Thomas have probably got to Ayrshire and the New Forest, but will they make it back? I have to say it's quite hard work keeping things going without them, mentally as well as physically - that is, seeing other people under pressure and wondering whether there's anything more I should or could be doing to help.

A bit more shovelling of wood chip, and praying hard that the chip lorry will get throuhg tomorrow. Apparently the company asked Thomas whether we wanted a delivery on Tuesday, but he said later in the week would be fine. He may not want to get back from holiday; he's going to get lynched!

Thursday 2 December 2010

Warming activity

It's the weather for doing active jobs, rather than sitting and reading or surfing.

I swept the sloping part of the drive again, in a meditative kind of way, and saluted the Sainsbury man and the HDN man as they drove up to deliver stuff. We're not quite getting all of our food locally as yet, although Stoulton Farm Shop (founded more than 70 years ago) is an excellent source of fruit, veg and eggs, and there's a good butcher with meat from local farms. The Sainsbury man brought me my gin, so the sloes will come out of the freezer soon... and there are some still in the hedgerows if necessary. Anthony says the birds don't eat sloes except as a last resort, because the thorns can be lethal. They certainly make pretty enscriptions on my hands and forearms.

Then I started assembling a flat-pack desk (which the box says is made from FSC certified wood products), until I found one of the plastic bits (so not entirely FSC certified wood products) was broken, at which point I had to go on an extended quest for superglue. Maybe I'll finish that tomorrow too.

After supper, we all got into the wood chip store and shovelled chip into the path of the machinery. I was boiled at Compline; Henry Ford was right.

Wednesday 1 December 2010

Chip chop

I walked in the snow down to the solitary oak and along the stream. As happened by the railway line, I got close to the buzzard without seeing it, then caught a brief flash of tallit as it flushed. I stood for a while listening to its mews, from somewhere in the line of trees running north, but it didn't reappear.

We're getting low on wood chip, and hoping we'll hold out out until our next delivery on Saturday. And we're hoping that they'll be able to get here! We have cleared the snow off the sloping part of the drive, but more snow is forecast tonight and on Saturday, so we expect to have to do it again. We also chopped some wood for the stove in the refectory, and inaugurated it, snuggling round at tea-time. Old Chinese Proverb (well, actually Henry Ford): "Chop your own wood, and it will warm you twice."

Incidentally, google "How much wood would a wood chip chop if a wood chip would chop wood?" and you get the answer 13.  Hmmm.