Category Archives: Crich and the farms

How to feed an orphan kitten by hand

07 Thursday Jul 2016

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We found the kitten in wet grass late Friday afternoon, with its umbilical cord attached and its eyes still shut.

We named her Shadow, in honor of our black cat who died several months ago, and have been feeding her by hand since then, every three hours, through day and night.

It’s not an easy process, because a big, hairless person wielding a plastic nipple filled with a mix of water and a white powder almost certainly feels nothing like her furry mother providing her own nice warm milk.

Why are you shoving this horrible thing into my mouth?

Why are you shoving this horrible thing into my mouth?

Shadow often turns her head away from the nipple, so some cunning is required.

I squeeze a little drop of milk out of the nipple somewhere in the direction of her always-turning, often shut, mouth, and hope she is inspired to try for more.  If she opens her mouth to mew, I gently put the nipple into her mouth.  Sometimes she sucks, mostly she doesn’t, so I do this thing where I try to squirt small amounts of milk into her mouth which she might or might not swallow.  She always ends up with a lot of milk around her mouth.eyes open

But by keeping at it, we’re getting about 5 mils of milk down her every three hours, and she seems to be doing okay.

My 13yo has perfected the technique.  Click on this link to see her feeding little Shadow:

Feeding our young kitten by hand

 

Screen Shot 2016-07-07 at 12.20.09 PM

 

US vs UK: British humo(ur)

02 Sunday Aug 2015

Posted by in Crich and the farms, How we're coming along, Humor/humour, US vs UK

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There’s a lot of joking around in England, between people who know each other, and among strangers.  Just about every interaction I have in a shop ends with a joke.

Back in the US, I often joke with people waiting with me at the “T” (Boston’s train station, like the Underground in London or the subway in New York City), in stores, or on street corners as we wait for a light to change, but I find that I’m sometimes met with blank stares. This happens in England, of course, especially if the person you’re talking to is cranky, but more often an interaction ends with a joke.

This morning I was in a little shop in my parents’ village, and I made a mention of the headline in that day’s Daily Mail to the man at the till/register. IMG_1687The headline concerned the fact that members of the House of Lords get paid 300 pounds a day for their travel expenses, no matter where they live.  Out of the 161 members of the Lords who live in London, 124 have claimed the daily allowance this year, including one who lives 200 feet away from Parliament.

Courtesy, The Daily Mail.

Courtesy, The Daily Mail.

I turned to the shop clerk and said, “Can you believe that?  300 pounds to walk 200 feet?” Without losing a beat he said, “I’ll do it for fifty.”

The crazy nettle lady plants wildflowers

29 Wednesday Jul 2015

Posted by in Crich and the farms, How we're coming along, US vs UK

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Bluebell wood

Bluebell wood

The crazy nettle lady, also known as moi, is moving along with my plan to plant wildflower and bluebells seeds where nettles once grew on the lane on my uncle’s farm.

As I said in an earlier post, I hate nettles.  Not only because of their nasty stings, but because they smother the indigenous wildflowers that are so important to a wide variety of insects, bees, and other wildlife.  Nothing can grow in patches of nettles.

Last summer I pulled up 6,500 nettles along the lane and yes, I counted every one. This summer I’ve pulled up at least the same number, for a total of at least 13,000 nettles.

That’s a lot of nettles, especially if you include scratching around in the dirt to pull up their sinuous, diabolical, malevolent roots. (Did I already say that I hate nettles, especially the fact that if you leave one bit of root in the dirt, the nettles will resurrect themselves?)

Horrible nettle roots.

Horrible nettle roots.

I don’t think I’m exaggerating, but I think I’ve pulled up 1/3 of the total number of nettles on the lane, and at least 50% of the goose grass, also known as cleaver. As my mother says, Any remaining nettles quake when they see me coming.

The time has come to plant wildflowers.

I chose two patches:  one in full sun for an array of wildflowers;  the other in shade for the gorgeous English bluebells.

First, the sunny patch.

The wall had tumbled down, hence the need for the post and barbed wire, so my first job was to move the stones to the side, clear out the nettles and roots, and put the post back in.  I added several inches of the good rich dirt I got when digging the tops off molehills (more on this later).

IMG_1673

I then opened up a so-called “Bee Mat,” which is a fabric with wildflowers embedded in it.

The bee mat of wildflowers favoured by bees and other insects.

The so-called “bee mat” of wildflowers favoured by bees and other insects.

It has these wildflowers in it:

The wildflowers.

The wildflowers.

I placed the mat on the molehill dirt which is very black and rich . . .

IMG_1668and then covered it with 5-10 centimeters of more dirt from the molehills (however much that is–I need it said in inches, please!).

