A swim on the wild side!

This week, our guest blogger is my very own youngest daughter – Emily! She has been home from university for a few weeks before going away for six months on a work placement. While here, she was able to spend some time with old school friends and head off to the beach… where she had an interesting encounter!

“The sun put in a rare appearance, so I decided to head down to Babbacombe beach and enjoy a dip in the sea with some friends. As always, the British sea proved to be a lot colder than we remembered, but we took the plunge and swam out towards the five-knot-buoy. 

Suddenly, we spotted a smooth, dark shape gliding just below the water surface. We turned and a head popped up, watching us with large, dark eyes. We were so excited, it’s so rare to see a seal in the wild, let alone swim with one!

The large grey seal known as “Sammy” is a regular visitor at Babbacombe, coming almost daily to coax the locals into giving him the fish they catch off the quayside. Now that’s what I call smart – let the humans do the hard work, so you don’t have to! Recently featured in the local paper, Sammy worried locals a few weeks ago when he swam up to the quay with a hook in his side, although he left before the RSPCA had arrived. We can only presume he was protected by his thick hide. 

After a while we got out of the water to fetch our cameras and ran to the quayside where the seal was cruising up and down waiting for fish. He seemed hugely tame and was content to come within an arm’s length of us, even gently taking a fish straight from a fisherman’s hand! It was just fascinating to watch such a large creature (it looked to be about one and a half metres long and at least half a metre wide) move so gracefully in the water!

It had to be the best trip to the beach ever, and we plan to head back tonight and see if he’s still there!”

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A wonderful walk right on my doorstep!

Morwenstow on the north coast.I know I do tend to go on about how lovely Devon is… but it just is! This week, I thought I’d ramble (excuse the pun!) on about the South West Coast Path.

Not only is Devon blessed with lovely rolling countryside and dramatic moorland, it also has two stunning coastlines to the north and south. The north is rugged and exposed, while the south is softer with more sheltered bays. Devon is the chunky ‘thigh’ of the south west ‘leg’ of England that delicately dips its toe out to the far south west and the Atlantic ocean.

The South West Coast Path National Trail goes right round this leg taking in Devon and Cornwall and more – starting in the north, at Minehead in Somerset and going on for 630 miles – to Poole in Dorset in the south

It is regarded as one of the top walks to be found anywhere in the world. The heritage, wildlife, geology and scenery along the way are stunning and every day spent walking it brings new experiences.

The lovely harbour town of Dartmouth in south Devon.You don’t have to be super fit, and you obviously don’t have to do all of it! Some areas, especially in Cornwall, are very steep and challenging (and very beautiful) but lots of other sections are gentle and make lovely seaside strolls.

Some people spend years walking small sections of it, ticking off the miles until they’ve done the whole thing. Others – heaven help them – tackle the whole thing in a couple of months, often for charity.

There’s a rather nifty scheme that lets you stay in B&Bs, while some obliging people will drive your bags on ahead of you so that, when you arrived footsore after a coastal canter, your bubble bath and slippers are ready and waiting for you.

There’s a very good website: www.southwestcoastpath.com which shows you everything you need from amazing photos that will inspire you, to walks that are interesting for children, or include pubs on the route (count me in!).

The coastal path in south Cornwall.

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Chickens and eggs!

As the weather was vaguely summery on Sunday, Richard, Welly and I decided to trot up onto Dartmoor to see my Hen Pal.

It turned into a beautiful sunny evening and we had a good nose around the veg patch, admired the living willow ‘fedge’ (a cross between and fence and a hedge!) and then went to say ‘hi’ to the chickens.

Welly finds anything even vaguely feathery very, very exciting and proceeded to do quite a bit of barking and rushing about. The hens, very wisely, ignored him, secure in the knowledge he was the other side of their fence.

The chicken I am holding (rather gingerly!) is, we think, a Barnevelder, affectionately known as ‘The Dinosaur Bird’, so named by a visiting godchild! She does have a rather fierce pre-historic look to her, but was very friendly and tolerated me holding her in a somewhat amateur way.

Chickens in the garden are very soothing. Their ‘pock pock’ sounds and bustling nature are somehow very relaxing. But, as my Hen Pal says, spend half an hour watching a flock of hens and you’ll understand all about the terms ‘henpecked’ and ‘pecking order’. They have a strict hierarchy and can be quite vicious to each other, especially to the poor little soul who’s bottom of the pecking order. Nature red in tooth and claw…

The star of the show really has to be the Cream Legbar who lays the beautiful blue eggs. She has a wonderful floppy comb and looks like someone on her way to Ascot with a ridiculous hat! She’s rather independent though so getting her to pose with me for a photo wasn’t an option sadly, but we’ve got one of her on her own anyway.

Opening the nest box is always very exciting and I wasn’t disappointed – four eggs for that day and there was even a blue one! They are, of course, the most delicious eggs and the yolks a beautiful deep yellow colour.

The drive up on to Dartmoor is always a lovely one and it was nice to get out and see it in the sunshine, we’ve had so little of that in June. Here’s hoping that July is rather better!

 

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Hello to the new puppy!

Seems I am still a long way away from having any grandchildren (well that suits me – I am far too young to be a granny?!) but I do have the most beautiful little Grand-dog… here he is just after he arrived at my daughter’s home over the Jubilee weekend.

His name is Mouse… which is probably taken from the fact that he was definitely the smallest in the litter and even now only weighs about half that of his brothers and sisters. He was part of an enormous litter – 11 puppies in total – 9 girls and 2 boys!

There is also a dog named Mouse in the series of Harry Dresden books by Jim Butcher which Richard has just been reading – but we are putting that down to complete co-incidence!

We went to meet Mouse on the Sunday of the Jubilee weekend and he was adorable. We took Welly with us – all part of the socialisation programme! Mouse thought Welly was an excellent toy, bit his ears, his bottom and would have had a try for his nose just to make him play. However Welly, elder statesman that he is at 10, looked at the puppy much as an elderly bachelor would regard a newborn baby, looks of scorn and slight fear!

Well, we adored him and look forward to seeing him grow into a beautiful Golden Retriever just like his mother – a wonderful family dog – we can’t wait to see him again!

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