A New Friend

Our broody hen has now been sitting for just over two weeks. We have had to separate her from the others to give her some peace. They would try at every opportunity to add eggs to her nest and (perhaps out of jealousy) to nudge her off. She is now in the neighbouring stable room in the rabbit's old hutch and sits - calm and unperturbed - for days on end.

We have been told to lift her off every few days (if she doesn't try to do so herself) so she can stretch and offload. It feels counter-intuitive to interfere at all, but she seemed grateful for it.

Advice comes in abundance these days from a new acquaintance, an old man who lives at the far end of the village. He knows everything about everyone in the village, and if some new folk turn up, he makes it his business to know about them too.

He lives in a ramshackle old place with no obvious entrance. The first thing you see from the road is a creatively stacked wall of old bricks, tiles, rusted metal and wood, useful for something, some day...

Then a tidy path flanked by freshly cut hay, strawberry beds and lettuces - all neatly maintained – and a beautifully oiled, sturdy frame for peas.

Through a little gate, the chaos begins: stacks of potentially useful objects litter the space filling every available corner with something to attract your attention and make your head spin! A few hanging baskets with flowers decorate the junk and lead you deeper into the labyrinth of narrow, makeshift gates and skinny pathways snaking off into what feels like a neverending back yard. All kinds of ducks and chickens reside in unexpected enclosures as we pass, making agitated noises and busying themselves about, making the best of their quirky little homes.

We came to look at Laufenten (Indian 'running ducks') - reputedly the best slug-eaters around. We had heard of Mersiowsky through the vague description of a neighbour, but couldn't work out exactly where he lived. Then an ad for ducks in the local paper gave the address but no contact number.

Our presence on the old Halle Hof had somehow escaped Mersiowsky's attention, but now he is making up for lost time.

May / June

Action on the Farm

The last few weeks of preparation finally resulted in an intense five days of early starts, endless work and long, jolly evenings: a group of nine students and their two tutors from Belgium arrived on Sunday evening, ready to crack on with transforming our stable.

They needed a project to consolidate the skills they have been gathering during their years at Duurzaam Wonen...

and we have projects galore. There are so many things that need our attention, but our stable was the most urgent - with no proper roof to protect the existing walls, the building has been rapidly deteriorating as the seasons have passed.

We spent the week before their arrival – as soon as the rains abated – salvaging bricks from a heap down the road and building two walls on the rooftop to create a solid base for the new roof.

With most of the materials on site and our carpenter friend on hand to explain his designs, Sunday evening was a lively affair - eating and drinking around the fire whilst shaping up plans for the week ahead.

Bogumila and I spent most of the week in the kitchen (sadly still our tiny temporary hovel) cooking up mostly vegetarian food from scratch with as much as possible from our store and garden. Needless to say, the food was eaten with relish with rarely anything left over.

The lads worked tirelessly constructing a timber frame roof to match the angle and style of the roofs on the other buildings; cleaning and plastering the outside walls of the stable; and hauling in old roof tiles from a building site near Görlitz. The tiles have been traditionally hand crafted and double fired with a black protective layer of fired clay. They have weathered well but required a good deal of chipping free of old plaster. Due to their irregular shape, they had to be individually plastered onto the roof.

The yard took on the air of a Moroccan souk - the sounds of chipping stone, clanging metal, sawing wood, shouts and laughter echoing between the buildings...

It was a mammoth task. At one point it looked as if not enough tiles had survived the transportation and clean-up, but in the end, the roof is complete with just thirty tiles to spare!

The building looks fantastic. It feels as though it has always been that way, the old roof tiles lending an air of age-old tradition and stability.

It has taken a while to recover from the constant action and we are slowly regaining more sleep. It was very sad to see them all go and the place is now once again very quiet.

However, there is no real rest in sight: the weather has been almost constantly sunny and relatively dry for over a week now with the temperatures set to rise into the thirties. So the scythes are out and hay making begins in earnest.