IMG_1671

Then I moved on to my bluebell wood.

Shady area for bluebells.

Shady area for bluebells.

There are a lot of bluebells in the wood one field away from the lane, so I collected several hundred seeds and scattered them about in the shady spot on the lane.IMG_1683 (1)

Stay tuned to this space next summer, and I’ll let you know how my plans for wildflowers turned out!

Mountains out of molehills

27 Monday Jul 2015

Posted by in Crich and the farms, How we're coming along

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IMG_1428Today my uncle Frank and I are going to tackle the molehills in one of his top fields next to the moor.

Moles can wreak havoc with farmers’ fields, not to mention churchyards, cricket pitches, and other places where land needs to be flat.

Frank is about to start silaging (basically, cutting long grass, putting it in a dry place, and covering it with sheets of plastic).  He will use it to feed cattle over the winter.  If the tops of the molehills aren’t removed, they will be sucked up with the silage and contaminate it. Even cattle don’t like to eat dirt.

There are easier ways to deal with this using machinery, but Frank doesn’t have that particular capability with the machines he has, so here we are in a field that was drenched by last night’s torrential rain, taking the tops off the molehills by hand.

The tools of our trade:  a shovel, a short hoe, and a wheelbarrow.

IMG_1421

The best time to deal with molehills is when the grass is short and the activity of the moles is easy to observe, like this:IMG_1657 (1)

But with all the other demands of farming, it’s not always possible to find the time to deal with molehills earlier in the year. Now in late July, the grass has grown tall and completely obscures the molehills.IMG_1423

Courtesy, Nottinghamshire Wildlife Organization.

Courtesy, Nottinghamshire Wildlife Org.

Frank and I are basically walking around the field as blind as moles, because we can’t see the molehills under the long grass.  But then we’ll feel a slight rise under our boots, and we’ll part the grass and often find what we’re looking for.IMG_1429

And most likely we discover a whole series of molehills, all of which need their tops taking off.IMG_1440

Using the hoe, we scoop the rich black dirt onto a shovel, then put it into a wheelbarrow which we then wheel to the edge of the field to dump it out, or put it in bags to use elsewhere.IMG_1438Notice the small hole below that moles use to get oxygen into their molehills.IMG_1446

It’s such rich, black dirt that I commandeer three bags for my project planting wildflowers.  The dirt isn’t appropriate for use in gardens, because it’s filled with grass seeds, but it’s perfect for me because I want to have native plants, including grasses, growing in my area set aside for wildflowers. The rest of the dirt Frank uses to fill in large ruts in a field made by tractors during the wintertime.

This is one of the many things I love about farming; almost everything can be put to use, even molehills!

Wildflowers of the north of England

25 Saturday Jul 2015

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A summertime meadow near my uncle’s farm.

One of the very nicest things about England is all the flowers.  The gardens (sometimes it feels as if everyone here is a gardener) and the meadows and hedgerows are filled with flowers.

I’ve noticed that there are fewer wildflowers than when I spent my summers here as a child. Probably part of the reason is the increased use of fertilizers by farmers for their crops of wheat, barley, potatoes, and hay/silage.

Another reason for the decline of wildflowers might be due to the profusion of nettles, goose grass (also called cleaver), and other invasive plants that smother anything in its path. I’ve been taking photos of wildflowers in the spring and summer, and here they are.

Please let me know if you know the name of a flower I haven’t been able to identify, or if I’ve got something wrong. This is my favorite wildflower, a bluebell.

images-2

Here’s a wood filled with bluebells near my uncle’s farm.

Bluebell wood

Bluebell wood

Foxgloves

Foxgloves on my cousins’ farm.

A wild orchid--increasingly rare.

A wild orchid–increasingly rare.

The wonderfully named rosebay willowherb.

Rosebay willowherb.

Rosebay willowherb.

hardy geraniumhardy geranium along the banks of the canal.

Unknown

Unknown

Meadowsweet

Meadowsweet

clover

clover

Eggs and Bacon

Eggs and Bacon or bird’s foot trefoil

Buttercups

Buttercups

Cow parsley

wild pea

Hogweed

Hogweed

unknown

Unknown.

Bird’s eye or speedwell (thanks to Iota Manhattan).

Scabius.

Scabius.

Bugle.

Bugle.

Harebells.

Harebells.

Wild angelica

Wild angelica

Ragged robin.

Campion

Wild rose.

Wild rose.

Hardhead.

Hardhead or knapweed.

Please let me know if you have any additions or information!

