Scenes from a long run #3

Plenty of water around today. On my favourite nine mile route the road crosses many little streams and rivers. At this time of year they gush off the hills with musical enthusiasm.

The water is in such a hurry to get to lower ground.

How ancient is this stone bridge I wonder? This is a drovers' route and I imagine they needed this little bridge to cross this stream before the road was built.

Scenes from a long run day #2

Today's route is my absolute favourite - over the cattle grid and along the feet of the Preselis. The pictures are taken with my mobile phone, so excuse the quality. Today's conditions were grey and windy but there was good visibility right along the hill range.

Carn Bica with a lone walker (one third down on the right. I could see him/her anyway!)

No sheep for company today. I've chased hundreds along here in the past. They always run on ahead assuming I'm rounding them up.

On the main road, once I've run through a corner of Mynachlogddu. These signs are sprouting at the end of farm lanes. I need one too. The scrap dealers call and ask for "the boss" meaning a man. They ask for scrap while surveying your farmyard with greedy eyes. If you're not in they help themselves if they think they can get away with it. Parasites.

Long run day

I always have my mobile phone with me on my runs and I thought I'd share some of the things I see as I'm plodding around the roads.

Today's run was just six and a half miles. This is an easy week in my Smartcoach running plan designed, I think, to give tired muscles a rest.

I took these at the top of the long straight upward slope, past Elizabeth Haines' gallery, before I turned right to continue my clockwise circuit past the forestry. There's nothing but sheep and fields between this road and the top of the Preselis and it has lovely sweeping views of the hills on a clear day. Today though, the hills had stayed in bed.

Who's pinched Foel Cwmcerwyn then?

I'm sure the road must have gone straight on here in days gone by (before tarmac). My mobile isn't so good at showing it but this gate has a twin along a pretty much straight green lane. It's a footpath and theoretically goes up on to the hill but I've never walked it.

Tuesday, May 24th 8.45pm

The girls are in bed reading about cats surviving the sinking of the Titanic and a Labrador puppy with an over developed sense of humour.

Two ponies are in; one is out and the three must be reunited. I head up the path and tie open the gates. I'll have my hands full leading the two. They've been in on the yard all day and they are hungry.

Magpies laugh unseen high up in an ash tree. Millions of birds are singing their bed time songs. It is almost as loud as the dawn chorus but not quite.

Overhead the sky is cerulean blue. The clouds of this morning have departed, chased away by a toothy wind that reminds of the old wives' saying: Ne'er cast a clout 'til May is out. I have already tucked up tender beans and courgettes in the polytunnel and closed the door for the night.

Mrs Broody was cold. When I closed the pop hole on the broody pen I could only see a tuft of tail feathers. The other three hens were still awake; they always stay up late wringing the last drop of day out before roosting.

Pippin sees me approaching the gate and trots briskly down to me, ears pricked. She's looking forward to seeing her friends for the night.

Everywhere is green; the leaves have unfurled on the trees and still have the first fresh brightness. They haven't been leathered by the weather yet. On the elders the flowers are fat buds bringing the promise of champagne and cordial in a week or two.

A gull wheels in the sky above my head. Away in the distance mowers thrum, swiping the first cut of silage.

I put a head collar on one pony, the other will follow. They trot after me grabbing big mouthfuls of grass on the way. Bullseye dawdles behind as Itsy and I reach the field but as the gate swings open he springs forwards into a trot and the three of them leap and buck up the field together. A rabbit, stranded in the middle of the field far from cover skitters about unsure which way to go but the ponies run out of steam up the steep bank of the hill before they reach it. Other rabbits are vague brown shapes at the edges of the field.

Then the three ponies halt, snorting, knees buckle and they roll on the green grass groaning with the ecstasy of it all. Back on their feet they put their heads down to the serious business of catching up on a day's eating. Dieting is just as difficult for ponies as it is for humans.

I walk back to the yard swinging the head collar and rope in my hand. Only the hardiest of the midges are out tonight. One sinks its teeth into my left eyelid.

As I open the Dairy door to hang up the head collar and rope on the hook with the others, a swallow speeds out above my head. They've been back a few weeks now and already I've got so used to them that I no longer duck. The nests are back in all the outbuildings again and the air around the farm buildings and house is full of swallows' chatter.

Life in the Preseli Hills

It doesn't look much yet....

It's raining so I can pause and tell you what Life IS in the Preseli Hills at the moment.

When wondering what on earth it is I do all day I can only conclude that I am currently a full-time gardener.  I'm clearing an area 12 feet by 20 feet plus three feet all round in which to put up our second polytunnel. The bits for that arrived on Thursday along with two lovely books on polytunnel gardening which I'm trying to avidly read but every time I pick them up something intervenes.

