Lately everything has seemed insurmountable, uninteresting and dull. I’ve been deeply unenthusiastic, wrestling with writing even the simplest piece, haven’t had a clue about what to add to the place for next year and I haven’t had anything falling into my mind to blog about…until I realised I should be blogging about not having anything falling into my mind to blog about.
Once in a distinctly random while I get as low as a iguana’s instep. Flat as the proverbial witch’s tit. Unable even to string three poor similies together. Not only does everything feel difficult, that the place is a waste of time/moneypit/misguided nonsense, I get furious with myself for feeling like it – so the tedium compounds.
Fear not, loyal reader, I am not about to unload tales of secret depression, childhood wrongings and how Morrissey wrote those songs just for me*…I’ve just been dischuffed for no good reason for a short while. And in the interests of keeping this blog at least partially warts n all, have some warts.
Out the other side. And very nice it is too. Although I feel uninspired still – as if mildly hungover – and it’s time I decided on what and how Otter Farm moves forwards next year. Courses, residential courses even, an outlet, back to growing the organic cut flowers, certainly more grinding peppers, herbs? And I’ve 50 Japanese plums arriving sometime. The forest garden will expand, this autumn for sure, but there’s a piece missing and I’m not sure what it might be. I think it should have money attached to it though – something that will produce relatively quickly and be reasonably useful in it’s level of return. Dream on.
Rather happily, some of my favourite fruit are around – Japanese wineberres especially. Deeper, tastier, winier than the raspberry, I can’t get enough of them. They’re also deeply sensible in that they only release their fruit from the papery calyx a day or two before they’re ripe – then traffic-light quickly through from green to yellow to orange and into deep red. I eat most on the way to and from the chickens, but once in a while I hold myself back and get some into the house. When I do, this is as good a use as I can find: cranachan.
A very good handful of rolled oats – toasted for a mo in a dry pan, a pot of double cream whisked, a generous dribble of honey and a nice glug of your second best whiskey, all stirred in with as many wineberries as you fancy. It is champion.
One of the reasons I think I dipped is that the place started to look crap. The book is about to come out and as review copies fly out people want to come and look. This is one of the worst times to come – it promises so much, the height of the season and all that, but the big show is over, the colour of most of the flowering stuff has past, and the morning and evening air has more than an edge of autumn about it. The phacelia has lost it’s zap. A few weeks ago this couple of acres was extraordinary. A chest-high sea of purple either side of the vineyard – it looked like lavender from a distance – bringing the most ridiculous waves of insects to the farm. Throw one of those ludicrous metre quadrats from school into the patch and you’ll have certainly enclosed 50 bees alone. The noise is astonishing, but only if you stop. I lose track of how many things are like that here. If you walk you are aware of the bees, but only when you stop does the level and solidity of the hum hit you. Same with the scent from the quince flowers in spring. Stillness is the only way to enjoy it.
But it’s gone, over, lost most of that purple, and the wind and rain of the last fortnight have turned it into a pale brown duvet dotted with blotches of purple here and there. Some flowers poke through regardless and the bees thank them for it, but a spectacle it ain’t. With most of the apricots, peaches and nectarines picked, the spectacle absent and me a miserable sod has meant I’ve been saying no to most visits (including one of the more famous chefs) and turning down some of the opportunities to talk and demo that have come my way. There’s no point in doing them when I feel like that, as it all feels like treacle.
It’s all wind and rain here at the moment, which means more than the usual dotting of windfalls in the apple orchard. Most are one of my favourites – the livid red, early Beauty of Bath. I resent each one that hits the grass and is set upon by wasps, slugs and flies. The ones I can rescue make juice, the ones invaded are picked first thing in the morning while the wasps are still snoozy and thrown to the grateful pigs.
The pecans can blow all they like though – there are no nuts yet and their looseness was made for the wind.
As I write I think I’m hitting on at least part of what it is that’s had me flat – we’ve been in that lull between the properly up and the properly down, that place that’s neither high summer nor autumn, good looking nor allowed to be wrapping up warm. There are grapes to come and some Szechuan pepper, but not until we’re well into October so it feels like the place is failing in some way. And then I come along and make it worse by losing my umph for driving the whole thing forward into next year – not ideal. I resolve to take a holiday in August next year, to let the rhythm of the farm have its way, to leave for once happy that there’s not so much I should be doing, and that it won’t be the end of the world to let it ride for a few days.
I have a new camera. Already it is making me very happy. I have a long while before I can wield it as I would like but I already I feel attached to it – it suits me. It is a full frame camera (here you go anoraks), the advantages of which are only apparent when you shift from one that isn’t to one that is. The world you see through it stops being confined or so much of a representation of the world, and you feel more like you are capturing what you see or want to see rather than trying to recreate it. It was deliciously expensive and (and this is vital) the shutter makes me feel like Carlos the Jackal using the perfect gun with the perfect silencer. Tight and slack at the same time, like when Dennis Taylor says ‘black’, snooker fans.
