Pig racing

Yes, that's right.  Pig racing.  We were delighted to find out that there would be some of this fascinating sport going on round our way.  Sampford Arundel cricket ground were hosting the event.  They had a bbq, with a huge queue, teas and coffees, with a wait for the kettle to boil because the urn had packed up and lots of people with large bellies and small dogs. We were about to experience some real country fun!

We had seen the hand-painted sign a few days earlier and thought, well, why not go along and see what this is all about, you never know we might meet some nice people... A Devonshire friend was going to pop in and see us on his way back home from London town, so we persuaded him to meet us at the field for the big race.

Have you ever been to a pig racing event?  Well, we hadn't either and it was a bit of a giggle.   Bubbaboo was so excited when he saw the pigs, he was squealing away like a, well, like a pig.  He loved all the dogs too and must have found the whole experience quite strange because he was asleep in the babycarrier to start with and all the screaming for the first race woke him up.  I mean imagine waking up and seeing loads of people shouting at some pigs.

All the pigs had a different coloured ribbon around their necks, which was changed after each race so there was no favouritism.  You bought a raffle ticket that corresponded with the colour of the pig's ribbon and at the start of the race we were told the amount each coloured ticket would win and at the end of the race, you went back to the table to collect your winnings.  So a ticket cost 50p and for the first race the winning ticket won £1.40.  We were well chuffed, we had backed the winning pig and had even bought two tickets, so we won £2.80.  Result.  Sadly we had to leave after the first race, our friend needed to get home and so we left with him, besides we needed to get back to put the roast pork in the oven... 

Wooden Glasses

Hmm, I've been looking at these gorgeous Herrlicht wooden frames, sorry he calls them wood frames, is that right, shouldn't it be wooden frames? Anyway, they are to die for!  At a price that will 'blur your vision' as one critic wrote - $1,160.  Have a look for yourself, I can't copy the pictures, but urge you to look at them, in his gallery, what a dude, what vision....sorry...

http://www.herrlicht.de/en_sites/kollektion.php

Herrlicht frames, oh so beautiful, just the sort of thing that my dear Jam would make - SHOULD make for me, and him, and probably in the future for Bubbaboo...  I shall put him to work!

Making Rice Milk

Darling Jam decided to do a bit of research to see if we could buy Rice milk in bulk, the same way he tried to do it for eco - nappies, although we ended up using re-usable nappies instead, which saved a lot of money, but the nappies story is for another post. 
So, whilst researching he stumbled across this blog Vegan reader and an article on how to make your own Rice milk.  The Vegan reader blog is really interesting food for thought and I easily lost a few hours reading it and recommend you do to.  The recipe and method is on there and probably advisable to go to that for all the info, but it's really quite an easy process, heck if I can do it anyone can! 

Boil up some rice for a few hours, add a bit of salt, syrup if you want it sweetened, oil and blend it, strain it and hey presto there's your rice milk.  Whilst we were making it and at the straining stage I was getting a little impatient and started putting the bits that wouldn't go through the muslin into a bowl.  Rolypoly, (is that alright to start calling Rowan that, I realise I haven't changed his name and really think I should seeing as though I change all the other names! So there it is, Rowan is Rolypoly, to go with Jam and Flora, unless you come up with a better one...)

So, Rolypoly was very inquisitive and keen to see what I was doing, then wanted to taste it and of course - it's nice, it's delicious, yummy rice mush for the baby, so instead of spending a few more hours squashing it through the muslin I fed it to Rolypoly instead! He LOVED it!  Picture to prove it...

   

Garden Glory

This is our garden.  The veggie part of it anyway.  When we first moved in the greenhouse was overgrown with a grapevine.  We picked the grapes and Jam is in the process of making wine out of it, I think he is going to bottle it soon, I hope, although we are sure it will taste rank.  Next to the greenhouse is a little cage which holds redcurrants and raspberries.  Rowan and I picked some raspberries yesterday and they were delicious.

