Today’s guest picture comes from my friend, the clarinet playing gardener Liz and shows a fine scarlet elf cup which she met while walking the dog,
I started the day by making a lamb stew for the slow cooker while Mrs Tootlepedal went off to sing in the church choir. I use the slow cooker on Sunday if possible so that we have a meal ready for us when we get back in the evening from our Carlisle choir practice.
Once the stew was safely on its way, I got out the slow bike and pedalled up to the Moorland project bird feeders. This was not so quite as straightforward as it might seem, as there is a long and fairly steep hill involved. I passed a lady jogger at the bottom of the hill and bust a gut pedalling on, hoping not to suffer the indignity of being overtaken by a runner. Fortunately my knee held up well and I arrived at the feeders with my pride intact.
I made the trip not to fill the feeders this time but to attend the official opening of the new hide. A promise of hot drinks and cakes had drawn a good number of enthusiasts out on a chilly but fine morning.
The hide was officially opened by head gamekeeper Simon Lester and in the picture below, you can see him flanked by project leader, Cat Barlow and skilled cabinet maker, Daniel Lacey with some of the scout volunteers who together brought the dream of a hide to a reality.
The birds themselves seemed remarkably calm about the whole affair and continued pecking away…
(I have just checked Sandy’s blog and he has a much better set of pictures of the opening than I have got.)
Probably because the better day had made feeding in the wild more attractive, there were very few birds in the garden when I got home but a couple of colourful characters caught my eye. One not so common…
…and the other, a frequent flier.
My sister Susan complains that I have too many restless flying birds on the blog so here is a calm chaffinch for her.
At the choir, our usual musical director was off on business with one of his other choirs so we had a substitute today. he was a bit handicapped by our accompanist falling ill on her way and having to go home but he played the piano and directed us simultaneously…and with great gusto. We worked hard for him.
The lamb stew turned out very well and as it was accompanied by a good chunk of sour dough bread (which my friend Sue had given us at the choir) and followed by a semolina pudding, the evening meal took on the likeness of a feast. Because it was Mothering Sunday, I not only did the cooking but the washing up too. Mrs Tootlepedal may take some time to recover.
Among all the perching birds, a flying bird was hard to find and when I did find one, it hid its face.