On a Heritage Trail

Last week I caught a cold (repeated negative LF tests) and anyone who has had a common cold recently will know that its symptoms are more severe and last longer than the average virus, courtesy of our immune systems having been protected for the past couple of years.  Consequently, I have mostly been haunting these four walls like a congested ghoul with lank hair, dark circles under my eyes, near constant fatigue and prone to the odd, unexpected sneezing fit apt to scare the living daylights out of anyone within a 10 metre radius.  

But let's not dwell on that.  Before I caught said cold, we took advantage of the Easter weekend sunshine to take some exercise - a seven mile circular walk taking in a stretch of the local canal.  

Easter Wreath spotted on our walk

Our starting point is Ridgehill Wood (just beyond the garden gate).  I've shared numerous photos of the woodland on here before (most recently back in November)... 

...but for this blog, we're going to keep our eyes down.  

Recently, the Black Country Living Museum launched a competition to coincide with its "Forging Ahead" development; a multi million pound expansion taking the museum's story into the 1940s, 50s and 60s.  As part of the development, a replica brickworks (loosely based on the Cricket Field Colliery in nearby Brockmoor) is being built and the museum is seeking stories from people who had associations with the brickmaking industry in the 20th century.  To help promote this drive, the "Black Country Brick Hunt" competition was launched, encouraging people to share their photos of any Black Country bricks they discover.  Given that Black Country bricks have been transported and used worldwide, this could get interesting.  The competition details can be found here:  

Join the Forging Ahead Black Country Brick Hunt! - Black Country Living Museum (bclm.com) 

The most interesting entry wins.

Our humble area of woodland is home to some Black Country bricks, forming a makeshift path along the Eastern boundary, which has been in place for as long as any of us can remember.  No one knows why for sure, but one theory is that the original owner of Lawnswood House (built circa 1813 and now The Roe Deer pub)... 

...instructed that the bricks be laid to enable a horse and cart to more easily navigate the muddy path through the wood, which also formed part of the estate, to transport timber for his woodland summer house.  First up, a Harris & Pearson brick.  This Stourbridge company's brick making origins date back to 1739 and its handsome 1888 built office frontage is just a mile or so up the road from us.

Another Stourbridge made brick with part of the name "Homer" visible.

Finally, a Utopia brick, which I believe would have been produced by the Aldridge Brick and Tile company closer to Vix in Walsall.

We headed down the local farm track towards Ashwood Marina.  How beautiful is this tree, shedding  blossom in its shadow to light the way?

A glimpse from the local Navigation Pub, of a stunning example of Victorian architecture owned by the Enville Estate (now mixed use premises), just a short walk away from the canal towpath.  

The aim was to walk to The Bratch, a local historic bridge and pumping station.  However, we hadn't accounted for the intensity of the heat that day and so soon abandoned that plan for fear of sun stroke.  Another time!

Canalside, the usual visiting and resident narrow boat permit holders were out in force and there was a distinct holiday atmosphere.  This boat, with its canine watchman, was pumping out Bob Marley and the Wailers...

A couple of boat signs caught my eye.  The first provided a succinct summary of the day's weather...

...and, at around the five mile mark, another made me quicken my pace towards home at the suggestion of a long, cold beverage.

Bow to stern with its posh cousins, was this trippy narrowboat, its abstract green and yellow street art style paint job blending perfectly with the dandelions.  

Passing the mobile home site at nearby Hinksford, call it a sixth sense if you will, but we detected some tension between the residents and the local fishing community....

On the lanes around Greensforge, I was able to capture a sure sign of spring...

and indulged in an impromptu spot of brand content creation to promote wild elopements photography.  

Since my last blog and closer to home, we've had some spectacular cloud formations (viewed from the top of the house)...

...dancing gnats (a good indicator of warm weather ahead)...

...tulips blooming

...and a pond full of tadpoles!

Plus, cold or not, I still managed to bag a couple of preloved beauties for my clothes rail.

This Hush top would have retailed for £69.00.  I had change from £3.00!

On a vintage rail in a local Antiques Centre, I also spotted this Indian cotton dress lurking amongst a sea of man made fabrics.  

It's lived a life in that it has a little sun bleaching across the tops of the shoulders, but that is barely noticeable when its on and after a little negotiation, I was happy with a £7.00 price tag for a dress that's no doubt visited some pretty exotic locations in its time.  Unique, sustainable and with decades of untold stories hidden within its fabric.  Just perfect!

See you soon!

