MORROWS WORLD
MORROWS WORLD
IT has actually worked. My new kitchen is now a fly-free zone, thanks to these strange plastic bags hanging from the garden trees. In truth, it is all thanks to
farmers weekly as it was here that I first aired my embarrassing fly problem and as a result was put in touch with these wonderful smelly bags of gunge which seem to be so attractive to flies.
I am absolutely delighted, to an extent that Johnston thinks is totally over the top, but the flies never bothered him quite as much as they did me. In fact he always said he found me flapping about with a newspaper and spraying deadly chemicals more annoying than any amount of flies. But I am over the moon – of all the wonders of my new kitchen, including the glass fronted cupboards and the swivel bin, the lack of flies makes me most pleased.
The girls are all home from their various holidays – Jenny from three weeks in southern France, Amy from five weeks in the USA and Helen from three days in Ballycastle. It definitely looks as if Helen got the short straw here, and to be fair it was supposed to be six days, but after a nasty fall from a climbing frame, which resulted in her being stretchered off in an ambulance (wearing a full body brace) to the nearest hospital, she decided to come home early. She was only bruised, Im glad to say, but it certainly brings home how easily accidents can happen.
I was taking no chances last Sunday of anything nasty happening to me when I went out to bring the cows in for the morning milking. Johnston is scraping the barrel for help when Im out there, but none the less, I like to pull my weight and even though I knew there were two bulls in the field I felt I had to face my fears and get the job done. Well, Im convinced one of the bulls spotted me instantly and watched me the whole time. I wasnt convinced that he wasnt after blood. Anyway, Im still alive and kicking and the cows were brought in, but I must confess I was on the other side of a double fenced hedge on at least two occasions when my nerve totally deserted me – oh yes and I did hide behind the wheel of the John Deere until he was safely past and I dashed out to close the door of the collecting pen. I wont volunteer for that job again.
I am a great one for signs. Everything around the yard of our open farm has a story attached, every animal has to have a name and every door must have a notice – even if it is "Farmers only please". The one place that is sadly lacking any information is our house. The farmhouse is right in the middle of the yard and even though we have recently built a wee garden complete with wall, we cant keep visitors out. Literally, as I have been
typing this article a lady has walked in my front door looking for the toilets! Does my newly painted and
renovated house look like a toilet. Yesterday, I was in the front office when I heard footsteps in the hall (new beech floor) to find another woman with a basket of raspberries wandering around. "You keep the place lovely," she kindly told me and then asked if I made much money. "Not enough money to put up with folk dandering in through our kitchen," was Johnstons response – but not in front of the customer, of course. Actually, I was quite pleased at her comments about my housekeeping – she could never had said that last year with all those flies about.