wild asparagus hunting.

One day, after a particularly large lunch at the Mulinetta, we were taken on a hunt for wild asparagus. Excitedly, and with Faelen asleep in the sling, we scoured up and down the prickly banks for the secretive shoots.  

Normally my visits are in August and the ground is burnt and golden.  Walking after lunch is certainly not advisable, instead siestas are taken, hiding from the sun behind shutters.  This time though, the ground was green, the almond trees were blossoming and we walked for an hour without breaking a sweat or blistering.

Admittedly I didn't find a single shoot.  I am painfully unobservant.  I found several twigs that for an elated moment I thought were asparagus, but ultimately not a single edible morsel.  My mother forgot her glasses, so there was no hope there - I was pretty much just impressed she was able to walk in a straight line!  Consequently my Aunt was solely responsible for the haul - all seven weedy shoots.  Perhaps in a couple months it will be more impressive!

Hardly worth poaching an egg for.

starting to look a lot like autumn.

I have tried this year to not be one of those people that is constantly surprised at the passage of time, but, seriously - the last week of October?  I genuinely don't know when this happened.  I actually found chestnuts on a walk the other day - not big ones, but chestnuts nonetheless.  For the most part I don't actually mind the weeks slipping by but I am a little disappointed that I have had a post in my drafts folder with sea pictures that I have meant to post forever (well, since July) and now I think I have to accept their time has gone!

Bristol is still deceptively green for October especially when you compare it to this picture



taken at the same time last year.  That really was a golden October.  

That is not to say that this one is any less beautiful though...

Looking back through old photographs always makes my mind wander.  Last October, playing in the leaves instead of writing my dissertation, I couldn't have predicted that this October I would be quite so hugely pregnant.  And by next October I will be sharing the season with a nearly one year old child who I can't even begin to imagine!  Reading this Autumnal post on Fritha's blog made me very excited for this future.


Also, I lied, I couldn't let all my seaside pictures go to waste...

blackberry pickers' paradise.

I am still without access to a computer but, quite smugly, I have figured I can upload photos straight to Flickr from my phone.  Here, unedited, are moments from my morning, proving unequivocally that August is coming to an end and that Autumn is just waiting to pounce.

I cannot believe how many blackberries there are this year, most of them are so bloated that they just crumble under my fingers as soon as I touch them.  Every morning when I take the dogs out I pick and pick until either the pot is full or the dogs get too bored and start whining, I have come nowhere close to clearing the crop.  This morning I walked with my mother and we picked over a kilo in ten minutes - the poor freezer is groaning at the seams.

My fingers are stained purple and my arms are covered in scratches, I know deep down we don't need any more blackberries, yet I know that tomorrow morning, like every morning, I won't be able to resist their sugary lure!

The Entomologist: Part Three.

This post wasn't due to make an appearance till September but as I am still without a computer and this was the only post lurking in my drafts folder, early entomology it is!  August in the UK has been incredible for us bug-hunting types (less incredible for the kale and chard my mother has been trying to grow) as the weather has bought the butterflies out by the thousands.

This butterfly is called the Comma because he has a white comma marking on the underside of his wings.  He landed on me and hitched a ride for about half a mile; my friend believes that butterflies signify pregnancy so perhaps he was attracted to bump?



This small tortoiseshell butterfly (Aglais urticae) is one of hundreds that have been enjoying the sunshine and the buddleia outside our house.



I love these little dudes! The Cinnabar moth caterpillars (Tyria jacobaeae) are apparently brightly coloured to warn of predators but I am of the opinion it just makes them easier for me to spot and bother!




Okay so I have literally no idea what this little fellow is; he looks like a ladybird but has none of the right colours or markings.  Google seems equally clueless - any ideas?



The Marbled white butterfly is just exquisite, apparently no other British butterfly shares its markings.  This one chilled out on the lawn with James and I as we drank our tea, I just love a lazy photo opportunity.



