Saturday, 10 March 2012

Half a Crown

Saturday 10th March 2012
Clear sky and just a hint of frost.
A beautiful Spring day was to follow
Gerald's party piece.
The First Cut
The grass never really stopped growing this winter and, like my hair at the moment, was in need of a bit of a trim. Even the geese have been spurning it - they prefer to graze on a shorter sward.
The mower had been on charge for 3 days, I filled it with petrol and ... well, not much happened. The lights worked though, so the battery was charged. For 5 minutes I tried to start it, occasionally jiggling a wire or poking at a connection, tapping some engine part, all in the hope of striking lucky and persuading the machine to start. Then, out of the blue, the engine chugged into action, billowing a plume of smoke from the front in protest at being awakened from its winter slumber. All systems go!

Sea Bass for Pork
There is something very special about the first cut of the year. Sitting aboard the mower imbibing the smell of freshly cut grass. Round and round the goose paddock I rode, in ever decreasing circles, until I looked up to see an old(ish) man madly waving his arms in the air. Turns out I'd been past him twice and he couldn't think of any other way to attract my attention. A customer for pork, and a very interesting chap too. 45 minutes later I bade him farewell, clutching onto a shoulder of pork which I had advised him to slow roast. In that time we'd discussed trees, tree grants, bamboos, Jerusalem Artichokes, the Norfolk coast, solar panels, fishing and a good many other things!
Most importantly, there is a distinct possibility that come the autumn I will be swapping some of my pork for fresh fish netted in The Wash. This sort of arrangement is perfect.

Half a Crown

While digging a new veg bed this afternoon, I unearthed this half crown coin. It's 10 years older than me. I'm not sure who is keeping better, but at least I haven't been buried under the soil for most of my life!
I checked on the internet and it's worth about nothing! Just curiosity. I wonder how much its real value was to the person who lost it all those years ago.

A Splash of Colour
Spalding is famous for its bulbs, though these days only a few fields burst with colour like this every year. As they're being grown for their bulbs, these daffodils are allowed to flower in the field, a sight which I look forward to from year to year, and a sure sign of lengthening days, rising temperatures and the season of growth. The sunshine today seduced the last of the buds into opening its petals and the whole field looked as if it had captured the sun itself.

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