Berries Ready For The Cold

A chill wind has started blowing over the UK.

We have not seen any really cold weather yet and it can be quite warm during the day at times.  But there has been a pronounced change in the weather at night, usually requiring ice to be scraped off the car in the morning.

This has caused the owls to start hooting much more prominently. Now as we retire to bed, we can often hear them calling to each other.

Are they complaining about the weather?

Owls don’t fly in the rain, and it has been rather wet recently.

Do they have passion in their eyes and love on their mind?

They usually call to find a mate or define their territory.

Are they just practising their best calls for when the real action starts in winter?

We’ve only really heard the males hooting, so it could be that they are warming up.

Another sign that the weather has turned at night is the early sign of the cats in the house. One of the cats is housebound but the other one now spends most of the night cuddled up and doesn’t shout or moan to go out nearly as much.

We still have the odd bat flitting around the house, but the insect levels are dropping and therefore the bats start looking for somewhere to hibernate. Although we have had bats in the loft at times, the last couple of years have seen them move on to somewhere else and stay away from our loft. I am surprised at this only because we have had record levels of insects in the garden with all the mild weather and rain, and this would usually attract more bats. Having said that, we may have the wrong kind of insects.

Flower Still Trying to Shine

With so many trees in the garden, there is always a need to consider some surgery. Whilst I enjoy using a lopper to cut back some of the smaller trees and thin out the fruit trees, the Cypress Leylandii are imperious and require a professional to really sort them out.

We have a good tree surgeon who has worked with us for a number of years. Every year we spend a considerable sum on chopping back some of the biggest specimens in the garden to stop them completely taking over.

However, it appears this is not enough and the Cypress Leylandii have grown so well in the last couple of years, that they have gone beyond a bit of chopping back and have now taken three days to tame. We have had three surgeons working in tandem, hoisting themselves up and down the main stem with chainsaws attached to their midriff. I have my own chainsaw too, but the thought of using it whilst trying to hold onto the bough of a tree is not something I will entertain on my own.

When Cypress Leylandii grow too large they also grow too wide at the base. With an annual growth of 3 – 5 feet, their ability to grow outwards at the base is phenomenal. No amount of surgery will reduce this to any great extent because the green element to the branches is only on the last few inches of the branch and if you cut it back beyond this it will never go green again. However, we must do something to address this as they are now growing so wide they are threatening to engulf the trees that grow nearby.

There does not appear to be a good solution, except maybe cutting them down completely and letting them grow again from the base or replacing them with a new set of trees that are less enthusiastic in their growth.

No one really likes cutting down trees that grow well and provide a habitat for birds, but Cypress Leylandii are the weed of the tree world and if not tamed properly will quickly become a nuisance.

Meet Our Wounded Hero

As I mentioned on my blog last week, one of our cats, Tango, has been ill. He had many good wishes from people last week, which we thank you for.

As an update, I thought I would let him tell you about his experience in his own words. It will take a couple of episodes but it will give you an idea of what he has been through ……. 

Sunday night – three weeks ago

Hello – it has been a few months since I was last allowed to take part in this blog.

Somehow my writing abilities are under appreciated and the big fat human seems to think that I am surplus to requirements on that front. I have tried to tell him on a regular basis that his vain attempts to provide an interesting read are just not good enough, but he bumbles on regardless. One day, when I am back to normal, I will demonstrate my abilities to critique his articles and bring the blog up to the level a quality reader demands!

Anyway, back to me.

It has been three weeks now since I first hurt myself. I don’t remember the exact event as the drugs they have put me on have rather addled my brain. I just remember falling forwards one evening onto my face, and bashing my head on the floor. A searing pain rose up in my face and I screamed for all the world to hear.

But no one came. No one even heard me.

The humans were tucked away in their warm building, looking at the flat screen with the moving wildlife pictures. Feeding their faces with comfort food, and several glasses of red liquid. (I hate the smell of that red liquid, it always smells so acid).

As I lay there on the tarmac surface, in the darkness, a million images flashed across my mind. A light rain was falling on me, and I shivered a little. The dampness in the air stopped me passing out completely and I was determined to head for the warmth and sanctity of the lights in the building below.

“What has happened to me?”, I thought.

I called out to my brother. But no reply. I called again, and still nothing. He really is a useless ***tard when you need him. He never ventures very far from the house, and spends most of his time waiting for the latest generation of voles to appear out of their nest.

“Why can’t he hear me?”

“What does it take to get some attention in this place?”

