I read Rick's commentary about seeing a Lancaster going overhead this weekend, and it stirred up a lot of feelings.

You see, it isn't just "a Lancaster" - it's *the* Lancaster.  There are only two airworthy Lanc.s left in the world, and one of them is a mailplane in Canada.  Here in Lincolnshire we have "The Pride of Lincoln" who flies with the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight (alongside Spitfires and a Hurricane amongst others), and "Just Jane" - the Lancaster who doesn't fly - she just taxi's at the East Kirkby Aviation Heritage Centre.

I didn't really get it when I moved to Lincolnshire.  The war was a long time before I was born, and I can't say that I have a particular fondness for machines of any kind, let alone airplanes.  But after a while, you come to recognise the earthy throb of the Lancaster, and the higher pitch of the Spitfires as they accompany her.  You realise that the sound and the history is indelibly linked to the earth and history of this place.

I remember Mum and Dad visiting, not long after we'd moved here, and taking them up Steep Hill in Lincoln.  Halfway up, just where there is a convenient bench to rest, we had stopped to catch our breath and I heard the throbbing that meant the Lanc. was coming.  What surprised Mum and Dad was the fact that everyone else in Uphill Lincoln recognised the same thing, and everyone stopped and turned towards the noise.  Men took off their hats, women held their breath and children waved.  As she went overhead, every head turned, and for one glorious moment a Lancaster and two Spitfires were framed against the backdrop of Lincoln Cathedral again.  It was 2002, but it could have been 1944 quite easily.

It's good to live in Bomber County.

Got that tricky song mastered.  Ha!  I met it face to face and wrestled it to the ground.  It still needs polishing and arranging, but the bones are there, and it's at a point where I know it has stuck, so is worth working on.

*That's* a relief!

I have a nice riff.

I have the beginnings of a melody.

I have a subject.

I have a hook.

I just wish I could figure out how the first line goes - everything I've tried sounds so clunky.  And this song wants to be written in order, as well - so I don't think jumping to the second verse is going to work *at all*.

It'll come, but I wish it would hurry up.

I think I shall try to surprise it out by listening to a Lilith Fair CD I was given today and doing some washing up.  Then I'll leap on it sideways and it won't be able to wriggle away!

Had a riot at the Farmer's Market playing with Frank in the Hammered Dulcimer/Harp duet format.  Lots of nice conversations with interested people, including a lovely israeli chap with whom I compared folk stories about stringing harps with hair.  Interesting comparisons... 

Musically, I am enjoying myself in this duet *hugely*.  I think it's because I'm getting the weird experience of playing the folk equivalent of rhythm guitar whilst Frank does all the clever tune bits.  It's nice to have a musical outlet where I'm not the focus, but get to enjoy all the fun of contributing to something cool and musical.  It's FUNFUNFUN!!!

I had mentioned to Frank that we should debate calling ourselves something separate from "Piepowder", as we really were a wholly different commodity to the costumed carol singing/seasonal songs thing.  When I arrived to pick her up this morning, she presented me with a list of deeply unsuitable names for a duo involving two women and a vast number of strings.

My particular favourite was "Busty Stringfield", about which I have been laughing intermittently for the last 6 hours :-D  Bearing in mind that two weeks ago she and Liam (UTMP) introduced Tim and I to the wonders of "Nuts in May", I was also rather tickled by the concept of "Honk and Finger"...

I should point out that "Piepowder" did a full year as "Baggsy Not Norma" before we thought better of the stupid name and came up with something vaguely sensible through a process somewhat akin to drawing teeth.  This has pretty much been the pattern for most of the bands I have been in (exceptions being the ones which already had names when I joined!).  I don't think I've ever managed to name a band easily or sensibly!  Oh well, looks like we might end up as "Busty Stringfield" for a year or three until we feel like pulling teeth again!

We got a new landlord at our village pub at the turn of the year. 

