You can always smell the bread cooking in our home for waifs and strays.  It was the same in my home, as a child. When my father wasn’t blowing up the place with his experiments, he would spend much of the time in the kitchen. His speciality was bread and brawn (a jelly made from pigs head) which ultimately traumatised me. Well I hasten to add that just like the tickling of an unsuspecting trout, I never participated in the eating of an animal that had ended its days as a blob of jelly on our kitchen table.

     However, I get great pleasure in making bread and my kind and unassuming husband gets pleasure in eating the many varieties that turn out on the rack.  Even the birds enjoy the scraps that are left over, if they are lucky!

     Sometimes, I will make butter and jams to go with the bread but for that, I have to be in the right mood.

      The other day, I decided to make beetroot bread. Yes, I know what you are thinking and yes, it is pink! Pretty and also good for lowering blood pressure. 

      I used this recipe by Anca Moore...Why not have a go and let me know how you get on! Good luck!

Ingredients:

• 150ml warm water
• 15g (1tbs) dried yeast
• 1tsp sugar
• 2-3 raw beetroot
• 120ml milk
• 600g strong bread white flour
• 30g olive oil
• 2 tsp salt

Method:

1. Reactivate the yeast in the warm water mixed with sugar (as per the product's instructions) or use fast action dried yeast
2. Peel the beetroot (you might want to use gloves if you don't like your hands getting red, but it will come off quite easily anyway). 
3. Once peeled, cut them in quarters/chunks and put them in a food processor together with the milk. Mix until there are no big bits of beetroot and the texture is smooth
4. In a big bowl mix the flour and salt. Add the yeast, beetroot mixture and olive oil and start bringing the dough together.
5. Knead the bread on a clean surface for about 10 minutes. 
6. Put the dough in a big bowl and cover with a lightly oiled clingfilm and leave it in a warm place for about an hour or until doubled in size .
7. Prepare a tray (I used a pizza tray, but not the one with holes)
8. Knock the dough back, remove from the bowl and shape into a round . Put in in the prepared tray, cover with the lightly oiled clingfilm and leave it to rise for another 30-45 minutes.
9. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees.

10. Make a cross on the top of the dough with a sharp knife and bake it in the oven for 35-40 minutes. It is done when the crust is crispy and it sounds hollow when tapped.

11. Allow the bread to completely cool on a cooling wrack before slicing it.

It is really lovely served with butter and cheese (especially goat's cheese) and salad.

My kind and unassuming husband and I walked a part of the 186 miles of cliff tops which stretch from Amroth in the south to St Dogmeals in the north of Pembrokeshire, West Wales. Despite all the twists and turns, the ups and downs, we were rewarded with some of the most stunning scenery in Britain.

     The steep limestone cliffs stretch all the way down to sandy bays where the grey seals often bask. From volcanic headlands to flooded glacial valleys, this walk has it all. One can even find traces of Neolithic times in this ancient and historic part of the world.

     For me, as always, I searched for birds and fox holes, rabbit holes, and flowers, anything that moved or didn’t move, but belonged there.

     We rested on an old wooden bench away from the edge but close enough to hear the murmur of the sea and I thought how lucky are we? No sounds of war, no running for our lives, no starvation or dehydration. But only two hours away from our beloved island, peace is shattered. Lives are lost! Unnecessary pain is felt! Please, I said silently, so even the birds could not hear, please let there be peace in this world and let it begin with each and every one of us.

Mr Tyto lived with his wife in an old derelict farmhouse near the home for waifs and strays.  They were happy barn owls until one day a storm came and Mr Tyto went missing.

      Mrs Tyto was very upset and kept peeping out the broken roof to see if he was coming home. But all Mrs Tyto saw was flashes of light across the sky and fat drops of rain fell on her face.

      ‘Oh I wish he hadn’t gone hunting on a night like this,’ she  cried and turned to look at her four babies huddled together in the corner of the nest. Their white heart shaped faces peered up at her. They needed feeding but the cupboard was bare.

      The little barn owls began to make hissing and chittering sounds as they talked to each other. They never hooted like the tawny owls.

       ‘Keep the noise down!’ said their mother. But they were tired and hungry and soon began to squabble.

       With each flash of lightening and each roll of thunder, Mrs Tyto shivered and wished the storm would end.

        Meanwhile, not very far away, Mr Tyto was sheltering in the garden of the home for waifs and strays. There was no way to get a message to his wife, informing her that he was safe and well, so he pulled a wing over his head and tried to get some sleep. It was a long night for both Mr and Mrs Tyto. The hungry and exhausted babies slept, which was a great relief for their mother.  

         As if by magic, the storm passed and Mrs Tyto stretched open her wings to greet the sun. Just as she was about to close them, she saw her husband flying silently home and she almost cried. Well she would have cried had it not been for her hissing babies. So she laughed instead as Mr Tyto wrapped his wings around them all.