I struggled up onto my paws, and then a terrible pain hit me right in the middle of my back. It is hard to describe it, but it hurt so much that my legs had stopped working and my tail hung loose.

I balanced on my front legs – looking down the 100 yards of driveway that ran away from me towards the house.

“How the hell am I going to get down there?”

I started to rock from side to side, balancing on my front legs and dragging the rest of me behind. I stopped to rest after a few steps and then carried on. This regular cycle of walk and rest, walk and rest, allowed me to make good progress.

I finally reached the gravel area.

I don’t know if you have ever tried to pull yourself along by your front legs, but doing this on the soft grass is one thing, doing this across a gravel expanse is quite another.

The gravel rubbed on my legs and underside like it was trying to rub them off. The pain in my back now spread across my feet and nether regions. I called out again in hope that someone would hear.

But no one came.

“What does a cat have to do around here to get some help!”

Finally, having managed to drag myself some 200 yards across, grass, gravel and mud, I reached the hole in the door. I peered in. No movement, no rush to help me, no cavalry coming to pick me up.

I somehow managed to climb through the hole in the wall and waddled along the cold tiles towards the light at the end of the hall. I called out as I waddled, and eventually the big fat human appeared at the end of the corridor with a look of consternation in his face.

He ambled towards me, muttering something incomprehensible. I shouted at him again, trying to explain where it hurt. He reached down and picked me up. I screamed in agony as he lifted me off the tiles and into his arms.

“Put me down – that really hurts”, I yelled. But he didn’t seem to understand and continued to grasp me to his chest.

After more mumbling and a bit of dodging about, he loaded me into the plastic pod with holes in the sides and carried me out to the metal box with wheels. “Oh my word, I have had it now”, I thought. This usually means I have to have a probe stuck up my arse and a person with rubber gloves poke and prod me.

He was joined in the metal box by the scrawny human dressed in her best ragamuffin clothes, looking like a hedge had help sculpt her hairdo.

“Somebody do something to stop this pain”, I shouted.  My brother had peered into the plastic box as I left the building, but now he looked on from the safety of the window sill. “Don’t you look smug”, I thought. “I will get you back later”.

After a bit of jolting and bumping around in the metal box we arrived at the dreaded place where the rubber glove people live.

They soon had me out of the box, rubber gloves on, poking me and stretching me, exactly where I didn’t want them to. Some exchange of dialogue later I was being carried off into another room.

“The big fat human and scrawny one have abandoned me”, I thought.

I was suddenly thrust into a much bigger box, but this time it was like a cage. I looked around and realised I was not alone. I was surrounded by others with different problems.

“Is this where they bring you to recycle you I asked?”, not really knowing what recycling was.

“How long have you been here?”, I wondered.

“Shut up and go to sleep”, a large black cat said from the corner of the room. “Some of us have been here for days, so why do you think you are special?”.

I hunkered down in the dark, waiting to wake up and realise it had all been a dream. Sadly, it didn’t happen.

More Escapades Next Week ....…..

The Lion Has His Roar Back!

Thank you again for all your good wishes!

I will let him tell you more about his adventures next week, but I thought you might be interested to know how he is.

He is now finally walking again, of sorts. It is a different kind of walk, a bit like a very young lady wearing high heels for the first time. He wobbles, he totters and he falls over. But he is at least mobile.

He has a rather large patch of shaven hair on his back from his various treatments (more from him next week), but he is starting to clean himself finally – a good sign.

He is desperate to go outside, and spends a good amount of time watching the grass grow and the wind blow.

His brother has no sympathy whatsoever. He hisses at him, and hides from him. He sniffs him and looks on disapprovingly.  Brotherly love has definitely evaporated here.

But he is home and that is the main thing.

Tick "Bite"

One of the challenges of living in the countryside that I have described in the past is the pest of ticks. These horrible little creatures lie in the long grass and trees and prey on passing animals.

We have taken several off our cats at times, it is just part of the normal routine. But recently we have had cause for concern ourselves. My better half went to the doctor with a nasty “bite”. He didn’t like the look of it and gave her strong antibiotics. However, on further reflection he now appears to have agreed that it is actually a tick “bite”.

Needless to say, she is getting better, but the fear of something still being in the head of the “bite” hangs over her.

It has been a tempestuous few weeks and we did wonder whether Tango would come home. I can’t imagine how he has felt in the last few weeks, but I think the link below probably says what he really wanted.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0JwlTtOYGg

The next link below probably best describes the reaction of the other cat.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkXHsK4AQPs

More apple pressing this weekend before the frost rots them all. 

I hope you have a great weekend!

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