Driving past this church today, brought back many memories. I was christened here, confirmed here and was married here. So were my parents and Grandparents before me. Sadly, they have now all departed and are buried here. I thought about this for a moment and realised how much I miss them and how much they have missed.

     At our home for waifs and strays, we also have a burial plot for all the animals that have died.  A candle is lit regularly at the sight and flowers grow around it. My dear and unassuming husband takes great care in keeping our little graveyard in immaculate condition. Just as I try to attend to the family plot at the local church. Though I have to admit, I am certainly not as dedicated and patient as he is, not by any means!

     But it made me think! And although I do not like to dwell on such things, it is good to remember our roots. It took a long time for me to discover where my roots were and where in the ground they were firmly planted. It seems strange to some people who hear me say this, being a child of eccentric parents who brought me up to be feral. But all wild things need to be grounded in body if not in spirit...I think!

     I have certainly got a ‘free spirit’ but I could not possibly ‘grow’ without feeling rooted. Driving past the church today reminded of my roots, not just the roots of my ancestors, but the roots I have planted myself, in our home for waifs and strays.

A phone call from my neighbour today, made me grab my camera and run. You see, in her garden were six pheasants...all female. I knew instantly that they were girls, due to their dull colour. The males are much more attractive with a golden plumage.

      ‘’I thought you’d be interested,’ she said excitedly. And I was. But I was also a wee bit concerned, as I know that these girls were bred to be hunted.

       I took some photos of these exotic looking creatures and thought about how far they were from their natural home in South East Asia. I stayed awhile and chatted about the goings on at our home for waifs and strays and the world in general. But the reason for this story is about to come.....

       A little while after the visit to my neighbour’s house, I received a texted message....this is exactly what it said....

      I was in the shed and suddenly heard, what appeared to be explosive noises! Oh my God, they are shooting the pheasants!!!!!! Then I listened more carefully and realised it was your dear and unassuming husband chopping wood. Oh the relief. You make a relationship with a pheasant when you feed it!

      I have to say I laughed. My dear and unassuming husband was totally unaware of the anxiety he had caused and I laughed again at the realisation that my neighbours are also reading about the daily goings on at our home for waifs and strays.

      As for the dear pheasants, perhaps I ought to put up a sign saying, this way to safety!  

For all who are following the story of 'A Chicken called Sandwich' the next chapter is over on Small Tales!

Being a child of an eccentric father, and encouraged to run free, I welcomed a long weekend at the Buddhafield Festival in Somerset, last year. Once again I belonged in a community which is drawn to nature and the beauty of the natural world. It reminded me so much of my childhood and it was a reminder of how easy it is to let ‘life’ dominate the ‘life’ we want to live.

       At our home for waifs and strays, it appears to many, harmonious and a simple way to live, but it takes a lot of effort to sustain this type of lifestyle. My very dear and unassuming husband works very hard to keep our home in good order, using recycled products as much as possible. In the kitchen, I cook as naturally and organically as possible....but I still have a lot to learn!   

       Living as simply as we can, brings a lot of satisfaction, but one also needs to think the same way....if that makes sense! We all want or long for material things and get disappointed if we cannot have them. Learning to live without these often unnecessary items can be achieved and will bring a lot of positive satisfaction. It’s all about changing the way we think.

       At Buddhafield, I saw many ‘like minded’ people who were trying hard to find pathways to an ‘earthier’ way of life and to a more sustainable future. We gathered in workshops and around campfires, serenaded by a variety of musicians.

     At the end of those four wonderful days, I felt revitalised and took home with me an even greater determination to live as simply as possible.....Well, I'm still working at it!

Throughout the summer months, you will often find me helping in my families pop up cafe. Although it is hard work, I always look forward to these special days. My dear and unassuming husband stays at our home for waifs and strays, where there is always an endless amount of work to be done.

      We normally use a village hall close to the sea and advertise well in advance. Our ‘old fashioned’ tea room has an atmosphere of times gone by, with food made especially to suit. There is much laughter and chit chat as we prepare the tables with white cotton cloths and a candle in the centre of each one. The buntings we have made (hours of fun) hang cheerfully around the room and outside, a colourful banner announces our arrival.

     It has taken a long time to collect all the right items for the cafe and most of that time was spent scouring charity shops and jumble sales. I have to admit, that I often came out with more than just vintage teapots, cake stands and odd cups and saucers.

     The family work so well together, another blessing I always count. We know in advance what job is allocated to us and no-one ever seems to complain...well maybe just a little! Someone will make the sandwiches (fresh to order) and someone will make endless teas and coffees. Someone, very important, will take care of the cakes (many of them) and take the orders off the designated waitress, which is usually our dear friend Joan. I have to add that this started off as my job but because I talked too much, I was ‘sacked’ and now I usually work in the kitchen....where, I’m sure, most of the talking is done anyway!

      It gives us all great pleasure to see people enjoying the food we have so carefully prepared and served in a warm and relaxing atmosphere. And although we make very little money from it, the reward is in the time we have spent together. I would say that communication is the key to our survival as a close family and the desire to make the most of our lives.