We're never entirely sure how a new landlord will turn out - some have been excellent, some have been dreadful and some have been... downright strange.  The current incumbent - Jim - is definitely falling into the "excellent" category: he's got guest Wychwood on tap, he's extended his license to allow children in parts of the pub, has started doing food again and puts on celebratory nights with a fixed menu and musical entertainment.

I played bagpipes (rather badly!) for his Burns' Night do, and noshed haggis with the best of them.  Last night was apparently a celebration of the Battle of Bunker's Hill.  Why?  Not a clue.  I'm not even sure I know what the Battle of Bunker's Hill was, or where it happened.  Don't bother posting Wikipedia references, I can google with the best of them.  The occasion wasn't really important, but the community was.

The food was simple but excellent (prawn cocktail, pork cutlets and chocolate tarte), with a definite retro feel to it.  (How long since I ate prawn cocktail?  Entirely too long, methinks...)  The musical entertainment was courtesy of a gentleman singing 1950s swing songs to backing tracks.   He was *excellent* :-)  He's a 1940's re-enactor, and had a wonderful feel for the music.  I enjoy 1940s/1950s swing anyway, and to hear it so excellently done (the "backing tracks" were in fact live recordings of a full orchestra!) was wonderful.

Partway through the evening I started to get an old itch.  The itch to be performing.  I enjoyed the music hugely, but realised that part of me wanted to be singing. 

Maybe I'll do a couple of dep. gigs with one of Tim's bands (low energy, very laid back), or maybe I'll find a way of singing "Fever" on a stage myself.  I don't know.  But I do want to be singing again.

This saturday sees myself and frankbean lurking at the Lincoln Farmer's Market  in a paid capacity as buskers.  We will be dulcimering and harping in a folk-stylee.  I'm looking forwards to that as well - the last rehearsal we did was WAY too much fun, and even to my critical ears sounded rather good.

Yay for musical re-engagement!

Feeling quite positive about my allotment at the moment.  I've got my root crops in (beetroot, carrot, parsnip, turnip and a bonus lot of spinach), got my greenhouse looking good (cardboard mulched and then compost on top) and got two gutters full of salad leaves, one of peas (start 'em off inside to foil the mousies!) and tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers and aubergines in and flourishing.  The chickens are working hard on clearing a space in the undergrowth for my "edible perennials" bed (asparagus, globe artichokes, herbs etc.) and giving lots of yummy eggs, too.

I've just started off my soft fruit patch by transplanting my long suffering redcurrant, and 9 raspberry canes.  Strawberries may follow tomorrow if the weather holds.

I've got 6 broad beans looking healthy and a veritable forest of runners waiting to go into the ground when the wind dies down a bit.

It still looks a bit ... scratty... but it's a good start and I'm quite chuffed with how it's going.  I've also made a phone call today to report a blocked sewer which has been reported to both the Parish Council and Environmental Health multiple times over the last 6 months.  Everybody is so busy blaming everyone else that nothing is getting done.  I've reported it to the sewerage hotline at the water authority and they've promised to have someone out to it within 12 hours.  Hurrah!

Tonight I may do some patchwork and then go to bed early with a good book and a cup of tea.

A good family friend (my elder brother has a "Skippy"  twin - it's funny and rather lovely seeing them together - the Skippy is a brilliant bloke who I am chuffed to have in my family, too!) introduced me to the Radio 2 "Janet and John" stories by giving me a CD.  Tim and I have been playing one or two a day to make them last.  We've both been reduced to hysterics several times :-)

It's been a year and a day since my dad passed away.  The sorrow doesn't lessen, but it does get more bearable.  I find that I am increasingly able to remember him and smile, rather than cry, which is - on the whole, I think - an improvement that he would approve of.

At the moment, life is simple but sweet...

Just updated The In-Debt Net with the good news about our house sale.  It seems like this is really going to happen - we've spoken with our buyers several times and they seem very genuine and excited about the process.

Unless we inherit a vast amount of money and can suddenly afford a smallholding somewhere, I sincerely hope that this is the last time we have to sell a house and move.  I'm really not a terribly good gypsy, and am looking forward to a bit of certainty for a change!