This little moth had made his home in the mop and was required to make a rather damp and disgruntled getaway when I attempted to clean the kitchen.  He sat on a holly leaf drying out in the sun for a half an hour before bimbling on his way again.



And finally a slightly grotesque photograph of one of the hundreds of shed spider exoskeletons that are hidden in the walls outside - I think the lack of rain means none of them are getting washed away.

I truly love British Summer Time. 

Farmyard fun; the Mid-Somerset Show and a new addition to the household.

Sunday was the big event where I come from - the Mid-Somerset Show (or locally just Shepton Show).  This is the attraction of the summer holidays.  Us South-West types flock from miles around to see award winning cows, pigs, chickens and even guinea pigs!


 

Or, more honestly, to sample the local cheeses and ciders (for the non-pregnant) and coo over the super cute piglets.

(those curly tails just make me melt)

There is even a dog show for the competitively inclined (little known fact - when I was about nine or ten, I took our dog, Nessie, in for one of the shows.  I came second place for the 'best bitch' award.  It took a long while for me to realise why my mother found that particular success so amusing).

This year just mum and I went (James is currently on his eighth 13 hour shift in a row - boo) and, whilst not usually one for impulse purchases, what with all the farmyard excitement we got a little carried away... please meet Feathers McGraw, the latest chicken to the flock!



Only slightly cruely, she was packaged up in a box that once contained chicken nuggets.  The box proudly proclaims 53% chicken on its side.



She is a gorgeous Blue Marran hybrid and, since being introduced to the other girls, is in a bit of a sulk.  She flew out this morning and has spent the day sitting on the wall between ours and the neighbours' garden, as though deciding which side will offer her the better future.  So I am off to bribe her with pasta and lettuce scraps...

Happy Monday! 

The Entomologist: part two (the Italian edition).

As I am sure I've written on multiple occasions, as children, my brother and my two cousins used to spend the long school summers visiting my grandparents at the Mulinetta.  Everyday after lunch was siesta time.  Now in the heat, after food, I think of siesta time as the most luxurious time imaginable!  However as a child I hated it, two hours of boredom stuck in a room with the shutters closed, knowing the world outside was so much more fun.  

When I was nine, I discovered that if I waited till the adults were asleep I could open the shutters, climb out of the window and explore without interruption.  I found my best treasures then; porcupine quills, dead stag beetles and abandoned wasp nests.   Once my Nonno caught me (I doubt I was particularly subtle) and I thought it would be the end of my mini-adventures but instead we hunted for owl pellets and he showed me how you can soak them in water and pick out the bones of the owl's last meal.

This year was no exception, I found some wonderful critters.  As my bug book is for UK wildlife only, these insects will have to remain nameless, but they are wonderful nonetheless.  (A couple of these beasties are quite well hidden - think of it as a kind of 'Where's Wally?').

This yellow spider was hiding in the sunflowers; isn't he such an incredible colour?  

Wild orchids and abandoned quarries.

Having not lived in Somerset for several years and knowing I am unlikely to ever live this close to my childhood haunts again, I compiled a list of places to show James before we move. So this week I've been tiring James and the Bump out on endless wooded walks.   I posted once before about the abandoned train tunnels (the terror of my childhood Sunday afternoons) and in the sunshine we braved them again, this time heading further into the overgrowth to visit the neglected quarry.  It was a bit of a fight to get through at times but I forgot my bruised shins when the quarry opened out in front of us covered in wild orchids.

Whilst moving back to live in a small house with my mother, her partner, his daughter and my brother (not to mention the two oversized dogs) has required some coordination and compromise, it has all been totally worth it..  Every time a nerve is frayed or a toe is trodden on I just remember this is the last time I have the opportunity to live with my family and I wouldn't change it for the world  (aside from perhaps installing a second bathroom).
Mostly though I simply can't stop thinking that this time next year I will be able to bring baby boy on these same small adventures, the ones my mum has taken me on since I was a babe.