Uphilldowndale

Watching nature take its course, from the top of a hill in northern England


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The beast from the east ate my garden

Warm weather has arrived, hooray, its been a long time coming, mind you we have a yellow weather warning for rain, so one mustn’t get too excited.

I’ve been taking stock of the damage done by the winter storms, namely the Beast from the East. There were casualties

Mahonia, euphorbia, viburnum all took a hit.

Ate my garden_

Some things seem to have been freeze dried.

Ate my garden 2

As I’m something of a sentimental gardener, I particularly sad to lose a lavender plant from my mum’s garden, and it touch and go if an Edgeworthia Chrysantha, from my father in laws garden will survive (I do have an heir and a spare so to speak, by way of another plant, potted up in a container, that I took into the barn for safe keeping)

But perhaps the thing that made me go ‘ohhhh noooo’  has been the demise of my Dad’s ‘degging can’ . I can’t remember a time when this wasn’t part of my gardening life. It was precious

Anyone know a tinsmith.

leaky watering can_

 

 

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Sad and Shocked

We are sad and shocked, that our lovely cat Dodger has died suddenly, he was only five.

Hunter, fisherman, all round mischief, strong enough to drag a fat pheasant up the field, it doesn’t seem possible.

Dodger-1

At 8pm he was in fine spirits, lying on his back, in one of his favourite places, on the hot spot of the kitchen floor, where the underfloor heating pipes converge, legs  akimbo, batting the odd swipe at Spuds ears as he walked past. A happy, healthy and content cat.

cat nap

When we saw him again just after 9pm, he was very distressed and ill indeed. We rushed him through the snow and ice to the vets. Where poisoning and trauma were ruled out, it wasn’t a fever or infection either. He was given pain relief and we decided to bring him home, with a plan to take him back in the morning for blood tests and a scan.

Spud and Dodger 2

But it was not to be, he died during the night. Given the sudden onset, the most likely cause was a blood clot.

B S LOL-1        jammy dodger -1

Gone fishing

fishing cat 2

Bird watchers

The Bird Watchers -1

dodger_


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Cold Feet

Cast you minds back, to November and I’ll tell you the adventure of a bold, but not very bright bird. Primrose the chicken.

Dusk arrived early, and the role call of chickens showed we had a problem.  Primrose was missing.

We called the neighbours, searched their gardens, scoured the lane by touch light, looked in the shrubs and bushes,  all to no avail.  Eventually we had to conclude she might have been picked off by a fox, who, made bold by hunger, made twilight strike, or she had gone broody and gone off somewhere to make a nest.  We called off the search.

It was bonfire night, rockets streaked across the night sky scattering glittering stars in their wake,  Spud the dog shifted uneasily in his bed.  Eventually all fell quiet, and then the rain came by the bucketful pounding on the roof in the small hours.

At first light, Mr Uphilldowndale went out to resume the search, to be honest he was expecting to find a drift of feathers somewhere nearby.

He couldn’t find anything. However, he could hear something.  Cluuuuccckaaaa, Chahhhaaa, Cluck! But where was it coming from?

As befits the start of a pantomime ‘It’s behind you!’ he turned on his heels to find…

Cold feet 2-0942

Can you see in the bulrushes, in the middle of the field pond? Oh you silly bird.

Cold feet-0939

She’d been standing, up to he knees (do chickens have knees?) in the water, all night.

Mr Uphilldowndale gallantly went in , braving chilly waters and slippery pond liner to get her*.  If you’d like to see how he got on, pop over to the video.

We took her into the kitchen to warm up. She can’t have had much sleep she kept nodding off in Mr Uphilldowndales arms.

Cold feet 3-0943

we don’t know why she was there, she will flap and fly a little, especially if startled.  She obviously didn’t have sufficient ‘runway’ to make her way back again.

* I think I’d have built a bridge, I’ve never been fond of cold water.


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Christmas Confessions

Before I confess,  let me wish you all a happy and healthy 2018.

OK the confession. I took the tree down early this year, on the 28th.   I have to say it’s rare that it would still be in place come the 12th night,  and as I’m not superstitious about such things, I’ve no qualms about packing the baubles away.

Some years I just feel the need to make everything ‘calm’ again. I suspect  lot of this glitter Grinch, would have to do with working in retail,  as for many years, I was surrounded by as much glitz glitter and poinsettias as could be squeezed into the shop, and had been for weeks before the 25th of December arrived. I just used to want to come home to a clean clutter free zone and relax.  Those years are long since gone, but the habit remains. 

It’s been a different kind of Christmas this year, quieter than most, Tom has gone travelling in New Zealand, he left at the beginning of December and Joe returned to Uni to party in the New Year with his friends, we didn’t even manage to get down to Oxford for a family gathering as our travel plans were thwarted by a fall of snow.

