Feeling Hot Hot Hot!

Finally the weather has heated up for summer in this part of the world...so now everyone should stop complaining, except they will now moan that it is too hot...oh I guess we wouldn't be British if we didn't constantly moan about the weather.

So, here is an update on how all the fruit and vegetables we've been growing are flourishing in the summer sunshine.

Courgettes - excellent and very tasty

Tomatoes - excellent and very tasty

Lettuce - excellent and very tasty

Summer squash - very good but not ready yet

Butternut squash - keeps trying to escape from the pot and is therefore failing a little. I blame Prince Charles for this one - they were Duchy Original seeds!

Bell peppers - tiny but loads of them! Still green at the moment, we think they're meant to redden, and hopefully get a bit bigger!

Chilli peppers - doing amazingly well considering the struggle the plant has had.

This is the story of the chilli pepper plant:

We went shopping to buy exciting things to grow in our little garden. We bought some seeds but we also bought some plants that had already begun to grow. One of these was a chilli pepper plant. We prepared the pots and soil and began to plant. It was all going well until I picked up the chilli pepper plant and dropped it. The soil that had packed it into the little pot in the shop went everywhere and the plant lay on the brick patio limp and sad. I tried to save it, all fingers and thumbs as I tried to plant it as quickly as possible. Next to the bell pepper plants it looked pathetic.

A couple of weeks later we had to remove both types of pepper plants as they couldn't cope with the British spring - who can? So we moved them inside to the study. The study is in the roof with a window at the front and the back, each with large windowsills. The room is the warmest in the house and catches sun the entire day (when it is shining of course). Therefore, it acts a little like a greenhouse. The bell pepper and squash plants loved this. I think the chilli did too but alas! it was being ravaged by aphids! My husband bought it back to life many times, attempting to kill the little monsters with washing up liquid or diluted methalated spirits, and cutting away the most diseased leaves and stems. Just before we went on holiday in June he bought in a ladybird larvae (they look like crazy little scorpion beast things!). Settling him down on the chilli he ran about and hungrily began to devour the aphids. My husband named him Larry.

When we came back from holiday there was no sign of Larry. We hope he gorged on aphids and then lived a full life as a beautiful ladybird, but we will never know. My mum was meant to check on him while we were away, but he had disappeared. Good job we didn't waste time looking for a 'Thank you for looking after our ladybird' gift... Anyway, the chilli plant now had peppers growing, and it was looking much healthier.

Finally, at the beginning of this week the first chilli had turned red, and now awaits use in a curry or bean chilli. Another chilli, although much smaller, had also turned red so we decided to try it. My husband had a taste first and declared it was just right, so I bit into it and oh...dear... Just as my husband declared that actually it did have a real kick my whole mouth and lips began to sing with fire! Wow! Those chillis are HOT! Several minutes and a large glass of milk I still hadn't recovered... And it's not like my lips weren't fat enough to begin with. Nevertheless, a grand ingredient to many a spicy dish those chillis shall make!

So thanks to Larry the Ladybird and indeed the chilli's own fiery, I mean fiesty, nature we now have some uber chillis to add to this hot hot hot summer!

Photo & picture courtesy of Google Images.

Dover's Western Heights

I've realised that it's been a jolly long time since I last blogged about a historical site, so here you go...

Yesterday we went to an exclusive English Heritage members' event at the Western Heights in Dover to see, amongst other things, the Drop Redoubt Fort and the Grand Shaft. The Western Heights is on the opposing hill to that of Dover Castle, one of our favourite places. Dover Castle is special to us, not only because we love its history spanning from the Romans to the Cold War, but because it was where we spent our first proper date day out after we'd told everyone who needed to know that we were a couple (this was a big deal and another story for another time). The secret war tunnels beneath the castle gave birth to my husband's fascination with hidden locations especially those that are underground. As this was essentially my fault - it had been my suggestion to go to Dover - I now have to be party to various adventures that take us to exciting and often scary places.

