May onwards – dirty work

Hanging out with the Mudpack had been too difficult prior to my break as they always met on a Tuesday. But now I had my weekdays as free as my weekends. It was easy to get to as well, a lift from Preston train station to wherever the planned conservation work was. There were about four weekly regulars, three retired men and a younger woman. Then there were the semi-regulars, on my four occasions I might see them twice. Then there were the one-offs, although they might well have gone back another time when I wasn’t there. We travelled to Longworth Clough, near Bolton, for Himalayan Balsam ‘bashing’ and dry stone walling. Two conservation activities I’d heard about but never tried before. Himalayan Balsam was an incredibly common and invasive plant which, unfortunately, was taking over the ground so preventing other plants from growing there. This reduction in diversity was detrimental for fauna as well as flora too as it meant less variety of plantlife for animals to eat. Surprisingly, it was quite easy to pull the balsam from its roots but we had to remember to keep it off the ground so it couldn’t spread. Dry stone walling was interesting although it could also be frustrating, as we found when it was realised a former attempt had left a section rather wonky, and likely to collapse. So we had to try to gather more stones and put them in the right places. I found, like with many things, there is a certain technique to dry stone walling. And teamwork is pretty key too. From planting a hawthorn hedge in a meadow to lopping back overgrown branches, my knowledge of nature has increased as has my muscles!

May onwards – Paws forward

My assumptions that all dogs were ready and eager for a walk (based on my own experiences with canines) were dashed after I encountered the lovely residents of Animal Care. Staffie-cross Cleo was an overweight old lady who waddled along at her own pace, plump jack russell Della wanted to be bribed to walk an extra five steps (no delicious titbits for you, Della, you’re meant to be on a diet!) Emma was a beautiful, gentle lurcher who preferred to sniff the fascinating smells at her leisure and chow chow Millie was too hot in her fur coat on a summer’s day to venture far. There were, of course, the younger boys and girls who reminded me more of my own two rascals (sorry, Molly and Teddy, I mean jack russells!) Bouncy Roxy, a black lab-type; well-named Bullet, a lurcher who wanted to run; amiable jacks Nelson and Bella; and friendly and pulling-on-the-lead jack Kip. All adorable, the worst thing about walking dogs at a charity is the impossible desire to take all of them home. Instead I hope all my canine pals I met (and their fellows) get brilliant homes with wonderful people. And one day I hope to give a rescue dog a great home too.

May 2014 – Tales of Kells

Trudging up the highest hill of County Meath, we knew it would be worth it once we got to the top. It was tougher for my dad, who is in his 70s, than me ( I had once climbed Snowdon). But reaching the Loughcrew Cairns, an ancient burial site located at the top, was worth it. On our way down we encountered a coachload of passengers plodding up the hill. Some were of elder years. I would imagine that, although County Meath is no Snowdonia, they would still have found it hard going. But sometimes a steep difficult journey is worth the reward at the end. Our trip to Ireland started two days earlier. I was chief driver, a Hyundai i10 and ferry was our means of transport, and dad was navigator. Kells was our destination. I have an ambiguous view of Ireland’s roads. The country tracks are riddled with potholes. Yet the motorway and main roads are so much quieter than British roads it is a pleasure to drive. Although the famous Book of Kells actually resides in Dublin, there was a copy in.the Headfort Hotel. But more interesting for me was the tiny stone-built house where St Columba once lived. We also discovered his well, down a rustic lane on Kells’ outskirts, a tranquil setting. For a glimpse into early Christian Ireland, Kells is a great spot. The round tower and Celtic cross marks the monastery site in Kells, where the famed masterpiece was written, St Killan’s Heritage site is nearby, and we even walked up the Hill of Slane, where a ruined friary and church can still be seen today. People think the west coast of Ireland is the place to go but the east is pretty too. Our travels took us to County Cavan, the lake district of Ireland. We encountered a deaf former musician relaxing by fishing on Lough Ramor, and strolled along a nature trail around Lough Sheelin. Loughcrew Gardens, the former ancestral home of St Oliver Plunkett, was a beautiful landscaped wonderland of floral delights. So much to see in three days, I will need to go again.

May 2014 – When Clare met Eve

Eve was beautiful but being near her in close proximity made me a little apprehensive, for she retained her wild nature. As someone who had previous dealings with dogs or rabbits, and as someone who spent their days working in an office, volunteering at the owl sanctuary was very different to what I had done before. The sanctuary was in an ordinary small house in an ordinary estate. I say ordinary, except for the five or six birds of prey on perches (and one cockatiel in a large cage) in the living room with cloth coverings on the floor, ready for any droppings. And the pens in the garden where an array of owls, including Katie the magnificent great grey owl and Tonka the scops owl, resided. Some had been injured, others had been unwanted pets.

My first day was straightforward enough. Helping to clean the pens. I used to clean rabbit hutches, no bother I thought. But owls are messy eaters and it wasn’t long when I came across a disembodied furry yellow head amongst the urine and dropping-covered newspaper lining the floors. Being used to meat which doesn’t look too much like the animal it came from, it was a shock to see a dead farm chick like that, but I knew as long as I wore gloves I would get used to the gore. Alas, the next time I arrived, after cleaning the freezer shed, and counting the dead day-old frozen chickens (complete with yellow fluff still covering their cold bodies), my next task was to gut the chicks. Another volunteer showed me how to do it but while she gutted 160-odd, I couldn’t gut one. And although I do eat meat (although trying to cut down) I am too squeamish to gut chicks even when it comes to helping rescue owls.

October 2013

Countdown to my sabbatical begins October 2013. Last year I came back from a wonderful holiday and feeling the usual ‘back to work blues’ when I was told my company was looking to save money by requesting people to work part time, take voluntary redundancy or take an unpaid career break. I was granted my wish for a break starting the following May. Why was I ready for a break? I had been working in the same industry for 10 years and fancied a chance to try out different things. An adventure if you will.