Autumn Cottage Diarist

Out to Lunch!

 We have not had any regular visits from the cock pheasants who usually frequent the garden at this time of the year - but if you go down to the area we call 'the dump' (glamorous name, isn't it?), where we keep compost bins and debris for burning or chipping, you can easily see into the field next door but remain fairly hidden - as you can if you hide amongst the bushes bordering the herb garden.

I lurk about there with my camera - later in the year I intend to build a proper hide from which to photograph the wildlife which comes to visit. It's relatively quiet in the field at the moment, but I did catch a bevy of female pheasants last week - working their way up and down the hedge - their natural environment, though now boundaried further by expensive fencing to keep in even more expensive horses.

The fence does, however, have the bonus of not giving 'The Girls' an easy escape route and thus gives me more time to capture them on camera. Here they are - mooching about along the hedge line; I've started to feed them regularly now, so I'm hoping that their beaus might come and join them soon. The males have a much more 'showy' plumage - but look closely at how lovely even the female feathering is.

Tootling back up the field, on their way to the one next door - no chance through that fence - they have to go the long way round!

I'm just hoping they all keep their heads down from the too-prevalent guns which also lurk around here in these winter months. Fly over to Autumn Cottage garden, my friends - you will all be safe in here!

'Cucumbers Shake with Fear at Thunder!'

I was intrigued to see reports, in the last few days, regarding the latest exhibition to be mounted at Buckingham Palace, which will go on display later this year; following closely on the new TV production of Hilary Mantel's 'Wolf Hall', the exhibition will contain what is named as 'the world's oldest Gardening Manual' - previously personally owned by King Henry the Eighth.

Full of woodcut engravings, it is described as 'well thumbed' and it is suggested that it was very likely put to very practical use when the gardens of Whitehall Palace were being laid out in the 1530's. You can see, in the image above, dated 1545, Henry with his wife, Jane Seymour (who had actually died in 1537) and son Edward; but the most interesting part of the painting in relation to the topic of this post lies in the background, seen through the arches, of a Tudor garden laid out following just such advice as is given in the venerable tome. You can read more here about the book and the exhibition.

Old gardening books can become very absorbing; though I have none which hail back to Tudor times I do have a few which were published in the 19th century. I'll dig them out and share them with you here in a future post. But for now, here are a few photographs of the garden here at Autumn Cottage in this fourth week of January.

All looks a bit unkempt - but the weather has been 'gardening sunny' on several days already, allowing us, garbed in thick jumpers and jeans, to get out and start the maintenance work which will hopefully result in a 'realm of loveliness' later on :-)

Today that meant work in the vegetable/herb garden - which will see many more herbs grown this year in the grid of 'veg boxes', along with other edible produce, particularly the runner beans which seem to grow particularly abundantly in the soil here. We'll also be working on the restoration of the much loved small wildlife pond also situated in the herb garden, which sprung a leak last year and now looks very forlorn.

But help is on the way - a new liner has arrived, which will be used to re-line the rigid shell in the next few weeks. And already other signs of Spring are most definitely peeping through - it's all upwards from now on. I look forward to sharing the return of abundance, but for now, I am also enjoying the quiet time, both indoors and out. That is - time to read gardening books - and plan - the plot!

Evergreen leaves of the Trachelospermum, turned red-gold in the frost.

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A Place of Unknowing

Floundering around in a liminal space today; our much loved cat, Pip, has been rushed (yes, really rushed) off to the vet. Very unwell (I'll refrain from sordid details) and definitely needing to be seen promptly. Now I sit - and wait for phone-calls, and information, and decisions.

I have often held considerable discussions with people on how important companion animals are to us - not just in that very companionship, but in other things we learn from them and through owning them. How to live 'in the moment' - how to understand 'body language' as well as the spoken human word. How spoken words are so often not necessary if one has the intimacy of companionable Presence - and how hollow human words can sometimes be if that intentional presence is not truly there.

Thoughts also inevitably wander to what an impact an animal bereavement can have - as deep an impact, in many cases - as any human bereavement. How we need to be as understanding in those sorts of losses as we are when we find compassion for those bereaved of a person. I have met with vehement opposition regarding that idea - but anyone who has deeply experienced life with a companion animal will, I think, at least understand them, even if their detail merits discussion.

Our relationship to animals is complex; at times like this, it gives rise to the greatest anxieties. I will be glad to have news now. Living with 'not knowing' is one of the most difficult things of all, isn't it?

Charles Bukowski also shows how much he gains from his relationship with his own cats, in this (serendipitous) poem. Meantime, I'll let you all know...

