Harvesting

Autumn's toes are getting chilly now. The fine ladies of this town are sacrificing hair for hat. The mornings are beautiful when at last they open their eyes to us.

And the colours bring joy enough to see us through to the other side.

In our school playground, apples patiently queue in an admirably English manner. Some have arrived in such number they burst from every door of a car; others are nestled in a basket with just a few friends.

All are destined to be pressed. Here Yuli Somme, felter extraordinaire and creator of the most beautiful natural woolen shrouds, blithely ignores the instructions written on the funnel - with no unfortunate consequences.

The resultant mush is packed in a stack of gridded tins lined with muslin,

each carefully wrapped,







































then squeezed by young and old working the tightening wheel. The nectar is carefully poured into bottles 

and the leftovers taken away by the firstcomer for excellent composting.

This is our freezer. More is in our fridge. More still is in our systems already, keeping the doctor away, we hope.

Fueled by this seasonal sugar bounty, we have been getting creative. Pickle spent ages using the stick end of the brush to make the most beautiful design of dots and dashes. Them she stuck the brush in the black and covered it all up. I make art because I love the process, but it is awesome to watch Pickle do it with not a scrap of regard for the finished result (or the laundry).

I followed a recipe (almost unheard of) and made perfect playdough. We stuck our fingers deep into it, giggling a bit nervously when we couldn't see them any more. We made rings. We made moons and sausages and a little teacup. Then we squidged it all back into a lump, which was the most fun part.

Other harvests have come our way. Perfect horse mushrooms from fields around an organic farm

and a bumper haul from Chagfood: pumpkins galore plus our regular veg box, and an evening of feasting, fire and Baba Yaga storytelling from Coyopa with musical accompaniment from Rima Staines (who, it turns out, can make an accordion snore!). The children claimed they weren't scared. I can only say they must be fools.

All that has got us in the mood for Hallowe'en tonight. Many years I've celebrated Samhain in a (fairly) serious and sacred way. But this year I'm creating a new ceremony. I'm taking my favourite little witch (seen here flying her broomstick backwards - maybe it's a stunt broom) trick-or-treating.

And if any children come to our door, this is what awaits them:

Happy Hallowe'en and Samhain blessings on you all. Let's make it through!

Three weeks in the life of me

Did you miss me? I've been doing everything but blogging lately, so here is a pictorial wander through my recent life.

We were invited to a Lammas homewarming and stew-and-potato feast. The sun shone, the dogs ran, my daughter fell off a chair.

This very handsome man gave Rima her first ever lesson in archery (best to start with imaginary arrows)...

with a little 'help' from Pickle in her Miss Havisham dress.

With a little of Baba Yaga in her eye, Rima fired the best round of anyone.

Lisa joined her in music-making round the fire...

and it seems they (and the rest of us humans) enjoyed it more than than Warlock, our local alpha lurcher, who was more intent on the sausages sizzling at the end of his nose.

As the stars came out, Tom told us the story of Lugh, warming up his storytelling muscles for a performance at Uncivilisation, the second Dark Mountain festival. Very sad I missed his bear dance, but hoping to go another year.

My girl nodded and nuzzled towards sleep, until her kind Gappy (Great Aunt Philippa) took her into her Romahome for a snoozy snuggle so Thomas and I could drink and loll unfettered by a staggering toddler.

Other nights have been quieter, just me and my man and beautiful sunsets. There are huge rewards at the turn of the seasons. The rain can seem relentless, but I wouldn't leave this temperate, rainforest climate when I get skies like this.

We've been to Dartmoor Folk Festival to see more morris dancers and the genuinely alarming Minehead hobby horse.

I've completed another piece for my exhibition, which is now in five days (I will be ready; I will be ready; I will).

We went to Chagford Show, saw very impressive rams,

llamas which I thought were cute until one looked like it was going to spit at Pickle,

miniature donkeys - cute by anybody's standards, but the calf (do donkeys have calves?) was only three months - too young for so much fuss and attention, I felt.