I am embarrassed to say that using it may well have been one of the things that has cheered me up, such is the trivial shallowness of my woefully Western dip. Sod it though, nice pic of the Japanese wineberries eh.
* although clearly he did. (Or did he?)
I feel a bit the same though my garden doesnt look too bad at present, I just cant work out how to move it forward next year to start achieving a look I love rather than like and also have time to manage. Good idea to go away in August as presumably June/July is quite a busy time for you.
Have you made a decision about the wine? Oh and I would be interested in any courses you decide to do. Prob see you at Malvern Autumn show
Your pictures do look quite different all of a sudden. Kind of widescreen.
Weird time of the year alright, doldrums. Seems a shame not to enjoy every drop of summer, but September has that purposeful, back to school feel, and I always quite like that.
May I have your permission to use ennui as an excuse to buy an iPAD & new Macbook ?
PG – no decision abt the wine but got two wineries to talk to this week abt them making it into wine for us. I'll let you know abt courses…
Lia – without getting too dull, the way the camera is made suits how I like to take pics, so I dont find Im feeling around so much for what Im after. And I know what you mean abt Sept…and it feels better to agree to it being autumn and enjoy the sun when it comes as a bonus rather than insist its still summer and lament the colder times.
SS – You may have an iPad…but you must wait for the MacBook until Ive decided whether Im getting one
Mmm never thought your Blog pictures could get any better, but there is a noticeable step up in quality. Things are almost edible off the screen. Great work and gutted to have not seen Otter Farm this summer, colours look amazing.
Oh, you had to go full frame didn't you? And now I'm supposed to just sit here whilst you churn out even more lovely pics? I don't think so bucko. I'm off to see my mortgage advisor right now to explain why I need some more money, because I feel a bit down and so need a FF camera. And another lens. And a holiday…
Lovely photos! Do I detect a guassian blur? Or is that wineberry just happy to see us?
Stu – tell you what, you come here for a week in the wind and rain and I'll swap you a week cycling (slowly) across America!
Gary – It's like Sex and the City round here, all this retail therapy.
Jane P – no gaussain blur or tweaking of any kind I'll have you know!
A while ago when my friend Emma introduced me to her new baby, I took a picture of him on my phone, sent it to my (then boyfriend) with the words IWOOT! (Give me a f*****g baby!)
Sorry, but I feel the same way about your new camera.
I know what you mean re. the lull…funny time of year…I keep saying to everyone…'Oh, but I wish you'd been here in June!'
Lovely post….SO look forward to your book
xLaetitia
Cor, you are a miserable sod, aren't you? Well, that makes two of us then, as I've been feeling much the same lately. It's good to know there's other people going thru the same thing, innit?
BTW happy snapping with your new camera!
Yolanda XX
I'm not sure I remember a Smiths lyric which covered the whole – "stuff outdoors isn't looking spec-tac-ular, better go and purchase a new cam-er-a". I think that Morrissey chap was missing a trick there.
Dawn – he did – was on the 12" version.. "I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I need a D3s now…"
I always have a garden dip in August. It all looks tired and floppy and the bindweed has won again and the garden has big holes in it and I just can't be arsed to do anything about any of it. I used to just drift away in August and not get back any sense of enthusiasm until I started putting bulbs in towards the end of September. I have got a bit better with this as I have got older (intimations of mortality, might be dead next year and so on) and my down period now lasts a couple of weeks rather than a couple of months. I am very tempted by wineberries. Will they like my fastdraining soil and will they mind a bit of wind? Being lazy here, could just go and find out for myself!
Good pictures.
Laetitia – I can only say that The Hunk would be quite a man if he could rival the pleasure that this camera gives….
Yolanda – I am indeed a miserable sod…glad Im not the only one
EM – Wineberries wont mind the wind but they might need a good wodge of compost thrown in to retin a little moisture. They are mighty fine
I have a theory that the real reason why you are turning down lectures and barring the door to all visitors is because you have grown a tail.*
Not just a small docked nubbin of a tail that can easily be hidden under a pair of baggy trousers but a proper swishing tail with a mind of its own.
Am I close?
Please don't let it depress you though. Think how many other species enjoy their tails. Happy skipping lambs. Ponderous (but politically sound) oxen. Lions pacing the veldt or yappy terriers. All happy with their tails.
Do they need spiffy new cameras with which to photograph their fruits in a David Hamilton/Bilitis style?
Do they need whisky and cholestrol laden puddings?
They do not.
All they need is the wind in their hair, a handful of simple food and their trusty tails. Also think you much better your fly swatting endeavours will be with your own built in swat.
*If I am wrong and you have not actually grown a tail then I apologise** for any offence I may have caused.
**You should also understand that any apology will probably be insincere.
Wow, James is truly nuts…
I have chronic depression, have had offically since I was 19 (that wasn't yesterday) so I know the feeling. But without the lows we don't fully appreciate the highs. You'll be okay, Autumn and Winter are always triggers for a low mood but just think Spring is always waiting in the wings and she conquers every time!!!
I may suggest the one I’ve coded.
https://github.com/sergiomartino/jQuery-LiveTweet