 

The Heart of the Home

At this time of the year, in the depths of winter, the focus of the home at Autumn Cottage is the kitchen and the Stanley stove. Theoretically just a prosaic contraption for heating the house and providing cooking facilities, when the wind is biting outside and the thermometer falls, 'Stan' is so much more than that.

- It will thaw out and heat up a home-made soup in the casserole on the hot plate while I am out in the garden; a few slices of olive bread and a quick salad make a wonderful lunch and restoreth the Inner Glow very rapidly.

- It provides somewhere to dry wash-cloths, tins, pots and pans -  and knickers!

- The bottom oven is the perfect place to dry out kindling for lighting our other fires.

- The kettle can be kept at a simmer, saving the need to boil one electrically.

- You can park your bum against it if you are cold and/or wet/and/or feeling like a chin-wag; it restores the spirits like nothing else (except, perhaps, a bottle of good red Cabernet - also not far away from the stove…)

 But most of all, of course, it just provides that most primitive of pleasures - a constant, intangible source of comfort and contentment for every member of the family - including the most important one…

 

To Be A Pilgrim

I have been intrigued by the concept of Pilgrimage for many years; though it is normally thought of as a journey made by those with religious belief to a site of religious power, the concept can, I think, also be applied to anyone making a journey - physically, emotionally or intellectually, between one place (physical or metaphorical) and another, and being changed in some way by the process of that journey as much as by what is sought - or discovered - at the end.

There are thousands of pages out there exploring pilgrimage in great detail and with considerably more intellectual and practical knowledge than I have myself. I have never been on pilgrimage (which does not mean that I never will), but was reminded of my interest once again by watching a fine, 3-part series ('The Sacred Wonders of Britain') presented by Neil Oliver which has been on UK television recently and which may, in time, appear on YouTube or PBS. He visits sites which have been considered sacred in the UK, covering, in the course of the series, some 5000 years. The final episode visits some of the medieval sites here, which hold particular interest for me. So I thought I would share with you here three encounters with (in these particular cases, Christian) Pilgrimage that I have had, which have touched and changed my own life in some way.

 

The first is in the form of what is, to me, an immensely moving sculpture. It is of pilgrims en route to Santiago de Compostella, the great shrine to Saint James in Northern Spain, upon one of the pilgrim routes to which the little town of Pons in the Charente-Maritime department of France stands. The sculpture actually sits on a traffic island on the outskirts of the town and I first saw it when staying with a dear friend at her cottage a few miles away. We were visiting in temperatures of 38C - but the (almost life-sized) figures in the sculpture are wearing clothing of heaviest construction, wrapped as if to protect the wearers from bitter cold and lashing rain.

They seem almost alive and they bring to life, for me, one of what seems to me to be an important feature of physical pilgrimage - that of encounter with adversity, whether it be of the weather, or of the physical limitations of one's own body. This installation, embodying such immensely realistic depictions of real people on a real journey, brings me each time I see it into immediate contact with the vulnerable humanity of travellers from many centuries. It touches my heart in a very profound way and I love it very much indeed

 

My second encounter came with a visit made in 2013 to the Cathedral Church of St David in Pembrokeshire, West Wales;

Again, the physicality of the site is striking; the cathedral sits at the end of a wild and rocky route and anyone wishing to visit over past centuries would have had an arduous journey - even now, with the luxury of travelling by car, it was not always easy. But I did also experience the sight of the newly restored shrine of the Saint, complete with five beautiful modern icons.

Saint Non - the supposed mother of Saint David

Pilgrims were, at the time of my visit,  attending a service at the shrine and it was impossible not to be moved by the obvious intensity of their experience; though not believing in the same way as the Christian participants, that encounter with deep reverence had a great impact upon me. It also reinforced my feeling that - easy as it is, nowadays, to look  upon pictures and watch films about these places - it is not the same as standing in actual, physical proximity with other humans as they - we - experience something apart from every-day experience, in community - the essence of Victor Turner's Communitas.

But for all the failings of book, image and film - they are still a very worthwhile resource - and so to my third encounter with Pilgrimage; a short (20 minute) and I think little known film - 'Pilgrimage'  made in 2001 by maestro film maker Werner Herzog, who always seems to get further under the skin and closer to the heart (though it may be a dark heart) of an issue or phenomenon than almost any other director I can think of. The music is by another maestro, John Tavener. Together, the images and sound are transcendent - I hope you enjoy it; it certainly gave me pause for thought in my otherwise ordinary daily life.

Books to Feed Body and Soul

Another foray to the Hungerford Antiques Arcade on Thursday - en route to lunch with a dear friend; lots of little 'bits and pieces' picked up - but also two very interesting books, for just a couple of pounds each, on the cultural history of food and food-writing.

