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 to protect against evil. 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.

How different life is when the sun shows its pretty little head!

     Sitting in the window of our home for waifs and strays, writing or painting is so much better when the sun shines. I look out and can see endless things to inspire me. Today I saw a pair of my old wellies and a pot of newly grown herbs. It’s that time of year again, I thought, the time when everything starts to grow, even the weeds.

     I really enjoy growing herbs and once had a field full of almost every herb you could think of. Today, I grow them mostly in pots, it’s a lot less work.  

     Many of us would like to open our kitchen door and pick a handful of herbs to add to our baking. Just breathing in the aromatic smells can release tension. It’s easy enough to do, let’s take a look....

      Some herbs have no patience at all and grow fast, so you would be better off growing them at intervals. Here are a few of them: - parsley, dill, chervil, coriander and basil. Some of the slower, easier going herbs are thyme, sage, mint, sorrell, chives and fennel, plus many more.

     Herbs, like most humans, prefer the sun but I have discovered that many, such as parsley and chives, will grow in the shade with little effort.

     If you’re growing herbs in pots then make sure there is plenty of drainage so you don’t drown all your hard work. Use soil based compost, this is quite important. It is also a good idea to feed your plants with a balanced fertiliser. Just another thought, I think it’s a good idea to water your plants in the morning rather than the evening, we all prefer a drop of water during the day to stop us drying out.

     You can put the seeds straight into your pots outdoors. Or alternatively, you can start them off indoors in trays. When planning where to put your herb pots, remember, if possible, to place them by a wall to protect them during the winter months. Think sun and scent! Growing them close to the kitchen, makes it easy to snip some leaves when and as you need them. Also, they will surprise you with a wonderful aroma of natural smells.

      Many herbs will flower and attract bees; this is another wonder for your newly created garden.

      Just a little note or two...

      Herbs are the basis of all modern medicine.  I will write again soon, a few remedies for you to keep a note of.

      I also grow herbs and lettuce in empty bean cans on my windowsill, at our home for waifs and strays. This amuses my kind and unassuming husband and the guests we have.

It’s the foxing hour so off to check on our hens! Thank you for calling. Pop in again soon, if you have the time!

There is something about shopping in the wild for food. Eating for free, as my father used to call it. From a young age, he taught me how to survive on food from the hedgerows. I often wonder if what I ate was meant to be eaten! But here I am to tell the tale.

     Quite often we would sit by an open fire outdoors, upon which a heavy saucepan sat, with something or another boiling away, usually nettles or rosehips. This was often followed by a bowlful of blackberries and the leaves (quite edible) or gorse flowers, red clover flowers and sticky grass. Sometimes we'de boil up cleavers, goose grass (galium aparine) which were also quite appetising.

     My father would catch a fish or collect cockles or a crab, sometimes a bowl of prawns and shrimps and we would have a feast. All for free, and cooked on a fire on the beach.

      Looking back on those carefree days of eating for free whist my head was permanently in a book full of adventure, there is no wonder I turned out a free spirit. I can hardly resist anything growing wild that is edible and a book full of mystery! But one should invest in a good reference book if you’re not sure of what it is that you can eat. Take for example mushrooms. These can vary enormously, from toadstools to the delicious girolles (yellow-orange mushrooms) so be careful what you eat.

       During the summer months, my father would make a salad of hawthorn leaves, hedge sorrel and hedge mustard, sprinkled with the gorse flowers and marigolds. I can’t say that I liked everything he gave me, and sometimes I would fill my pockets with leaves I couldn’t eat, not to disappoint him. He made such an effort to teach me how to survive in the world.

       And so it is, that I am happiest roaming through woods or along the beach near our home for waifs and strays. The smell of salt in the air helps to revive me when I’m struggling and the touch of the soft earth and the dew on the grass almost always brings me back to life.

Nothing reminds me of my childhood, more than bales of hay. The sight of them in the fields around our home for waifs and strays always makes me heave a peaceful sigh. The freshly cut grass left drying in the sun tells me that summer has arrived again.

     ‘Come down off that tractor!’ my poor father used to shout at me. ‘They don’t need your help with the hay!’ What he was trying to say was, ‘I’m afraid of you falling under its wheels!’ But spending my entire childhood in the country, taught me to take risks!

      I scrumped apples from the farmer’s orchards then ran like a rabbit when he chased me with a gun. I climbed and fell out of trees and rode half wild ponies bare back through the valley and across the beach. There wasn’t a cave I hadn’t entered in the steep cliffs surrounding our home. It was no wonder my father worried.

      But sitting with my comics on a summer’s day, leaning against a bale of hay, was one of my greatest memories of all. Perhaps it was the peacefulness, the simplicity of the time I spent growing up in a child’s paradise.

Doctor Arenicola Marina (his scientific name of course) prefers the quite life down in the burrow beneath the sand, not far from the home for waifs and strays. For entertainment he listens to the goings on above ground. This seems to be far louder during the summer months and can get a wee bit annoying.

     Being a lugworm can be lonely at times and very occasionally, he will risk his life and peep up through the sand to check what’s going on. Despite being an old man at almost six years, he still likes to slide up the head shaft to where he can enter the small saucer-shaped depression, which is a simple design made when Doctor Arenicola Marina eats the sand then uses the basin as a toilet. However, he does risks having his bottom pecked off by bottom eating birds that watch his every move. But Doctor Arenicola Marina is very clever and has only lost is bottom once. He has since, grown another bottom which he carefully guards when needs are a must. Now opposite the tail shaft you will notice a curly sand cast made by the doctor himself. You can see why I call him Doctor Arenicola Marina, as he is like my kind and unassuming husband, very clever! At this point, I must tell you that my kind and unassuming husband has never had his bottom pecked off by any bird, he is much too smart to let happen.

      Doctor Arenicola Marina sighs to himself as he watches for birds out to get him, but he is quick to sense if danger is near. Being around twenty two centimetres long, he is easy to target from the air.

       Now Doctor Arenicola Marina isn’t always a lonely old lugworm. He has many children swimming in the sea and living in burrows just like his own. What Doctor Arenicola Marina must have, I have come to the conclusion, is an imagination. That, in itself, is what keeps him going.