In our garden for waifs and strays, you will find a wizards’ tree. Once known as ‘Fid na ndruad’, the rowan tree has been associated with witches and magic. This is probably because of its bright red berries being the right colour for fighting evil. So it is no wonder that people in Wales who once believed this superstition, would often plant a rowan tree in a churchyard for protection. But there is no evil in the garden for waifs and strays, just magic!

      Rowan, or Sorbus aucuparia  (its scientific name) has many uses, from its berries to its wood. The berries are rich in vitamin C and quite edible once cooked. They make wonderful jelly and jams. But be sure you are picking the correct berries.

Rowan Jelly

Ingredients:

• 1 kg Rowan berries, cleaned
• 400 ml Water,
• gelling agent (pectin)

Preparation:

Place the berries in a pan, add the water and cover. Heat to simmering, then cover and let it sit overnight. Strain through a cheesecloth. Follow the instructions on the gelling agent package to make the jelly with the resultant juice. Should make about 1 litre of juice.

     Walking sticks are carved from the rowan trees smooth and silvery grey wood, which is strong and resilient. Spinning wheels and spindles were traditionally made and the bark was used by the Druids as a dye.

        So this incredible small tree that can live to be 200 years old, can sit in our garden for as long as it likes.  Whether or not it has magical powers, it is magical just looking at it.  And a song was also written about it in 1822 by Lady Carolina Nairne (1766-1845) that went like this.....

 Oh rowan tree, oh rowan tree,
Thoul't aye be dear to me.
Entwin'd thou art wi' mony ties,
O' hame and infancy.
Thy leaves were aye the first o spring,
Thy flowr's the simmer's pride:
There was na sic a bonnie tree,
In all the country side.
Oh rowan tree.

The Purple Poppy

(A tribute to animals of war)

By J.J.Moffat

Recruiting for the First World War was something pigeons, cats, dogs and horses were not prepared for and neither were the glow worms or the slugs. Millions of animals were taken from the comfort of their homes to join the Army. They marched beside soldiers, bewildered, frightened and without choice.

     In France, trenches soon became infested with thousands of rats, breeding young ones and spreading disease. And so it was, 500,000 cats were employed as ratters. Many a man welcomed these creatures, not just because they killed the rats, but they raised morale which helped temporarily to relieve the stress of war. Quite often, when the sound of the guns blasted above them, the cats lay with the dying soldiers.

     Above the trenches, come rain, wind, or snow, soldiers on horseback raced to the front. Over a million mules and horses had been deployed from Britain alone, with the rest being shipped from North America at a thousand per week. Eight million horses died during The Great War, mostly from war wounds; foot rot, influenza, ringworm, starvation and gangrene. Hunger was a major problem, so sawdust was added to their food to slow down digestion. And despite all their efforts, these brave animal soldiers of war, often succumbed to the relentless bombardment and suffered from debilitating shellshock.

     Once again, when threatened by mustard gas, the Army turned to animals for help. They tested many of them for the detection of gas but they all failed, with the exception of the innocent garden slug. Why, may you ask? Exposed to mustard gas, the slug closes its breathing aperture, so protects its lungs. Recruited immediately and without training, they were marched to war!

      Back in the dark, dank trenches, winter loomed with the promise of being the coldest that France could ever recall.  Soldiers struggled to read their maps and letters from home and morale was low. Then along came an enormous army of glow worms. Not your average soldier by any stretch, but they proved their worth by joining the ranks and living in jam jars. It seemed that nothing could escape this terrible war! 

     Soon, the trenches, built from sandbags and wood, were occupied not only by soldiers, but cats, glow worms, slugs and dogs. It is no wonder, that typhus, dysentery and cholera soon followed. The unsuspecting dogs, once someone’s pet, were trained as messengers and enemy detectors whilst others became Mercy dogs on the battlefield. Carrying medical supplies in a box attached to them, these brave canine soldiers sought out the wounded and dying. Sitting besides the bloodied men, their cries merged as one.

     Americans didn’t use dogs, until they discovered a stowaway on board one of their ships. That dog, ‘Sergeant Stubby’ became the most highly-ranked and decorated service dog in military history. Around a million of these dogs died in action.

     The war was not only being fought on the ground, but up in the sky where pigeon ‘spies’ flew between France and Britain and frontline trenches. Strapped to them were messages, vital to the soldiers. These amazing birds (100,000 of them and probably more) fought the enemy falcons, released by the Germans in the battle of the sky. These birds of prey could bring the pigeon spies down when all else failed.

     And so this bloodiest of wars, with a total loss of more than 9 million soldiers, not counting civilians and the animals that supported them, ended at 11 o’clock in the morning of the 11^th day of the 11^th month in 1918.  But for the animals, their war was far from over.

     The National Archives in Kew, London, tell a sad tale of thousands of animal ‘soldiers’ left behind at the end of the war, in the hands of Belgian and French butchers. The same thing happened after WW2. Churchill was furious when he heard of their plight and arranged for their safe return home.

     In November 2004, Princess Anne, the Princess Royal, unveiled the Animals in War Memorial in Hyde Park, London. This was designed by an English sculptor to commemorate the animal soldiers that served and died under British Military command, throughout history.

At the going down of the sun, we will remember them.