It's a field which fascinates me, both because I am interested in all aspects of life in the past, but more particularly since we bought the house next door to Autumn Cottage 20 years ago, when we 'inherited' a boarded up fireplace, which turned out to hold an inglenook plus the entrance to the beehive oven which was already visible on the outside of the house. It looked intriguing but I had no real idea of how a bread oven had worked; once I had my own, I hunted down books on the subject (Dorothy Hartley's Food in England was a treasury of information on the topic) and was also lucky to see one in use at my neighbour's house. She had restored her oven to working order and held a 'baking day' especially to demonstrate how it was practically operated. (a third, more prosaic reason for buying both books is quite simply that I love finding, eating and sharing good quality, interesting food - surely one of the great pleasures of life?)

 

The two books I brought home with me were Marwood Yeatman's 'Last Food Of England' - a survey of both the historic sources, preparation and serving of food through history in England, but also a survey of those whom he considers the best purveyors at the present time of the best quality foods in the country. It is a book written by someone who clearly feels strongly about the quality of good food and preservation of its availability by the continued existence of small local producers and shopkeepers; There is much more about the book here and also a description of his home, which illustrates his philosophy of lifestyle here

 

The second book - Mark Kurlansky's  'Choice Cuts' - is a more general anthology of food writing from the Romans onwards - a lovely book to dip into along with a cup of tea and a piece of cake, more for entertainment than inspiration, though I suppose the one often leads - directly or otherwise - to the other!

I cannot end without mentioning - again - one of my favourite blogs - The History Girls - and yesterday's post on their site by Michelle Lovric,  regarding the upcoming 500th anniversary celebrations of Aldo Manuzio, publisher and printer of Venice. Books, Printing presses and Venice - what more could you ask me to leave you with! Off you go, to savour the whole delicious article here

Turn it Out!

The time had come to turn out the old mahogany linen press that sits in the conservatory; it’s a magnificently capacious item that came from my mother in law, and such is its size that it probably came to her via one of the grand houses which she or her own mother inhabited at some time in their lives; now it holds my junk!

But it was junk held  in a miscellaneous 'it can go in here until I find somewhere else for it' kind of way and the time had come to organise it a little. There were also mysterious scrabblings heard within its depths…

These are some of the items that surfaced, together with my usual 'Little Helper' - who discovered the source - and gave chase - to the originator of the scrabblings!

Mother's Little Helper

One of the old Victorian prints lurking on the shelves

A cleaner version - (for download if you wish...)

Samples of hand-printed wallpaper borders, bought a long time ago from a house sale at the home of Interior designer Prue Lane-Fox

An old print of Lisbon in 1704  (bought in a very old bookshop in the Bairro Alto there) - showing the city before the 1755 earthquake

A Victorian pastel portrait of a local daughter of the Rectory

...and finally - Mother in Law's misdemeanour; the 'trimmings' from a very valuable Persian carpet, which she decided did not fit into a particular room! These are  the remnants of her 'remodelling' - fortuantely big enough to use in some upcoming upholstery projects

You never know what you will find in the corners of an old cupboard, do you? :-)

Have a Heart...

One of my consistently favourite daily blog-reads is that of 'The History Girls' and particularly the recent post to which I link below; for it is about the symbology of the human  heart - a symbol which is much in evidence here at Autumn Cottage where I have a whole collection of different heart-shaped items, which has grown up over the last few years.

The symbolic use of the Heart is diverse. It is often religiously used as an invocation regarding the health of the actual body-part, in petition for saintly intercession, in the form of the Milagro. It has traditionally also often been used to signify the seat of the Soul, which is particularly apposite for their preponderance here, since my collection is located principally in the little summerhouse by the pond, where many friends have said they feel spiritually welcomed and at peace. There are  also several in my little sitting room, which was once my Mother's room and where I feel much at peace myself.

It is also, of course, widely used as a symbol of romantic and charitable love - and I see nothing wrong in having that powerful symbol present in my surroundings as a sign of welcome and warmth to all who visit.

Here are some of the little items in my collection; I especially treasure those given to me by others, which hold a special place in my heart…(I am still hunting for those made for a collaborative exchange with my ACJ friends over a decade ago - when I find them, I will share them here with you all…)

The summerhouse in the middle of winter - New Year's Eve

Eastern European wooden hearts

A little pair of painted wooden hearts - happy memento of a visit to Mottisfont Abbey with two dear friends

A little lap-quilt, made for my Mother's 80th birthday

Scandinavian carved hearts, hanging from a painted Norwegian 'mangletrær' smoothing board

One of the  most significant of my hearts - given to me by my friend Liz on the day of my graduation. Brings back such happy memories!

You can see even more hearts in the summerhouse here , find the History Girls article on 'The Curiosities of the Human Heart' here and read more about Milagros here