May 15th 2018


The sun was percolating through the trees this morning, a dappled shade falling on the Ministry, this was an idea which I’m not 100% sure it worked, but there they are the three musketeers in glorious technicolour.

It seems that the Tadpole Puddle Martyrs (i’ve used it again) or at least a very small handful of them are still somehow alive, possibly we underestimated the staying power of a puddle bound Tadpole, I think maybe they do bury them selves into the mud, when hard times come in the form of drought. They’ve been doing this for millennia I’m sure and so to see suddenly out of nowhere, this gloopy puddles appear and even stranger to support our favourite amphibian, or should I say potential amphibian of the month, I think I can probably speak for all of us when I say could be a frog or a toad, no idea. Could they become newts? That’d be pretty cool; will check out the internet. In the meantime heres a picture of the continual struggle of the more resourceful than we all realised Tadpole. I’d love to see the move from the puddle to the damp places in the woods, but you know I’ve been walking through these woods for over a decade and have not seen the legged tadpole stage yet, i’m beginning to think I probably never will although this year with the stringent recordings and BBC-like Natural History television quality photography, well maybe we just may be able to bring you the Frog, Toad or Newt.

But I doubt it.



The bluebells are still here but gradually the weeds are taking over, smothering everything, strangling all in their paths and making for an extreme fugue of greenery. The whole wood becomes really wild and out of control in the summer, the chances to off road are fewer and the deer have peace and quiet for the tourists. People can merrily pick up their dog shit in bags and sling it into the bushes, they won’t see it again, but when the winter comes and the leaves drop the trees will be festooned with black and blue dog bags and beige and off pink scented nappy bags. That is when the dog shit fairy comes to clean up.

Speaking of fairies, I came back from some business at my folks house yesterday; I’d driven to Boston, not the glamorous one, the small town, drug taking, wife swapping agricultural one in Lincolnshire. A Boston tea party here would have a different tilt. Its miles away form anywhere, its near Spalding and Sleaford (which puts the Sleaford Mods into a context) So I returned to my folks and was offered my supper, which I accepted, a M&S pork and veg with gravy and mash micro meal, Mum swears by them, I just think if you cover it with pepper, a touch of salt (remember its a ready meal so the salt count will be outrageous, allegedly so sue me M&S) then it makes the dish have some taste and after all they like them and they are easy to do, provided you can use the microwave. Dad put a half a jacket potato in for 7 seconds once, took it out plated it up, got some butter on it and ate it! He did mention when quizzed after that it was slightly hard. And almost completely raw I should Coco. Anyway, that was that. I drove home, tired and my son had cooked the signature dish of Frog in the Bog (seamlessly linked back to the Amphibian discussion I was having with you)


I’m sure I could sell some of these fucking photos to furniture companies who would like to create an air of calm and relaxation in their poxey showrooms, or in Ikea, in the market place section. i never will of course because I am lazy and have not the first clue as to how I would approach folk to sell my stuff, any ideas? I could do with a bit of extra cash.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again;  “Isn’t nature wonderful? Yeah, yeah, yeah”

So this is this for tonight, I made 2 types of pestos using wild leaves from the woods, not bad, but more of that later, who knows tomorrow I may even do a recipe of the week, and then I could feel pressure to repeat this every week as though my life isn’t tiring enough! You’ll have to wait and see play things.

Love to you all, tell your friends theres a silly Englishman trying to carve out a niche in the net.

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