Our First Road Kill meal.

Ralph spotted a dead deer and on close inspection it was obvious it had been hit on her back legs which broke both kegs and shattered her pelvis. She was intact and not smelly with even her eyes still in place.

To cut a long grisly story short, Ralph butchered and I washed and wrapped the joints and put them all in the freezer. There is a bag for Moss too of course.

The only part we kept fresh id the fillet which is at present making nice warm dinnery smells in the kitchen.

It feels very satisfying to be eating wild venison for no cost except a little effort.

(Readers may have read a previous post about the "road kill" pheasant, well that of course counts as wild food except for the fact that pheasants are bred for shooting and are really factory farmed, albeit a big factory with plenty of light and scope to wander).

Bertie coming to stay.

To follow swiftly on from the depressing post...

Bertie is coming to me on loan on Monday evening. He will live at the back of my back garden. He is a 10 year old Norwegian Fjord. He is so sweet, isn't he?

I swore never to have a pony again and that is why he is coming on loan. We will see how it goes...I have a history of difficult relationships with horses, like many many people, but Bertie seems to be particularly sweet and amenable. So fingers crossed!

Looking after Dad.

I have tried to paint a positive picture of my move to Speyside. Of course it is beautiful, there are many ways to spend time and I have enjoyed the best winter the area has seen for 3 years. So what is the downside?
The clue is in the title.
Caring for someone reaching the end of their lives is always going to be difficult I think. I moved up here to enjoy the outdoor life but the main reason for being here is to be here for Dad.
Last winter he was on the edge of death and I was convinced with daily contact (twice daily actually, sometimes, 3 times a day) I would have a positive impact on his health and state of mind.
Perhaps at first, I did. He has multiple health problems as anyone of 82 does. He had a stroke just under 3 years ago when Mum died. He has mainly recovered from that but it did result in Parkinsons Disease. He has had Menieres Disease for many years and this causes inbalance and nausea.
Actually what is the biggest problem is his failure to eat and drink enough. This causes a UTI, then he drinks even less because he is afraid of being sick. The constant use of anti-biotics seem to be resulting in the infection just not clearing and I have to sit opposite him as he stares at me in mute appeal.
But what can I do? He needs to drink 2 litres a day. When I stand over him, (figuratively), he will get through a litre. It isn't enough.
So it's back and forth for appointments to the doctors, out-of-hours service for emergency prescriptions, in addition to the usual appointments for eyes, ears, teeth, check-ups, feet...
The worst aspect of all this is that he is depressed and angry, feeling that I'm nagging him. He doesn't seem to understand that the only person who can keep him healthy is himself.
The dear doctor is so patient with him but tells him the same thing over and over.
It does get me down. I feel selfish for beginning to resent the time, the emtional cos(t and money) I put into his care and the lack of response. Then I feel worse for feeling resentful.
So there...the downside.

Goodbye Pip.

You will know that we decided that Pip would be happier in another home and had started putting out feelers before our week in Yorkshire. 2 prospective homes had been considered and rejected, I wanted her to be an only dog and she also would be better somewhere where she could be played with (a lot!) so ideally with older children or a single person who wasn't out at work all day. Both propositions broke these "ideals".

When Ralph went for lunch with his friends from work, the day after arriving in York, he was greeted with the words..."What a week! We bought a BC puppy on Friday and on Monday it died. The kids are distraught!"

Is that not the best timing for our little Pip? (sorry dead puppy...)

I was taking his mum out for the day and Ralph had both dogs in the car. He came home with one.

When I realised what had happened I naturally burst into tears. My little girl...sob.

But Pip is adored by the 2 children aged 10 and 13 and no longer terrorised by the shooting (outside) or Moss (inside).

The other benefit is that I have my beautiful dog back. Moss is now friendly and playful and obedient instead of having to keep her eye on Pip all the time. She is a different dog.

And one dog is soooo much easier.

A weekend away.

We have been in York for the week with Ralph's mum.

I escaped for a weekend walking with the Huddersfield Rucksack Club.

This club has been going for 80 years. The 1930s were the years when local walking groups got together and their history is worth visiting. Also the MASS TRESPASS of Kinder Scout took place which brought the issue of footpaths and access to the forefront.

This isn't a history lesson so I'll just introduce some of the members of this notable club (photo) which includes myself.

I joined 17 years ago, one of the new members. Also until recently one of the youngest.

My position has been moved upwards by the welcome inclusion of some new members, the youngest being just 25!

The walks are organised, varied and usually reasonable strenuous. The members are certainly varied with the usual eclectic mix of humanity...and also eccentric. There is much good humoured bickering but we are like a family and everyone enjoys the walks and weekends away.

The tiny camping barn is in All Stretton in Shropshire and the walks were on the Long Mynd (Sat) and a stunning little hill called Caer Caradog (Sun).

I am waiting for the more expert photos before posting. Watch this space.

This is Pippin.

You will all be very familiar with my dogs as they are really the centre of my life.

Pip came to us aged just one year old, having spent that first year in a family of 7, 5 children under the age of 8 and 2 adults who had neither the time nor inclination to do much with the hyper active puppy that a collie is.

She was house trained however and also very loving with both adults and children.

