7 Scones, 1 Jay and an IKEA coffee table

This has been, rather pleasantly, quite a busy morning. First off, I baked some home made scones in the AGA for breakfast. Next, I managed to photograph a Jay which had cleverly eluded my camera for the past week. Delighted with such positive results I then ably rounded up Nigel and, together, we assembled an IKEA coffee table destined for ‘The Great Hall’.

It’s definitely been ‘ a bird morning’ as I managed to photograph not just the Jay, but a Nuthatch too. I’m currently ‘shooting’ with my Canon 70-200mm lens attached to my Canon 600D (rather than the Canon 5D Mark II body) as I gain about 30% more ‘telephoto’ power. From having delighted in taking macro photos when living in Chateauneuf-de-Grasse, I’m now developing a fondness for telephoto work – simply because I wouldn’t be able to capture most of the wildlife in our garden otherwise.

This morning I also received my latest Wildlife Trust magazine and read an interesting article entitled ‘Why London’s Gardens Matter‘. Did you know that there are 3.8 million gardens in London? I didn’t either. The worrying bit (for me) is that between 1998 and 2008, 2,600 ha were converted to hard surfaces and around 500 garden trees a year are removed. At this current rate of loss, all of London’s garden greenery will be gone by 2068. And if it’s happening in London – what about elsewhere in the UK or in France for that matter? Gorgeous birds like the Jay and other beautiful creatures will be lost to us and our descendants forever.

A Fine Soft Day

We have arrived after a long, two day drive through France to reach England and, more especially, Belaugh. I am delighted to be back here and spent a happy day yesterday, camera in hand, to photograph some of our visitors and our home – which now grace the banner heading of my blog. I’ve learnt to remain extremely still and wait – which is how I caught the photo of a very curious baby bunny who just couldn’t resist taking a peek at us.

Before leaving Peymeinade, we packed my computer, a couple of my monitors and one of my desks so that I could start setting up part of my office and catch up on some unfinished work once I was here. But first a couple of days off to unwind and mooch around Wroxham, the capital of the Norfolk Broads, and where most of the shopping is dominated by Roys (with the neat title of The World’s Largest Village Store).

A friend of mine has asked where the word Belaugh comes from. After checking on-line, it seems that it may be ‘enclosure where the dead are cremated’ (crikey – I do hope not!) or ‘a glade or clearing’ (which I’m personally opting for…).

This Saturday morning started off, as the Irish lovingly call it, “a fine soft day” – one I had not experienced for over 10 years: it just doesn’t drizzle in the South of France. But now, as I sit here typing, the evening sun has come out and there’s a blackbird singing. It is quite delightful and charming. And very English. And home.

Two Weddings and A Mole

Having just settled into my new home and having arranged my furniture, ornaments and picture frames as best I could, Nigel and I spent the weekend filming two weddings, one held in Whittlebury Park, just next to Silverstone, the other at the Mercure Parkside Hotel in Buckinghamshire. You can read more about these weddings by clicking on my business website, Alice Barker Weddings.

Rather than driving the two and a half hours back to Belaugh, we booked in for three nights at the DeVere Hotel in Denham Grove, Uxbridge. We’ve just recently discovered these rather nice hotels and try whenever possible to book one close to our filming if the drive back home would be too long. Scandinavian in style and feel, the hotel came with pool, sauna and jacuzzi although I nearly died at the price they charged for a glass of wine (£6.70).

Returned home and flopped onto the settees in the garden room. Just about to nod off when there was a knock at the door. It was David, the Mole Man. He’d been setting traps while we were away and popped over to see if he’d caught anything. He had and proudly presented me with a dead mole. I think moles are cute but understand they can be somewhat of a blight for lawns. I’m going to have to pluck up the courage to tell him I’m happy having mole hills around Belaugh – they may look unsightly but the birds find the thrown up soil a treasure trove.

Forty Winks and a Family of Swans

It’s Wednesday afternoon and I’m really, really tired. Packing boxes, bubble wrap and tissue paper are heaped in a corner of the breakfast room. It feels like an extended Christmas day as I’ve been busy since Monday unpacking everything. Strange as it may seem, I have decided to stand in each room and wait to see what it tells me. Does it want to have a French style or English one?

Our two Chesterfields have pride of place in what has been renamed ‘The Great Hall’. Although the room is vast it is nonetheless quite cosy, due in part to its magnificent stone fireplace, rugs and bookcases. This wants to remain very English. On the other hand the dining room was most happy to have a French style to it – so I happily obliged. But of all the rooms, I must admit to a special fondness for the open plan room that combines the kitchen, breakfast and garden room. It is bright and airy with two of the most comfy settees in the world and just perfect to sit in (read slouch) while looking out over our garden.

Which is what I did and ended up having forty winks (I did say they were comfy . . .). Upon waking, my sleepy eyes caught the movement of something white moving at the bottom of the garden. Oh Gawd, I thought, people. Just my luck. I sat up with a jolt – had they seen me flopped out on the settee I wondered? More movement at the end of the garden as a brood of fluffy cygnets, toddling one behind the other followed by either mum or dad, headed off to the River Bure that flows at the bottom of our land. I laughed and delight bubbled up in me. We have Swans!

Roughly two hours later the swans returned. Again in single file with one parent Mute swan in front, one at the rear and cygnets in between them. What a magical sight and a wonderful present for me – still sad about leaving France but now boosted by their presence and other wildlife to see – and photograph. Which reminds me – I better start unpacking my photographic gear!