Clearing the area requires wielding my Chillington hoe and hoiking out barrow loads of nettle roots. The patch is where the hens have been for the last decade or two and the soil is deep and rich and fertile. Nettles are always a good sign as they love to grow on the best ground.

While I dig three of the hens chat happily to me and Mrs Broody chuckles to the ten fertile eggs she's sitting on. I peer into her broody pen and she looks like a big fluffy cushion with a beak.

One of the interruptions to my polytunnel reading has been regular visits by a flock of sheep - a mix of white and black Mountain sheep - which are hell bent on joining us on our small farm. They should be on our neighbour's land but since he only has cattle fencing the inevitable keeps happening. This morning they broke through our fence again (they always break things on the way in) so Brian is now an hour late for work and has spent a couple of hours chasing sheep and putting in new fence posts. Our own sheep are quietly eating the lovely grass in our other fields and growing (the lambs) or recovering from lambing (the ewes) and don't need much looking after at the moment.

Another daily thing is to bring in the ponies. Bullseye has to come in during the day so he doesn't eat too much spring grass and get laminitis so Itsy, who can get hugely fat just looking at spring grass (I know how she feels but in my case it's cake) stays in with him to keep him company. Pippin who is not inclined to either fat nor laminitis stays out in the field on her own (much neighing) or, because she's old and wise, she gets to wander around the farmyard and hayguard eating lots of lovely lush grass (and hopefully not escaping into the garden).

When I'm not doing all of the above I'm pulling bracken from the eight acres of hay meadow. We can't spray (organic), or mow (no mower) or do any of the other bracken treatments that are supposed to work, so we're weeding it by hand. Actually Mum's done most of it so far as I've been distracted by other important things (like a Tweetup with Lins, Chris and Kath) but there's plenty still to do. (If anyone feels like popping over to give us a hand I pay in cake, roast chicken dinners and chicken curry suppers!)

In other moments I'm planting seeds, pricking out seedlings and potting on the bigger plants. I have lots ready for the new polytunnel - including cucumbers, melons, squashes, tomatoes - the little polytunnel is bursting at the seams. Its new role is for propagation and the growing will be done in the new polytunnel. All I need to do is to finish digging it and then put the thing up... other things allowing of course!

After the rain

We had a huge downpour at six o'clock this morning so after the school run I went looking for the rainbow.

My little camera doesn't nearly do it justice, but it does show that it has, from a very unpromising start, turned into a lovely day.

I realised that my blog has talked a great deal about 'life' recently but not about the Preseli Hills. They are still here and beginning to look autumnal.

Half term? Blink and you'll miss it!

Half term has simply galloped past on furious hooves.

We did so many things it felt like a month, not a week. We began with a trip to our favourite beach at Newport which, according to the Observer last year is "the new Rock". (No it isn't! Stay away!) The beach was beautiful and virtually empty, as usual. We climbed all over its lovely rocky bits and then warmed up with hot chocolate and homemade chocolate chip cookies in the car park.

Mother-in-law joined us on Wednesday so her visit was preceded by a little cleaning and hurried building of the new spare room bed.

Thursday saw us wandering round the lovely shops in Narberth and on Friday we celebrated Brian's birthday with fish and chips at Something's Cooking in Letterston, which serves the best fish and chips in the world.

Saturday found us hiking to the top of Foel Eryr, one of the Preseli hills. I'd love to say it's the tallest, but I'm not sure! It's 1,500 feet (468m) and the wind was fairly bracing at the top. There's an impressive Bronze Age burial mound near the summit and an observation point on the very top which helpfully points out things you can see on clear days, including the Wicklow Hills over in Ireland (but not on Saturday). In the picture I'm pointing towards ChrisH's house to the north.

We hurtled back down again. It's a lovely path, dry underfoot even at this time of year, with smooth grass peppered with tiny hoof prints. Going up is easy and is a fairly steady climb interrupted by big cushiony steps in the peaty ground. Coming back down again is enormous fun as you can run and jump off all the steps if you are either H7 or R5 - or me trying to keep up with the pair of them.

Sunday saw us as part of about 300 Brownies at Folly Farm to celebrate Thinking Day. H7 was joined by her friend and fellow Brownie G7. Myself, Brian, MIL, R5 and a large picnic went along for good measure. It was cold, but sunny, which did not deter the three smallest demanding ice creams while the adults huddled around big cups of cappuccino.

On the way home we saw a hedgehog walking across the road. That might not be such a major event for some, but we have lived in this part of Pembrokeshire for 24 years now and that's the first one I have seen here. It did the modern hedgehog thing and walked briskly across the road instead of rolling up into a prickly ball. For a week that also saw Darwin's 200th birthday being marked, it seemed appropriate.