When we got back from a week away at Jam's Aunty's making steps in her garden, we were overjoyed to find we had loads of broad beans, a few courgette's growing, mange tout, tomatoes, self seeded potatoes from probably about three years ago when Jam's grandad was last into his gardening. Massive turnip like radishes, sprouts, kale, artichokes, all growing up big and strong! Hoorah! Finally we get green fingers and without too much effort! Well, Jam does all the weeding and tending, I water occasionally, make tea and offer advice and I found some grey larvae on a kale plant and ripped it up, to Jam's horror, my thinking being that I needed to get whatever it was out of the garden quick so that it wouldn't attack the rest of the plants.  Jam reminded me that we should try and work out what it is and cure the plant rather than rip it up and I see his point, I think I was just tired and scared!

Listography - Decisions

Kate Takes 5 has a brilliant blog and a weekly listography themed this week on decisions. So without further ado, here are my top five best decisions...

1)  Learning to play the violin - after the initial stages of sounding like a cat being strangled and having to practise in the garden shed, even in winter, it has enriched my life completely, a highlight was being able to play in a cool dance band called Loonaloop and tour Australia...

2)  Marrying my husband was a grrrrreat decision, he also plays violin and makes instruments, he's made me a guitar and a wooden puppet of me each year for my birthday - that must be love!
(He's just bought in my dinner too, so beautifully presented...)

3)  Deciding to stop trying to fix my family's problems and concentrate on building my own, family that is, not problems....

4)  Being an instinctive parent, learning to trust my heart and love my family.

5)  Moving to the country - despite missing London boat life, this country lark is lovely and calm and green and peaceful and saving us lots of money so we can hopefully get our foot on the property market ladder and do lots of other exciting things, like maybe one day get back down under.

Trains...

My Mum was visiting her sister in Birmingham so we thought it would be a great idea if I jumped on the train with Rowan and went a couple of stops with her so she could coo over him and we could exchange gifts. 

Unfortunately we didn't plan for all the traffic, well we did plan for some traffic but not quite as much as there was and we missed the train, but as I was jumping out of the car to see if it had perhaps been delayed, Jam carried on driving thinking I was out and managed to run over my ankle.

I sat in the train station, the train had not been delayed, my ankle was throbbing but thankfully not broken, Rowan was half asleep and bewildered as Mummy burst into tears.  I was destroyed. Jam was mortified - 'I've just run over my wife!'  But never mind there was the return journey a week later, and for that train we were an hour early. 

Rowan loved being on the train, he insisted on me walking up and down the aisles so he could stop and chatter to all the other customers, flirt with the girls and eat the gentleman's newspaper.  He loved my Mum's wheelchair and was very interested in the guard's funny lollipop that he used to signal to the driver.

Cars...

Our kindly donated car, the lovely golf Red, is sadly on its last legs, well, wheels and feels a bit like a death trap to drive.  To get it through its next MOT it is not worth doing the work against the value of the car. So it served us well for nearly a year and we are sadly going to have to scrap it or try and sell it for parts. 
Luckily Jam's Dad used to be in the car trade and has helped us find another.  We were going to go for a Mercedes A class, not that that meant much to me, and it was a snotty green, or rather a distinctive and unusual colour.  It would have been nice to say we drive a Mercedes but that is not the case, for it was quite old and if the electrics went on it it would have cost too much to fix. So we've now got a Vauxhall Astra, more simply, a reliable green car, we've called him Verdi, with a really good roll on the Rrrrrr. I don't know why we feel the need to name our cars.
 We found Verdi on ebay, on viewing the car the boot wouldn't open, and the owner, an old man, 92, and his grandson who was probably the real driver of it considering the sort of 'young wasters' rubbish found down between the seats, decided to sell it to us off the site for a lower rate.  Deal.  Then it failed its MOT - great.  But Jam's Dad jumped to the rescue and we are up and running on the road again, for less than the price we'd originally bid.  Hoorah!
Saw a beautiful old triumph herald the other day, now that's a car I'd love to own....