I have been enjoying "Kirstie's Homemade Home" quite a lot.  I know that there are some negative points:

• The fact that she is quite obviously a very privileged over-achiever who a lot of people find annoying.
• Her limited vocabulary - "I'm so EXCITED!!!"
• The fact that she never finishes a project, but leaves it with the artisan to finish off.

However, I really like the idea that a popular TV celebrity is pushing the idea that :

• Furnishing one's house entirely from IKEA is not necessarily a good thing.
• Learning new skills is fun and exciting.
• Surrounding ourselves with colour and pattern is cheery.
• Wonky and homemade isn't amateur - it's *charming*.
• Buying and patronising local craftsmen and craftswomen is a recipe for high quality and individuality.

I'm really enjoying it, and getting a lot of pleasure out of seeing her sample skills that  Tim and I have been practising for a while now:  spinning, knitting, sewing, blacksmithing, quilting (that's a new one for me - lots of fun, though!) etc. etc.  It's also lead me to think about holes in my skills set and how I could fill those.  I think that learning how to re-upholster would be very useful...

Ever since visiting Casa de Sutton last year, and seeing ladyat 's craft room, I have wanted to have a go at quilting.  I was given some fabric, a book and patterns for Christmas, and a pre-printed cushion kit to practice the actual quilting itself.  After finishing the shawl from the Planet Tharg (I had a big cone of navy 3 ply and I wasn't going to waste it, so I made it up!), I decided to start the practice panel last night.

I set it up on my embroidery lap frame, and tried to do the running stitch that the book I was given had recommended.  The fabric/wadding/fabric sandwich was just too thick to do a proper running stitch in anything *like* a small size.  I was looking at a top stitch size of between 1/2 and 1 inch long.  That doesn't seem right, does it?

I ended up doing it with a stab stitch, and it looks fine, but I'm concerned that the book expressly said NOT to stab stitch it.

Can any quilters out there enlighten me?  I've mounted it loosely on the embroidery frame, so there *is* some movement to it, but not enough to make the stitches small.  Are long/large stitches OK?  Is stab stitch OK?  I could make the top look OK by backstitching it, but the book definitely didn't mention backstitch, so I'm guessing that's right out.

Help!

I've been getting a little more stressed recently, and I realised that part of the problem is that I've been having is that I'm not blogging on The In Debt Net at the moment.  I sat down and had a serious think, and decided that I'd be much happier if I was writing more regularly.

So, I've updated The In Debt Net.

I feel much better now, too!

...to the Good Life.

Tim asked what job I would like him to do today.   "The pump!" I said excitedly.

Our back garden is very small, and about a third of it is given over to a block paved patio area.  When we had it paved, and the old crumbly concrete removed, we got a friend's son and his friend to do it as they were desperate for work.  Halfway through the job of removing the old concrete, I got a knock on my door, and one of the lads was standing there, wringing his woolly hat in his hands and looking rather distressed.

"You'd better come, Mrs Walker, " he said.  "We've found sumfink under der patio!".

Now, being Of A Certain Age, the phrase "sumfink under der patio" brings back memories of "Brookside" and Trevor Jordache's body.  You can safely assume that I was very worried when I went to see what it was.  Thankfully it was NOT a body, but was, instead, a deep, brick-lined well which had been badly covered up with a little bit of chicken wire and 2cm of crumbling concrete.  I was a little distressed by this, but very happy that I had a well.  Notbeing one to ignore a point of historical interest on my property, I got the lads to build a well top, and concrete in some mesh to stop small children from falling in.  Visiting children tend to drop pennies and pebbles in, and both Pippa and Ellie have been convinced that water nymphs live there.  It's kind of cool.  A few years of observation lead us to believe that it is fed by an underground spring as it *never* goes dry - even in prolonged droughts.  The only problem is that the water level is about 5 ft below ground level and there's a mesh over the top, so I can't really use it.

A couple of years ago, however, we happened to visit a garden centre which was selling *proper* hand-primed water pumps.  They weren't cheap, but we figured that you wouldn't have to use  that much water to make the money back via not using the metered source.  We bought one.  And then promptly forgot where we put it, and ran out of time in which to install it.  It was one of those jobs that always seemed best suited to being done another day.