After a successful month of looking after a small boxer dog called Poppy, we thought that our girl Moss would love to have a companion. Poppy was known to sit in the box with Moss and they chased each other over the moors and never squabbled.

We did try out 2 other dogs first and failed as Moss was too bossy for them.

Pip held her own and she was sweet and lively and obviously needed a better home to thrive.

How we found her is a strange story but not for now.

4 years later, we have moved from a spacious farm to a small bungalow with a small garden and although we are both around a lot more, this has caused problems rather than eased any we had before.

Pip has always been nervous of noise and here there is daily shooting during the season plus on the moor behind us, the owner of the moor practises with his gun dogs on a regular basis. Pip hides for 2 hours after a practice session.

She is intensely sensitive to noise.

Also, Moss has the habit of guarding the house so that Pip is too scared to come into the house. If we stand and monitor her entrance, it is controlled, but we are in and out of the house and to have to stand there to ensure Moss isn't exerting her dominance all the time is not practical.

Pip has always hid under table so Moss can not get near.

She is loath to go out and loath to come in.

Both dogs are intelligent and bidable and both dogs would be happier being only dogs. I love them both and will work hard to ensure their comfort and enjoyment but in the situation we are now in, I believe that Pip would be better in a home where she is an only dog and so I am looking for an exceptional home for her.

She'll probably stay with us but I feel I owe it to her to try. She goes off with any person when the noises are threatening rather than stay with me. I am walking round and get a call on my mobile, "Have you lost a dog?"

Unlike Moss, she is not "one man and her dog" and would settle anywhere with a person who will love her and play with her.

Sorry, a long boring blog to those who are not at all inerested in dogs, but anyone who is and knows of the perfect home for my little Pip Squeak, then please come forward.

Flower of Scotland?

My dad who I go and see every day. twice a day, lives in sheltered housing in a nice self contained flat.

He is 82 which is not old by Grantown's standards as here people live happily and actively until their 100s...honestly. Whether it is the lack of stress, the healthy air, the activity that people involve themselves in (golf, hillwalking, ski-ing, Bridge, blether (Scottish for gossiping) or the difference in the health care system, I cxan't tell you.

My dad has had a stroke from which he has made a full recovery. He also has high blood pressure, Menieres disease, Parkinsons disease, depression and consequently, repeated UTIs. He isn't one of of Grantown's best examples of good health.

However, since moving up here, he hasn't been in hospital and is making great efforts to drink more fluids, eat more (my cooking?) and exercise more.

The beautiful flower you see is an amarlyis and was a Christmas present. It grew about an inch a day, due to warmth in his flat and the light as it is south facing.

Also I have been there to care for it, a bit like Dad really.

When I go to his flat, I wilt so I think I am more a Bluebell than an Amarlyis, but isn't it lovely? Exotic and ... PINK!

Sunshine and electricity.

We have had many many good days with sunshine all day, especially this last week. Although to re-coup our investment, we are looking at 10 to 20 years, it does feel good to see the meter whizzing round, knowing that we are saving money and the earth in one go!

Today sadly it is just overcast, windy (5mph is windy here in our sheltered spot!) and although mild compared to the hard frost this past week, is cool.

We were having minus 5 - minus 10 in the mornings but up to 10 and 11c during the day. The ground is hard and it will take a while for that to thaw.

Meanwhile I am booking my summer holiday and Ralph is spending his second day at the steam railway shed, restoring and maintaining the many old trains they have. Yesterday he drilled 30 holes in a sheet of metal that fits on to a side of a carriage.

Look up www.railstograntown.org

(only the to is in italics but that function doesn't want to work on my blog page.)

First steps to re-establishing our livestock!

Its an all-in-one house and run. Purpose built and assembled by him outdoors...no I tell a lie, he assembled it in the kitchen a week ago when it was cold and overcast.

All we need now is the chickens but whether to have 2 hybrids or a clutch of bantams...preferences on a post card please as I can't make up my mind and Ralph says they're my responsibility.

Talking of eggs, today we had boiled eggs following the recipe (?) for boiling eggs that Heston Blumingthal (sp?) advised. Well, that didn't work. They were totally underdone. (bring to boil then switch off heat and leave for 6 mins).

I can reccomend his method for chicken though. We got a free range chicken from the Co-operative (naturally, none of your Tesco crap)that was on the sell by date (we're on a tight budget here now we're not working and not pensionners for a long time) and soaked it for 24 hours in salted water. Then cooked it very slowly in a low heat oven. It was suberb, honestly.

Our new girls will have no reason to fear us, they will be for egg production only.

The sweet Fjord.

Having decided not to risk riding the bucking Rogan on the roads, I had a break from riding for 3 weeks. Sadly it now looks as if I will have to have another 3 week break as I have developed scitica which makes it impossible to ride.

However, yesterday I had my last short ride on "my" new pony.

Bertie is a Norwegian Fjord and as a previous owner of a nightmare Fjord, Thor, I was quite spooked about riding him.

Thor use to just set off home whenever he felt like it. He was one scarey pony and also a very scared pony, which then makes him very dangerous.

Bertie couldn't be more different. He was reluctant to leave his mares the first time I took him out of the field but now leads like he's known me all his life. He is forward and willing, although not at all schooled, he stops when asked and goes when asked.

And isn't he soooo pretty?