The Crazy Nettle Lady

09 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by in Crich and the farms, How we're coming along, Humor/humour

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IMG_7509 nettles on the laneRecently a man and woman came down to the farmhouse to tell my cousin’s wife that a woman was on the farm lane pulling up nettles.  They’d seen her up there for the past several days.  The tone in their voices was, “Who is this crazy nettle lady?”

IMG_7921 a nettleThat would be, er, me.

I hate nettles.  With a passion.

Not only are they a blight upon the landscape, but anyone who has been stung by a nettle will avoid the experience in the future.  It is like being stuck by hundreds of hypodermic needles at the same time.  Here’s a look at an arm that has been stung:

Version 2

That arm is mine.  Despite wearing rubber gloves halfway up my forearms, I got stung.  Nettles are vicious, unless nicely tucked up out of the way where no one will be hurt.  Even cattle avoid them.

But the worst part of nettles is that where they grow, nothing else can, because they completely take over with their awful sting-y selves and their miles and miles of roots.

IMG_7506 nettle root

When I was a child, there was hardly a single nettle on the lane and on the farm because my grandfather pulled up every one he saw.  Now, without his singlemindedness, nettles have a field day (bad joke).

Here’s a look at some nettles near a stone shed:

IMG_7451farmyard pre nettles

And without nettles:

IMG_7454 farmyard post nettles

Better, yes?

Last summer, I rid the lane of over 6,500 nettles (and yes, I did count).  I found it very relaxing and satisfying. I don’t know of anyone else who shares my obsession passion, though please be in touch if you do!

Here’s one of the piles of nettles I amassed, with a six-year-old next to them to give a sense of scale.IMG_7988 nettles and 6-year-oldTo give nettles their due, they are useful to a number of butterflies and moths, and have medicinal value, and so are fine in moderation.  But when they take over, they squeeze out all the wildflowers, and they must be eradicated.

I hope to help the lane return to its former diversity so that it’s not mostly nettles, goose grass (also called sticky weed) and bracken.  Where I clear out the nettles, I’ll be scattering seeds for  more local wildflowers which will provide an ecosystem for more bees and insects.

I think I’ll be at it for years.

Where are you from?

22 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by in Crich and the farms, Family history, US vs UK

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Surname (world) Smith

I have just come across a really cool website that I want to tell you about.

It’s called “World Family Names,” at http://worldnames.publicprofiler.org and it shows the frequency of surnames in 26 countries around the world in relation to the overall population.

The countries are:  US, UK, Canada, Japan, India, Argentina, Australia, New Zealand, Austria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Germany, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Serbia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, and Switzerland.

The maps use data for approximately 300 million people in 26 countries of the world, representing a total population of 1 billion people in those countries.  There are 8 million unique surnames in this database.

Plug in your own surname, or surnames of family members and/or friends, and you will see where people with this surname live around the world, in greater or lesser numbers. (I tried first with names of friends, including Ngom (a Senegalese name), Kaplansky, Lofstrom, Quint, Kovacs, and Zimman, and got interesting results).

I also tried my last name, Smith, one of the commonest last names in the English-speaking world.

Not surprisingly, the bluest of the blue areas shows that there are many “Smith”s as a percentage of the overall population in the UK and also in Australia, where many people of British ancestry–including members of my own family–live.  The US and Canada weighs in after that, not surprising when you figure that both these countries were originally colonized by the British (along with, of course, the Native Americans, who were there first, and the Spaniards and the French.)

Then I checked to see where in the UK the greatest concentration of Smiths are:

Surname (UK) Smith

Gratifyingly, the greatest number of “Smith”s are right where I’d expect them to be, in the Midlands, which encompasses Derbyshire, my parents’ home county, and which would include members of my immediate family, a number who are farmers and so are not at all mobile and at least two generations ago tended to have very large families to help with all the work on the farm.

But now take a look at my mother’s family, surname Wallis:

Surname (world) Wallis

I know that there are relatively few Wallises in the world, save for a long-ago Wallis who was a famous mathematician, another who circumnavigated the globe, and one American charismatic Christian called Jim all of whom, as far as I know, are no relation to us.

I wanted to see where the Wallises lived in the UK, and if there was a clumping in Derbyshire, where my mother was born, but I found that there are relatively few Wallises in Derbyshire;  most of them are grouped on the east and south coasts of England.

Surname (UK) Wallis

The fact that there’s a clumping in the south and east of England makes sense, if you know that those Wallises (those who were not originally “Wallace”s which is a completely different name) are most likely to have been French people of the name “De Walys” who came over to England in the Norman Conquest in 1066, and who probably remained in the part of England closest to France.

Now, plug in your family surname(s), and see where it takes you!