But today was the day!  Tim has spent all day making a cover for the well (I've been increasingly worried about the ASBO chicks falling in through the mesh) and mounting the pump on it.  It turns out to be a little idiosyncratic - it needs priming with water before creating enough suction to pull more water - but it does the job and means that I can now pump fresh well water for watering my garden, washing my car and washing down my patio.

I am very happy.  If it all goes to heck in a handbasket, and water ever gets rationed or cut off, I shall be happily pumping from my well!  Yay!

I have a house full of destructive teenagers.  They keep breaking into the house, having a mad party and then refusing to leave.  Violence and intimidation is usually necessary to get them out.  And I find anti-social little 'leavings' all over the house after one of their illegal raves.

No, it's not Jared.  It's the bloody chickens.

I've got these bantams that I reared for the express purpose of being pets.  They broke out of their outside pen within a couple of days of being in it, and are thusly now free-range.  They have now decided to extend their hellraising territory by getting into the house in any way they can (usually by Ellie leaving the door open or by pole-vaulting over the gate I have at the back door to prevent their ingress).  Once inside they hotfoot it to the kitchen, where they flap around madly, peck at the speckles on the flooring and poo like a herd of Shetland ponies.  I am dreading the day they learn how to operate the CD player, as I am sure I will be treated to 100 dbs of Snoop Dog rapping about banties in da hood or some such thing.

*Sigh*

Getting them out usually involves running around the circular table in my kitchen for 20 minutes like a poultry version of "The Benny Hill Show", before being able to usher them back out of the back door.  Occasionally one decides to go upstairs, which complicates matters hugely.

I was just cleaning out Jared's room, when I discovered a slightly elderly apple.  Perfect treat for chickens, I thought.  I went downstairs to give it to them, and noticed two large poos on the back door mat.  THEY'VE BEEN AT IT AGAIN!!!  Whilst I was cleaning!!!!  Argh!!!!  It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't so incredibly funning, endearing and lovable. 

Bantams.  Can't live with 'em, too small to eat and enough character to populate a couple of dozen Disney films between them.

I currently have a Gogol Bordello CD on the player.  I am at a loss to describe this music, but I think it's all the things that I hoped "The Gypsy Kings" would be, but weren't.

Live, they are utterly consumed by the music they are making, and I *adore* that in musicians.  I'd rather have an imperfect but impassioned performance than something note-perfect and soulless.

Plus, they have a song called, "Start Wearing Purple (Wearing Purple)" - Lissa and Jess would approve of the lyrics, even if they might be somewhat disturbed by the actual music...

Gogol Bordello - perfect music for a sunny day.  I can close my eyes and imagine being kidnapped by handsome gypsies ...

I adore this performance of "Wanderlust King" on David Letterman.  One imagines that David Letterman was a little unprepared for what exploded in his studio :-D

And verily, the urge is upon me to make victorian dresses.  Well, it's better than getting a cold or 'flu or something.  A victorian urge is much better.

Sadly, however, I do not appear to have a good bodice pattern.  I *want* to make a skirt, blouse and jacket/bodice, to get a "walking suit" kind of an effect.  I have a nice burnt orange wool that I plan on using.  Anyone out there got anything that they might be prepared to lend me (in the pattern direction)?  I'm a very gentle pattern user and trace everything onto plastic, so no nasty cutting of other people's patterns.

I am now going to dispatch child #1 to bed (#2 already snozzing the snozz of the tiny) and reclaim the living room floor for the purposes of pattern tracing.  Yay!

I give up. I've been away on holiday and party time, and have tried valiantly to catch up. But I've failed. I've no real idea of anything that has happened, so it will have to stay unknown.

On the plus side, I had a lovely time away, and came back to lots of chicks - 15 bouncy bantam chicks, who appear to be turbo-charged. I suspect the chick-food might be laced with amphetamines, but they are absolutely *manic* and completely adorable.

