Oily Tears and Aeroplanes

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This has been a weird week, you read this now, and find me 8 months pregnant I’m constantly aware that I’m nowhere near in the head space that I need to be and this baby I waddle around with in front of me is soon going to be here, I still have to remind myself I’m pregnant and not just knackered and out of breath from tipi making and packing the house up! The spare room is empty (or at least keeps being emptied) and I can hope soon to make it a nice little peaceful nest, away from boxes and packing tape and bits of stickle brick (which, incidentally hurt a lot more than lego bricks do at 2am when you have got up and stumbled your way down the hallway for the 7th time that hour to go for a wee) once the room is sorted out I will feel a little more relaxed about things, right now I feel more like a frantic flapping bumbling bird knocking the nest over and stamping all over the little twigs I’ve found while trying to gather them back up again than an elegant stork who calmly stands in meditation….

I suppose moving country with a host of animals, a business, a new baby and a child, with absolutely no help nearby whatsoever was never going to be something we could do calmly and elegantly – this is nesting on speed… Not enough for me to feel the need to clean out all of the cupboards and wash the curtains, for the last month we have been living in a house with almost no furniture, curtains removed from all but the bedrooms and (as of today) no lampshades, rugs or cushions anywhere to be seen. The living room is now the packing room, a mountain of things to take with us piling high up against a wall on one side of the room and on the other side of the room all of the camping stuff for the last few rentals we have to do balances precariously, casting shadows over the tortoises who sit quietly in their sun box, seemingly unaware of their impending move and almost taunting us with their ‘ready built home on a back’. The packing is slowly getting there, boxes are being filled, and lots and lots of stuff is being got rid of, and it feels so good, as a bit of a hoarder I thought I’d find it impossibly hard to see things leave, but it’s now become an obsession, the less stuff I see in each room the better, cardboard is the colour of this spring season. Originally we had planned a (slightly) madcap drive across England, Spain and Portugal with the truck, a huge old heavy wooden horse trailer and all of our belongings… however fate had other ideas when she decided to blow our engine up on the truck 4 days ago when we were driving home from a rare day out to the Eden project, luckily for us (and everyone else on the road that day) we managed to pull off the dual carriage way just as the burning hot oil started spouting from the gap in the bonnet hinge, the strong smell and the smoke coming through the air vents was also a key sign something was wrong, no sooner had I opened my mouth and looked in Andy’s direction did we hear an ENORMOUS¬†clattering sound, the engine revved higher and higher, she ate her oil and that was it…the soul of the old girl flew upwards into the sky surrounded by thick black plumes… out we leapt, serenaded by people screaming from their car windows ‘get out of the car!! NOW!’ As we looked on from a safe(ish) distance, a black river pouring down the road behind her, it was clear this was not a job that Ruan our (overworked) mechanic would be bodging for us…It was with sadness that we advertised her on eBay and sold her for ¬£700 two days later, leaving us with a trailer, a lot of belongings and no vehicle, in a village, with no shop, one bus a day, a child, and us heavily pregnant…

After a day of scratching heads and scribbling numbers, exhausting every other idea we succumbed to the direction we were clearly being now pushed, cancelled our ferry ticket and booked a lovely man called Bill to drive to us on the morning we had originally planned to leave the UK, load up his van with our life, take the dogs, drive off and hopefully take the 3.45 Plymouth to Santander and meet us at the farm in Portugal, meanwhile we will fly over (and spend some of the flight trying to remember how in the hell to find the piece of land we last stood upon 10 months previously)…… In the meantime on goes the search for a cheap (under ¬£300) car to see us through the next couple of months… It’s fair to say we expected plans not to always go to plan, can’t say we expected this though! As is often the way, its all worked out for the better, and my recurring nightmare of us sitting on the side of a road waiting for a Spanish pick up truck in 40 degree heat to drag a wooden horse trailer with a broken axle and three tonnes of ‘stuff’ in the back away for us can be forgotten… hopefully leaving us a far less stressful journey to our new home and the joy of looking through the second hand car market of Portugal when we arrive –

Can’t say much right now, but there are many other plans afoot, we will keep you updated on them as frequently as possible! 12 weeks to go!!!!!!!

Our website is in a half finished state but new info being added all of the time, needless to say it hasn’t been read through and check for mistakes as yet, but feel free to hop over and have a look, you’ll see our plans for the space there under the visions tab : http://www.enchantedacres.co.uk

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Slug And Harmony

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This is the second picking from the strawberry plants in the last week!! I only have 6 of them but they’re old and the girls always produce us so many strawberries!! There are at least this many again waiting to be ripe. No nets, no killing of slugs or snails and better yet, no standing outside at midnight with a torch picking off pests.

I realised last night things are even more harmonious that I knew, as I went out at 10pm to bring Puck and Torsie the tortoises inside I watched about 30 slugs all heading over the wooden wall to the tortoise garden, I love where the tortoise’s are located because its right next to the veg patch so I get to watch them often and can also throw all the bits that are no good for us over for them to eat, what the torts don’t eat by the time they lazily trundle to their outside bedroom (at around 5pm) the slugs come and eat later, along with a couple of sacrifice favourites I grow for the slugs near the tort garden this keeps them happy and keeps them off the veggies…! No effort required!…everybody gets their fill and everybody gets to LIVE alongside each other taking whatever they need.

In other news we are super busy with work at the moment, the horse trailer is almost finished and Findus the pony is being picked up on Tuesday! It’s all go go go at tipi HQ. more to follow on Monday… Xxx