It has been hard to anticipate anything stable in the weather after weeks of flood warnings and horror stories of burst damns across the country. Yet thankfully, our little corner of the Oberlausitz has remained safe. Our landscaping efforts following last years floods have proved very successful and we have continued as normal, almost oblivious to the havoc being wrought elsewhere.

On the other hand, the land work has been severely held back due to the long winter and the rains. There is now a real urgency to get as much ground prepared for planting as we can. The big field has been sown with green manure (at a precarious time I might add, as the rains came just after. It is hard to estimate how well the seed has survived) and we have reserved a long strip along the fence for planting up our field crops.

Other news: our family has now expanded to include two little goats barely three months old! They are so friendly and desperately keen on human attention - such a pleasant change from our wild and fearful sheep. We tether them for a few hours each day in the long grass before returning them to their makeshift pen on the north-west corner of the building (an existing ramshackle sheep shed that will eventually be pulled down to create a terrace).

We look forward to introducing them to their new home (when time allows for the finishing touches) beside the chickens in the Belgian House.

May Queen, The Big Break & Spring's First Gifts

Waschbär

This morning I found a raccoon, huddled in the corner of the compost loo.

It was 5am and the birds were at their best, the air was fresh and warm and everything felt more alive than ever.

I thought it was a badger. I have never seen either in the flesh and have not considered that anything badger-like other than a badger lives this side of the Atlantic.

It sat there, peacefully, unperturbed by my presence. Slowly, it moved its' thin, pointed nose towards the ground, as if to indicate that it couldn't care less if I sat down beside it.

I hesitated, wondering if perhaps it had rabies, knowing that it obliterates shyness and draws the animal out of its' comfort zone to seek contact.

But it didn't move. It just fixed its small dark eyes on mine, and waited.

Molly the cat came to find me, and sensed the presence of something unfamiliar. Her body tensed and she made as if to protect herself. She too then sensed its' docility, and backed off.

I went and fetched my camera, and still it was there, in exactly the same position.

Later (after some sleep) I thought I may have dreamed it. I went to check, and it was gone.

Better Late than Never

Ahhhh. That's more like it! At last I can announce that SPRING HAS ARRIVED!

The last pile of snow in the yard, blackened with dirt, finally melted at the weekend. We are now blessed with blue skies and full sun (20° out of the shade), a brisk breeze and the rich smell of bare earth. The birds are unstoppable - and so too are we now, having waited so long to be released outdoors.

Landscaping and clearing beds are the order of the day, although weeding is still off limits with the heavy winter moisture clinging to the earth. But we can sit out here in the fresh evening air (albeit with woolly jumpers!) and dream up all the things that now so urgently need our attention.

Doors are almost done on the polytunnel (after careful measuring of the remaining strips of tough plastic) bringing peace of mind when inevitable winds pick up. It feels as though the wind has been waiting for warm, sunny weather to regularly shake up the false sense of peace that glorious sunshine brings.

Our careful re-glazing of the greenhouse requires us to be constantly on the ball, allowing no loose objects within sight of the large panels - such easy victims of a sudden gust.

Many tomato plants (now crowding out our window sills) have made their way into the warm, sheltered space of the glass house, and the excitable roots of broad beans have finally found a home in the cleared earth.

The chickens are much happier to roam in their wild woodland pen, but with no bounds to their curiosity the extended fenced area must be completed before more young plants make their way out. Battling with jagged, reclaimed fencing we begin the painstaking process of installing the last necessary boundary (protecting the polytunnel and vegetable patch) in whatever time we can snatch together.

Our time is made possible by the fact that Maia now has some firm play dates with our neighbour's girl, as well as the luxury of a Polish lady dedicating her time to support us in whichever way is called for. She has emerged serendipitously from my English class in town, so taken with our endeavour that she is relocating to our village and committed to coming regularly with any skill that is needed. Her knowledge and experience are vast and her humble good will truly abundant.

Dear friends and family are beginning to emerge with planned visits as life streams back into our farm in the middle of Europe. We feel blessed already and welcome every breath of fresh air heading our way, as 2013 finally finds its feet in the Oberlausitz.

Spring Or Not To Spring