Smoke gets in your eyes.

When making charcoal the thing to realise is that you will stink afterwards!

Yesterday as the tail of storm Jonas blew across the fields Miss C and I went into the wilderness to make charcoal. Last autumn we had spent a morning helping to cut the kindling, which was then left under plastic ready for the big burn. Twice it has been cancelled due to the rain but Monday my bee buddy did the first burn and then yesterday we joined him to empty the first lot

Sieve out the dust

And then reuse the bits that hadn’t cooked enough to start the next one

A few old bee hive frames to start the burn and then the really dry leftovers to get the fire hot.

As the fire built we gradually added the chopped wood

And built up the layers until the bin was full

It was blowing a gale across the fields behind us and at times we struggled to stand up straight. Away from the fire’s heat it was bitingly cold and Miss C alternated between moaning about being hungry, cold and bored one moment and exploring the hedgerows, making twig riding crops and climbing trees the next.

Eventually we put the lids on and waited for the smoke colour to change from burning to cooking the wood. If I’m honest I couldn’t see the change!!

This is it although apparently it’s not perfect as the wind is so strong.

Then we covered both with damp sand. Sealed the bottom to stop the draw and left them to it.

We ended the day with a long soak in a hot bubblebath. Warm and clean again.

Today we go back to empty the bins.
Roll on the summer barbeque.

A promise of things to come.

‘An hour in the garden puts life in perspective’ said some wise person. Today has been just one of those days.

A lone marigold.

Primroses to make me smile outside my front door.

Snowdrops and iris sheltered under the bushes.

Even the Laurel has fresh green flower buds much earlier than usual.

The daffodils are trying but quite honestly the chickens have no respect and amble straight through them daily.

Geraniums have gallantly sent up the odd flower all winter.

Even in this coldest wettest season the garden keeps reminding me of the good times to come.

Little treats and soggy feet.

I’ve been putting off a visit to the bees this last couple of weeks, because of the rain or other commitment. Today I  took my suit and gloves (in case they had blown\fallen over and might need lifting) and 3 blocks of fondant icing and went out first thing. Bearing in mind that 48 hours ago the temperature was -3, this morning it was a pleasant 6 degrees at 9 o’clock. I had to park at the top of the roadway as the field trap was churned up by tractor tracks and huge puddles. As I slid and squelched  through the mud I almost missed the 4 roe deer who crossed in front of me

By the time I realised they were a little bit distant but you get the idea!
The bees were looking dismal when I got to them

The hives are wet with water and layers of pigeon droppings laying on the roofs. In the garden it would never have got to this state but away from home I’m just not giving them the time I would like. The woodpecker cover took some removing as the strings were wet and slimy but each hive had eaten the fondant I had put on just before Christmas so I was pleased I had visited

The fondant is placed over the main hole in the crownboard and covered with a plastic food bag to stop it drying out. Two of the hives had finished it all but the third had eaten this rather tidy hole in the centre. During winter  fondant is the only thing to feed as it can be used instantly without the bees needing to work it in any way.
It’s always a worry they will start to die out at this time, as the queen returns to laying but the stock of stored honey runs out, but 2 hives definitely have bees so I am hopeful. Only time will tell and opening them to look now would not be wise. Patience is a virtue I have little of but on this occasion I just have to be.