I have had the most delightful day! I actually had time to myself without any pressure of having to do anything in particular. So, I began the day with a cup of sweet tea beside a roaring log fire and Country life magazine resting on my lap. Then the phone rang! I hesitated to answer it, afraid of any demands being made on my time! But I did and I heard myself saying ‘yes, of course I will come!’

     But before I could pop across the road to a friend, for another cup of sweet tea and scones, I had a visitor, someone I hadn’t seen for quite some time. They came with me for the tea and scone (it’s like that in Wales) and I have to say, I had an entertaining time. One of my friends is an artist and the other, a meditation teacher. We chatted about life in our village and the goings on of Mr and Mrs So and So! Nothing too taxing but by now it was almost lunch time.

     The afternoon was spent Christmas shopping with my kind and unassuming husband in Carmarthen, the oldest town in Wales and cwtched (cuddled) in by the river Tawe. The sun warmed our shoulders as we strolled through the narrow cobbled streets where people sang in groups and a harpist played magical music leaving me spellbound.

     To end this restful day, some very good friends of ours came to dinner and we laughed as we exchanged stories of times gone by. Being musicians, some of us played the guitars, piano and drums, plus a variety of weird instruments. We sang as we played, both in Welsh and in English. I felt blessed to be surrounded by such kind and wonderful people. Thank you Pat for playing the piano so beautifully. I loved the Welsh lullabies!

     Remember, it is later than you think so enjoy life while you can!

I was surprised to see that almost all the vegetables we grew last year had been eaten up by myself, my kind and unassuming husband and some nameless little creature. This wasn’t particularly strange, but it was rather odd that the dark store shed was littered with bits of straw from the boxes.

     It isn’t easy growing lots of vegetables, enough to store through the winter, but it is so rewarding. We often leave the carrots and swedes in the ground, protected by a layer of straw. And I love the smell of the sleeping apples and drooling onions in the shed. There is such an earthiness about the whole thing. However, I do moan about it at times.

     I recently asked my kind and unassuming husband what he would like for lunch and he just disappeared down the garden path. How odd, I thought, but he soon returned, with a handful of  vegetables, looking and smelling as fresh as when we picked them, months ago. He said he would like nothing better than homemade soup and some seeded bread, also homemade. So I  set about cooking. There weren’t enough onions, so I strolled over to the store shed, which was just as well!

      How on earth he managed to stay all this time without being traced, I will never know. But a rather full hedgehog slept peacefully on a small pile of hay in a corner. I will keep a careful eye on him!

       Thank heavens our garden for waifs and strays has many safe houses for the amount of visitors  that arrive, often un-noticed. But I do wish they would tidy up after themselves!

        The soup and the bread were delicious! Just as well I made enough for an army, as we had more visitors (the two legged kind) and a wonderful afternoon followed.

DIGGING by Edward Thomas,

To-day I think
Only with scents, - scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot's seed,
And the square mustard field;

Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;

The smoke's smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth."

Even when no boat floats upon it and no fish can be seen, and even if the water is as smooth as a millpond, it still has the power to draw one to it.

     The original name for the Pacific Ocean was ‘peaceful sea’ and although at times this isn’t the case, there is a certain aura of both peacefulness and power about it. It has the power to give and the power to take away.

      Below this surface that we often stare at with little thought, are thousands of islands, volcanoes, valleys and the longest mountain range on Earth, known as The Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Indeed, another world full of mystery. Another world full of life we have yet to discover.

      But we do know that the largest animal ever to have lived on this planet, lives beneath this water we love to stare at. The Blue whale, (Balaenoptera musculus) is around 30 metres in length and weighs 170 tonnes or more.  Her voice is louder than a jet and her heart is about the size of a Volkswagen beetle, how amazing is that?  

      So it is no wonder we stare at this magnitude of water that covers 70% of our planet. The sheer size of it is enough to make anyone feel in awe of its vastness. From its gentle ripples to its tsunamis, this part of our planet will always be something to watch, to listen to, to be mindful of.  

      For me, standing at the water’s edge, drinking in the fresh salty air, allows me to think or to meditate and not think at all. If I’m sad, its endless murmur soothes and restores my soul. 

‘We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch-we are going back from whence we came.’

John F Kennedy

We are not the only animals on this planet that experience grief. For many years, I have watched animals grieve in very much the same way as humans and today was one of those days.

       As a young child my father taught me that all animals should be shown respect and he talked about the grief they felt for each other. The first time I saw this for myself, was when our cat caught a magpie and left the poor dead creature on our doorstep. As I cradled the large black and white bird, I was alarmed at the screeching and screaming of another magpie in a tree nearby. It cried pitifully for the next couple of hours.

        Sea lions also wail pitifully when having to watch killer whales eat their babies and dolphins mourn for sometime after the death of their young.

        Back at our home for waifs and strays, I have endured many times the harrowing cries of a sheep when its lamb has been hit by a car on the common close by.  The same applies to horses and cattle.

        But stranger still are the hens. Not so long ago I witnessed an amazing sight. I thought it was odd, that despite the sunshine, there was not a hen in sight. I wondered around the garden and down by the pond but still no sign of them. Remembering that one young girl was broody, I opened up the henhouse door and to my surprise, they were all inside. I watched for a moment in disbelief that they could all be laying eggs or possibly gone broody, but then I saw the reason for their strange behaviour. Our oldest hen, Freebie, was dying.

        As I have said before, hens always know when another is sick or dying. One will almost always stay close, until the end. But here were all my hens, standing in a circle around poor Freebie. She died shortly afterwards, peacefully.

        Grief is a powerful emotion and although we think differently to other animals, our feelings are quite often the same.

In a corner of our garden for waifs and strays is a family of mushrooms and toadstools. We call it Kingdom Fungi.    

      Life in Kingdom Fungi is quite laid back and no-one moans about there being little sunlight, as they don’t require it to make energy for themselves. 

     These colourful Fungi, made up of around 90% of water, contain more potassium in a single Portabella than in a banana! And, they help us in the reduction of cholesterol and blood pressure to name just a few important things. As a family, we often add mushrooms instead of meat, to our meals. 

     Like a mycophagist, I often take a basket and collect mushrooms from the woods, just as my father taught me. But some, despite looking like your average mushroom, can be poisonous so care should be taken and hands should always be washed afterwards. 

     Some mushrooms glow in the dark (I have never seen them) due to a chemical reaction called bioluminescence which produces a light known as foxfire. Apparently, these fungi have been used as torches in the dark woods. 

     Long ago, before the invention of synthetic dyes, Kingdom Fungi were used for dying wool and other natural fibres. Vivid colours were produced from the organic compounds of the mushroom dye. 

     So it’s a fact, my kind and unassuming husband and I have our very own amazing fungi family living right under our noses. And as I pass by their Kingdom, I cannot help but imagine a world of ‘little people’ living right under my nose!