Now that reads as a rather dour kind of Christmas, it wasn’t at all,  we had good times with neighbours and friends, we were even to be found in the village pub on Christmas eve for a very convivial couple of hours (it must be 30 years since I was last found in a pub on Christmas eve!)

Image may contain: drink and indoor

So whilst the baubles and my very precious lights are packed away, as usual, I have left some lights in place, a colourful welcoming string in the kitchen window, and an globe of lights in a  vintage carboy, shine on, longer days will come.

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Fair Game

During the short winter days, the birds arriving at our garden feeder bring us great pleasure.  For the last few years a regular visitor has been a pheasant,  we’d become very fond of him. 

Fezzie -1032

We called him Fezzie 

bird feeder 2-1029

Maybe Fezzie got a little too bold, complacent, let his guard drop? Or maybe he just ate too much of the hen food to be fighting fit?  You can tell where this post is heading can’t you?

Sadly, I’m afraid Fezzie is no more, we found his limp body being dragged towards the cat flap, by Dodger the cat, remember him? The butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, cool little kitten cat?

Now, as we later discovered that Dodger had cornered and killed Fezzie in the chicken run, which is the best part of 30 yards from the house, it means that he dragged Fezzie, quite some distance uphill! But then again he always did have ideas above his station…


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AWOL

It’s been a while since I tended my blog, the main reason has been, that Spud the dog has been in a bit of bother.

It started innocently enough, a game of ball in the field, we know he loves a ball.

New balls

It’s something  we’ve done thousands of times.  This time though, Spud the dog was in big trouble.

Spaniel Elbow

Mr Uphilldowndale, threw the ball and turned back to what he was doing, he heard Spud yowl, and looked up to see him on the ground.  His leg was limp like a ragdoll’s.

We rushed him to the local vets, who instantly knew what had happened. This my friends is Spaniel Elbow, who ever knew of such a thing, in layman’s terms, it’s a weakness where the bone in the elbow fuses, so that if it fails, the  resulting pressure on the bone  causes it to fracture, in one or, worse case scenario two places, a Y fracture, this is what happened to Spud. 

He spent the night in the care of the local vets, the surgery he needed was a specialist procedure, and we were referred to the Pride Park  veterinary centre  in Derby.  He was operated on the next day, its a procedure we were told, that is about ‘as complicated as canine orthopaedic surgery gets’. If he didn’t have surgery, the legs would have been amputated.  Here he is when he got home after three nights at the ‘hospital’

Ben Post Op

He’s had six weeks of crate rest, heavy weight pain relief and just short lead trips out to the garden to relieve himself ; tricky for a Springer, but he’s been a model patient*. His follow up x-rays show  the bone has now healed and he can now start to get moving again, to build up some strength in what his vet calls ‘his chicken leg’, he’s lost a lot of muscle tone.  He’s started having a course of hydrotherapy, which loosens him up a treat, he’s supposed to be tired after it, but he just gets giddy, I think it is because it makes him feel more like his old self, he wants to play again. 

Ben Hydro

Reading this post, I can see I’ve sifted out a lot of the emotions we’ve been through. We were all very upset as you can imagine.  Everyone has been so kind** and skilled. There are two things people want to know, was it expensive? Yes it was, and were you insured? No we weren’t.

* Spud scared the living daylights out of us all, when he tried to leap onto the vets examination table, just a few days post surgery! Ironically we’d been shown into an empty consulting room, so as to keep him quiet and still, away from the busy waiting room!

** When Mr Uphilldowndale rang me to ask me to say ‘get home quick’ I was in the middle of a shopping at Waitrose. I abandoned my trolley full of shopping, calling to a member of staff as I fled the store.  A few days later, I returned to try again, I saw the member of staff and apologised for leaving them to sort out my shopping, and explained what had happened.  As I was paying for my shopping, a dog bone came down the conveyor, amongst my shopping, I was confused, I hadn’t put a bone in my shopping? Where had it come from? The supervisor appeared at my side, ‘A bone for your dog, with the compliments of Waitrose, we hope he is better soon…’  


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Time for Tea

It’s back! We have a phone line, we have broadband! Put the kettle on lets have a nice pot of tea.  Storm Doris is behind us at last.

Mr Uphilldowndale, Tom and I were sat at the kitchen table the other day having a cuppa; idly  we calculated  that our Denby tea pot, purchased circa 1987, has made in the region of 47,000 pots (not cups) of tea. Astounding.

teapot

Tom wryly observed ‘We wouldn’t be working this out if we had the Internet, wed have found better things to do.’ he is probably right.  It also cast my mind back to how we had the majority of our Denby Greystone crockery as wedding gifts. The very first phone call I took, to our landline, from a mobile phone  (a car phone) was about a matter of great importance, a friend and early adopter of such  technology rang to ask ‘This wedding list of yours, we’re just going shopping,  err what exactly is a  ramekin’.

Tom of course has never know a world without mobile phones and the Internet, or for that matter Denby crockery. Tom is 22 today.