We saw people spangling around the field in big bubbles,

 and the highlight - totally out-of-control terrier racing. 'Terrier' here means ' anything four-legged'. I'm surprised the llamas didn't join in. Once they've been thoroughly wound up and released roughly at the same time to go in entirely separate directions, there's the even more entertaining race between the humans to recapture their dog (who may well be barreling through picnics/toddlers/people perched precariously on stick-stools) and not be the last one yelling and lurching and grasping at thin air while the crowd laughs.

In relation to such ape japes, the beautiful heavy horses were a model of dignity, despite the silly hairdo's, 

and I was quite taken by the fine whiskers of this judge.

Sadly too late to get a stall of his own, Thomas's pixie doors (which now have a dedicated blog) made an appearance on the edge of Miriam's unique jewellery stall

and next to Yuli's stall of felted wonders.

We've been spending our Sunday 'family day' time picking gazillions (I counted) of apples in our incredibly abundant allotment. If you're local, we're looking for good homes for cookers and eaters. 

The trees actually seemed a bit relieved when we took the weight off them, but the three of us did a little thank you dance anyway, just to be polite.

And, most importantly, I have been doing hours and hours of this, soothing my girl as she grows her first molars:

What have you been doing lately?

Yes! and a Family Portrait

Hallelujah! I have been struggling through self-doubt for ages, wondering if there's any merit in what I create at all, feeling the glare of exposure as I show my developing work to the world, including people who were at this stage of their craft as children. It's been tough (admittedly, not in the way that mining or firefighting can be tough), but I'm peeping over the parapet now. 

A couple of days ago I sat down with a few child-free hours ahead, clear in my mind what I wanted to produce. Then I thought, No, I want to just follow my inspiration. And I made this:

Yes!

Brush pen on canvas

5" x 7"

Incredibly, I wasn't interrupted, and I drew the whole piece without thinking ahead once. Every shape, every colour, was a surprise to me.  Occasionally I found myself thinking, I can't do that, it'll spoil it. So I did those things and they all worked.

So here's the crucial note to self: Just sssh your busy, clever little mind and do it. Trust your hands to make it right.

Hopefully you'll be seeing more of these soon... if my hands feel like it.

In other news, we spent part of our sacred weekly Family Day picking oodles of currants and berries from our allotment. Actually, Ent did most of the picking while I popped plenty into the baby bird ever-eager mouth of Ickle Pickle. Such a delight to fill her with divine spheres of juicy wonder. What was left by the time we got home was this:

 Hmm, we did eat a lot. Now they're all in the freezer (except for the gooseberries) awaiting the apple harvest so they can become God's own jam. We are lucky to have our friend's three bee hives on our allotment. And whenever we spot a swarm on the loose, Ent cycles like crazy to fetch our friend and we earn ourselves a jar of the most perfect honey. Beyond good. This year the apples were so heavy on the branches I knocked many off so the boughs wouldn't break. Had to explain myself to each tree as I went because it felt weird to deliberately lose unripe fruit, but many other creatures will benefit.

And, just because it amused me, here is a portrait of our family life as seen on the table before we made room for the berries:

Can you spot: pavement chalks (for sunny day graffiti); tea tree oil (for the nappy buckets); a string of camels, llamas and elephants; a pair of chimes; a fake pot of nuts which in fact contains a worm which bursts out with a huge screech; a cornet (destined for Ent's dad, bought from the Flea Market, which we can get nothing but hilarious farts out of); a bib; a carrier bag of spanners; welding kit in a treasure chest; a book; baby wipes; a book on geology (we just had an earthquake: 2.5 on the Richter scale; and (what home would be complete without) a crocodile.

Finally, this which I found on Terri Windling's blog:

Do please share this about, particularly if you will reach young adults. In my experience, it just keeps on getting better. Hope the same is true for you.