So this Sunday we went to the Western Heights. The Drop Redoubt fort is hidden high within the cliffs, built initially in the event of a Napoleonic invasion and then developed during the Victorian period. Now, I know (and indeed care) little for neither Georgian nor Victorian history. It makes great costume drama, and that's about it. Nevertheless there are occasions where my interest is stirred, and my find myself unwittingly drawn to a period that I generally make no secret of despising. This was one such occasion. We were given a tour by two eminent historians of the Western Heights Preservation Society (I say eminent because I think it would please them to be thought of as such). And it was fascinating. The tour was long - almost 4 hours - and involved lots of walking through woodland, up and down hills and steps, and occasionally crossing a road favoured by Dover's more manic drivers. It was also a gorgeous summer's day, and we were outside a lot more than we had anticipated so we both caught the sun a little, oops... I'll admit that I did switch off at times - my mind kept wandering to "Oh I should have packed sun cream...is my nose going red?," and "Why does Vodafone think I'm in France?" and "When do we next get to eat?" But for the majority of the time my attention was held, which is no mean feat.

The highlights of the tour were the Drop Redoubt and the Grand Shaft.

At the Redoubt we were met by two genuine historical artefacts - Napoleonic soldiers who had magically sprung back to life to welcome us, with just a little disdain, into their fort. They proceeded to tell us all about their regiment, uniforms, and weapons, and then fired their guns to scare the wits out of us all.

The Drop Redoubt

After that we were hurried up (more) steps to the very top of the fort to see the barracks, and to admire the views across Dover to the castle and across the Channel to France. And also to see a fake Roman monument (oh how I chuckled). After more fortness it was a trek down the hillside some way to the Grand Shaft...

The Grand Shaft is what my husband really wanted to see, and therefore what I wanted to see also. It is a triple staircase leading from Grand Shaft barracks, all now virtually disappeared, to the seafront below. In the event of an attack the soldiers could make their way down the different staircases rather than going up to the road and following that down instead. Much more swift I'm sure you'll agree. Our historians informed us that the staircases were designed and developed by a gentleman called Twiss , who completed them at £700 under budget. Wish we could employ his ilk at the council...

One set of stairs totalled 140, so that's 420 in absolute total - thank goodness you don't have to climb that many at once! There are a further 60-odd steps from where the barracks were down to the top entrance to the Shaft. By this time in the tour we were physically exhausted. We'd spent the day before traipsing around Brighton on a shopping trip, so by this point in the weekend we were well and truly ready to keel over. However, as we were quite bit younger than our fellow tourists we had to look sharp and descend the stairs like men! Well, going down is always easier than going up... When we got to the bottom my husband announced that he wished to have his photograph taken from the top. Because I love him I agreed. Half way up I thought I would die. But then a I was overcome by a strange dreamlike mist and found myself ascending as if by fairy wings... Actually I made that up, but I did, much to my amazement, make it the top much quicker than I expected and I was still able to breathe, huzzah!

View up the Great Shaft from the bottom

After that we broke off from the rest of the tour group as we'd been the only people foolish enough to travel by public transport so had no need to walk back to the car park. After the staircase I must have gotten a little lightheaded as I suddenly felt incredibly fit and began to lead us down a suspiciously overgrown footpath. Several scratches later we emerged at a dead-end. Only trees, nettles, and a tunnel... The tunnel was blocked off but just seeing it was enough to please my husband, and it was with a big grin on his face that he led us back through the brambles to the main bridleway and we somehow made it back to the station with a few minutes to spare for our train home.

We returned home with aching limbs and every muscle feeling extraordinarily toned (if only it worked like that), and decided to round off our day with Chinese takeaway and a double-bill of Lost. We slept well.

It was a good day out. The historians who led the tour did really well; they made Napeoleonic and Victorian military history interesting as they placed the defensive history of the Western Heights in context. The soldiers in costume were a great touch. My husband has found his passion for the secrets of underground Dover even more fuelled than before *loving sigh* For now he'll just have to enjoy our photos, and pore over the chapter 'The Secret State' in Underground England by Stephen Smith which he was given a couple of Christmases ago.

No plans for our next historical adventure yet, but there will be one before too long, I'm sure!

Photos my own.

Lightning Strikes

I wrote a blog entry a couple of years ago on my fear of thunder and lightning storms. Since then I've been fortunate enough to only experience one or two such storms. However, I got to experience the biggest one we've had in a while a couple of weeks ago. It was actually three storms, one after the other.