We have named several of them :-) (Pickle is my favourite - the smallest and speediest...)

For LO! I live very close to the convention hotel for aXXIdental, and I am happy to offer an in-depth weather report based on such scientific things as (a) looking outside the front door, (b) locking up the chickens without a coat on and (c) measuring the whinge-levels from children who lost their school coats three months ago and didn't bother to tell us.

According to these indicators, it is indeed bleedin' chilly, but not dangerous to be out.

Most of the snow up here thawed last night, and I expect the thaw to continue slowly over the next couple of days. The Beeb forecasts "light snow showers", which have, on past evidence, been enough to make the top of the wheelie bin damp, but not much more.

The nights have been jolly clear, so some of the thaw refroze last night and we had some skiddy roads in the smaller villages this morning. However, the major thoroughfares (certainly all 'A' and 'B' roads) have been well-gritted and there is very little problem getting from one town to another.

For those who can't remember, or have never been there, the Grantham hotel is immediately off the A1 (which has been gritted to within an inch of it's life), and should pose absolutely no problems in terms of accessibility. Grantham itself is a busy town, and the sheer volume of traffic is ensuring that no ice or snow stays on the roads.

The best time to travel is some time after morning rush hour, I'd say, so that the grit has worked and the rush hour cars have cleared the slushy mess. As most people are likely to travel in the afternoon/evening, I'm sure that there won't be any problems.

If you want any travel advice, I'd recommend topping up your car screenwash as there will be a lot of salt thrown up off the roads, I reckon, but I don't think ice or snow will be an issue!

We appear to have just written something which involves a ukulele drum solo. As in "a drum solo played upon a ukulele". The rest of it is played upon the ukulele strings.

This is not necessarily a good thing.

It has been temporarily named "It's a Song".

Heaven help us.

In other news, Tim came up with a great riff on the guitar which we recorded into my beloved "MasterWriter" on the computer. After noting how great this riff was, and how much it needed some lyrics, I looked through my other song notes and recordings on MW and noted (much to my astonishment) that we had in fact written a whole song with it, and then forgotten the entire thing. Everything. Words, tune, chords and hook. We'd forgotten the whole shebang.

I think we had other things on our minds at the time.

But still - we can haz song!

... at Lincoln Archives at 10.30.

And tragically, they are now named the Wednesday History Group, which is a shame because I was getting a big kick out of the Archetype Cafe theme...

Lady Mac. turned out to be a lovely chap called Bob, and there were several people who would have enjoyed a morning at the LHS as well, I think.

In case I'm being a bit cryptic - I gave a talk today to a local history group (that's a history group that is local, rather than being about local history) on spinning through the ages. I took along my Great Wheel and my Ashford Traditional, the Luttrell Psalter DVD, hand spindles, fleece and lots of illustrations. I think everyone had a good time, and it was lovely to talk to people who were interested in the subject and not wandering away to the Hog Roast all the time (as usually happens at re-enactments). It's the first 'formal' talk that I've given, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I might try putting out the word to some local organisations to see if I can scare up some more contacts for this sort of thing - it's fun!

This evening I am piping in a haggis, and I may have convinced Tim to come and hit a drum in a vaguely rhythmic fashion at the same time. Pipes and drum! Yay!!!

Tomorrow is costuming and tunework with Frank, ready for more Piepowderish stuff later in the year.

Gosh - it's like working for a living. Only considerably more fun!

I appear to be turning largely vegetarian.

Oh my goodness.

It's not out of any sense of bleeding heart, soft-townie-eque pseudo-principles - after all, I still raise chickens and then pluck, gut and eat them. I have absolutely no intention of stopping doing that. There are also few pleasures to compare with the joy of a good bacon sandwich or sausage and mash.

But I've just cooked polenta in tomato, garlic and cheese sauce, ricotta and basil risotto and stir fried veggies (peppers, courgette, carrots and mushrooms). No meat anywhere! And when I think back, about 70% of my standard meals are actually veggie too.

Gosh.

Who'd a thunk?