Rule of Five: Gardening by Narrowboat Signs

 According to my Almanac's month-by-month instructions for gardening by the moon, the remainder of April in the garden should unfold as follows:-

1st quarter to full moon: 20th -27th April:  Sow crops that develop above ground.  Plant seedlings and young plants.

Whilst I have the greatest respect for people who grow their own vegetables, I have yet to develop that level of devotion to the soil.  Our neighbour who, like the Duke of Edinburgh, died just short of his 100th birthday, maintained a typical post-war garden and was the first to admit that his successes were more than matched by his failures.  As I recall, in spite of his sunnier garden, the main crops he harvested were runner beans (can't stand them), rhubarb and potatoes.  The one good tip he gave us, which worked, was to bury a couple of sprouting potatoes in a bag of compost and let nature take its course.  

Our garden is best described as "established;" shaded by many tall trees, excluding the woodland.  Suitable positions for a greenhouse are non-existent and I can't face investing so much time and effort into growing my own, only to be rewarded by a handful of salad once a month.  Last year we attempted to join in with the first lockdown trend of growing our own and whilst our tomato plant looked and smelled incredible, providing an impressive bounty of tomatoes, they were disappointing in texture.  Similarly, our coriander could not grow fast enough to match our demand.  The edible flowers were enjoyed by the slugs and the rainbow chard never appeared.  What we do have are ageing apple trees (one still yields good cookers), plum trees, a raspberry bush, black, red and white currant bushes and, save for a planned herb area, that will have to do.   We're leaving it to the experts this year and concentrating on other projects.

So this month, instead of gardening by the moon, I have been guided by the narrowboats (bear with me).  I've recently become a little bit obsessed with narrowboats and I particularly love narrowboat signwriting.  

I've started a photographic record of my favourites (just for my own personal amusement), but amongst the limited number I have so far, parallels can be drawn between five of the signs and what has been occurring in the garden.  Warning:  Some are quite tenuous.

Jack Frost visited every morning last week.

A couple of times, I broke ice on the surface of the bird bath and the recently filled pond so that the blackbirds could have their morning bath.  

We've been impatiently waiting to plant some marginals and for signs of life to start emerging.

Vitre, from the old French word, meaning "pane of glass" is pretty apt.  In a previous blog post, I mentioned our collection of old glass blocks.  Gareth also skip dived for a couple of stained glass cupboard doors (the glass being the attraction).  Put the two together, loosely assembled, and we have a makeshift cold frame!

Inside, we've been keeping young cosmos and delicate marginal pond plants until the threat of frosts has passed.  I will add my Hollyhock seedlings when ready, to acclimatise them.

A few days ago, we decided to go for it.  The cosmos are now planted up in a Belfast sink.

The pond is gradually taking shape.  We've used the pebbles I had collected from digging in the garden (plus a few larger ones acquired from a ploughed field next to the woods) and created a beach area around the shallow area of the pond for easy wildlife access.

The logs are principally there to disguise the pond liner.  We're working with what we have.  This area was originally home to a Gunnera Manicata, but that didn't survive the winter and a replacement now resides in our kitchen, awaiting planting.  The plan is to plant behind and around the pond area with a few evergreen ferns and to add a some strategically placed larger boulders, so that over time, we can lose some of the wood and have a softer, more natural look.

We have some marginal pond plants; bulrush, iris, water mint, marsh marigold, water figwort and ragged robin, plus water violets and Myriophyllum crispata (upright water milfoil) for oxygenation.  

At last, just in time for the end of the school Easter holidays, the temperature hit double figures and the first tulips are flowering!

Finally, I was able to don my Kinky Melon kaftan (thanks Vix) and enjoy quality time in the garden.  Excuse the dirty feet!  

We had the first BBQ of the year....our own rule of five.  The three of us, plus my Mom and Gareth's Dad.

Mom, sampling the first sausage, bathed in BBQ smoke-diffused sunlight

My father-in-law and BBQ King

       (Top BBQ tip:  Beans and fried onions combined).

I pottered and photographed insects (I'm surprisingly OK with them when we're separated by a camera).

And yesterday provided another cause for celebration, when we spotted our first visitor to the pond.  No, not Lotte the cat, who now refuses to drink from any other vessel...

...but a pond skater!  Apparently, pond skaters and water boatmen are usually the first to move in.  We're hoping more will follow. 

Happiness can be found in the most unlikely places - which leads me to mention the late and already greatly missed Helen McCrory.  I was moved to tears by her husband Damian's tribute, published in The Sunday Times.  She was such a great role model for women.  One thing in particular resonated with me.  

"Some people believe happiness is a right, some people find happiness difficult.  Helen believed you choose happiness."

Have a good week!