I am worse with storms at night, but during the day isn't great either. These were during the day when I was at work. I was surrounded by other people, which helps to an extent. I also work in the tallest building in town on top of the highest hill in town... It has lightning conductors, but so what!? Even my colleagues that do not normally delight in the same phobia as I do were scared by these storms.

From my desk I have a spectacular view across the Ouse Valley with the South Downs looming either side, Kingston Ridge to the right and Firle Beacon to the left. This view gets me through my working day - I'm reminded of the beauty of my county and the glory of God whenever I look at it, whether it rains or shines, when it is steeped in fog or when the skies are clearest blue.

So watching a storm play out across this view was one of the most amazing things I've experienced. The first storm rolled in and the thunder rumbled menacingly, growing louder and louder. We were aware of lightning, occasionally seeing a fork in the distance when we looked up from work. The second storm followed much the same. Then the third storm came crashing in and now I was completely distracted. The lightning forked out over the valley, reaching for the Downs on either side. It was stunning. It was terrifying. It was beautiful. I will always be afraid of thunder storms, but I am so glad I got to appreciate one in this way, to witness the beauty and the terror combined whilst in relative safety. I am now facing the challenge of putting what I saw into words - I want to try with poetry, which is most certainly not my strongest form of writing, but that awe-inspiring sight keeps conjuring up images, words, and feelings in my brain that must be put on paper...

I should probably admit that I was distracted from work for a good hour - a combination of fear and excitement, and then ultimate distraction with the light show. But, I also kept checking out this awesome website where you can track a storm's progression in most of the UK and northern France. It's a storm chaser's dream. And, if you're like me, brontophobia does turn you into a little (desk-based) storm chaser, because there's nothing like scaring yourself that you're phobia is on it's way...

Blue Remembered Hills

Just over a week ago we came back from a holiday in Shropshire to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. We ended up there sort of by mistake. We knew we wanted to go away for our first anniversary, and we both had fond memories of childhood holidays in Dorset so thought we would go there. However, by the time we came round to booking a cottage most places weren't available for the week we wanted. A friend of ours had just come back from a holiday in the Forest of Dean and highly recommended it, so we took our search to Herefordshire. Little did we realise that the website we chose was for cottages in Herefordshire and surrounding counties, and it was about a week before we went away that we realised we would actually be staying in Shropshire. It didn't matter, it was still somewhere new for us to adventure and a chance to escape from everything.

We didn't know what to expect but when we arrived we were very pleased with our choice. Shropshire is an incredibly beautiful county. It is so lush and green, very hilly, and very rural. Our cottage was on the edge of a farm in a tiny hamlet. We couldn't have picked a more tranquil location.

Eager to explore (because that's how we rest) we very quickly discovered there was a lot to see in Shropshire - an abundance of National Trust and English Heritage properties around, plenty of walks, and pretty towns. We strayed into the neighbouring county of Worcestershire most days as we were close to the border, also very lovely and green. We went on many adventures, including cycling in the Wyre Forest which proved just how unfit we both are and that we need to invest in bikes to work on that! We explored some historical sites - Stokesay Castle, Ludlow Castle, Wroxeter Roman City, Witley Court, Kinver Edge Rock Houses, the Severn Valley Steam Railway, Worcester Cathedral, and the famous Iron Bridge and Tar Tunnel (there's lots to see up at Ironbridge near Telford, but we were only there for a flying visit!). We ate out at some lovely pubs or we stayed in and cooked for each other, winding down with puzzle books and games of Carcassonne. We ate cream teas or cake most days. We went exploring on random drives and walks. We did even stray into Herefordshire for one day - to see Berrington Hall, which has excellent Below Stairs tours - learning about the lives of the servants is so much more interesting than visiting just another posh stately home - highly recommend this one for something a bit different by the National Trust! All in all it was a relaxing holiday, surrounded every way we looked by beautiful countryside. A chance to be away from it all, exploring somewhere new, just the two of us.

Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far county blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

A E Housman, from A Shropshire Lad

Photos my own.