Do you know what this is?

I am fairly sure of what it is, but I'd love to hear what other people think.

It's fairly big - about 2 feet long (60 cm) with the hook part at the end about 10" (25 cm).  The wood it is made from is Ash.

Answer:  This was known as a Fagging Stick:

'the smooth-edged hook succeeded the serrated sickle for reaping corn in many places about 1860-1870. Fagging tools have sharp blades and are heavier and wider than sickles and used with a different action. Instead of grasping the corn, the reaper held back the stalks or drew them towards him with a short crook called a fagging stick and slashed through the straw rather than sawing it as with a sickle. A larger quantity of corn was cut at one swing, though time was taken up with sharpening the blade. The hooks are still used today for trimming hedges and cutting crops close to hedges or walls that cannot be reached by machine.'

Many thanks to http://england.prm.ox.ac.uk/englishness-harvesting-tools.html for the excellent description.  

So as you can see, several of you were going along the right lines.  I love these pieces of our farming history, and this one won't be going anywhere for a while - we will just enjoy it here and probably put it on a beam in the kitchen (as you do!)

A conflict of interests

The spinning wheel photo says a little about what I have had on my mind recently, as my late friend A was a real craftswoman, and spun, wove, did needlework, made hedgerow baskets, and other creative things besides.  There are two spinning wheels going to auction from her house clearance, and I have taken a bag full of weaving stuff - 2 looms in pieces, as well as a home-made peg loom, which I am trying to sell on her behalf.  I purchased her little home-made Inkle-style loom which I have yet to get to grips with (no time) and was given two bags of unwashed fleece - a soft brown which could be Alpaca as it is so soft and fine, and a Leicester Long Wool (I think).  I want to get back to spinning again and this is a good kick in the pants for me.  I also purchased her craft lamp as mine was very broken having fallen over several times and the lens was held in place with a grip-tie! My broken one has now gone for recycling.

I have been up helping her daughter to box things up to go to auction, and to advise which things are better pieces and should go to a different auction, which to the charity shops and which to the tip.  I have also bought some small bits myself, but have felt I had a conflict of interests as I am in business and need to buy at sensible prices (trying to keep at a level I would pay in auction) but I also wanted to give the best price possible for her family's sake.  I didn't like to feel I was taking advantage and profiting from A's death.  Some of the items we bought had woodworm, so needed treating and couldn't have gone to auction anyway, and at least she has had a firm price - you never know what will happen at auction, and vendors have to pay a seller's premium, as well as paying a hefty fee to have the stuff transported to the auction.

Matters have not been helped by a neighbour who seemed to see me as out to feather my own nest and said as much.  He was at our elbows as A's daughter went through each room, and the atmosphere was absolutely poisonous!  He used to upset A too, with what he said, so I think he is something of a control freak (he went through EVERY sack of stuff we were sending to the tip - mainly damaged bed linen, old "useful" cardboard and paper - that sort of thing.)  He was even lurking when we were going through A's socks and knickers drawers! For heaven's sake! Each day when he left the atmosphere lightened totally and we felt we were able to get on with things so much better.

Anyway, I hope that the time and advice I have given have been beneficial - well, I know A's lass was SO GLAD to have me at her side when we opened a wardrobe and 70 years' worth of family bedlinen teetered towards us!  I thought A's daughter was going to do a runner . . . it really was a tad overwhelming.  A didn't like to throw anything away, and I think there were so many memories attached to the things she had hung on to.

I have purchased A's living room mirror, which reminds me SO MUCH of her, and I feel I have her near me which is a comfort.  It is in the Art Nouveau style, but dated later in the Edwardian period.  It has been slavered in once-white paint (probably back in the 1960s) but is wooden underneath, so we must laboriously remove all this paint.  Not an overnight job and it will take an entire can of paint-stripper and more besides.  This would have gone against it in auction as dealers don't usually want stuff which needs work, and mirrors aren't that popular either.  I offered to bid on it in auction, but A's daughter wouldn't hear of it and accepted my offer which I believe was a bit more than it would have made in auction.

Then there were the things I had given A as presents in the last year of her life.  Because I was being given them back, I felt as if I had only loaned them to her - which was a horrid feeling.  These little flowers were part of her birthday gift, although her daughter has kept the pretty Deco jug they were in as she said her mum loved it so much and couldn't stop talking about it.

When we were clearing her bedroom, I noticed an embroidery I had done from one of the Diary of a Country Lady x-stitch books of beautiful charts - it was a dragonfly on a white water-lily.  I was touched that she had not only kept it all those years - I think I did it about 12 years ago, after her husband had died - but hung it in her bedroom.  That is now hanging on a wall here now and I brought it home with mixed emotions.

I have offered to come and share the cleaning when the house has been emptied, and also to tidy up in the garden.  It is an hour's journey each time (about a 60 mile round trip) so all this has taken big chunks of our time in recent weeks (OH came last week to help move some big stuff).

I discovered the strangest thing  whilst I was doing some family history research for A in the months before her death.  One branch of the family came from Devon, and I worked very hard to try and trace them back from London, to a village of origin.  I could scarcely believe my eyes when I found out that they hailed from the next village to the one my dad's male side of the family came from - just think, my folk and her folk might well have known one another as they were living cheek by jowl at the same period in time.

So there we are, a big dose of up close and personal today.  I was in two minds about writing it in case anyone who knew A recognizes her from my writing.  I really hope that I have not "taken advantage" as that very unpleasant neighbour seemed to think, but it is a thin line to walk and at no time did I set out to benefit from A's death.  Had he not been involved, I would not have worried at all but he has upset me greatly.

Hard work never killed anyone . . .

That's how the saying goes.  Sometimes recently I have wondered as to its truth!  I seem to be on a perpetual treadmill - a positive one, for all that, but however hard I work there still seems to be a long  long list of "fings to do".  The garden of course is one, as that IS my preserve and responsibility.  My husband is not a great one for vegetables and can't understand why I put myself through the wringer each year to grow by own french beans, runner beans, spring onions, cucumbers, tomatoes, courgettes etc, so he doesn't understand how different they taste, how much fresher they are and how pure they are - unsullied by sprays which no living being should ingest.

Anyway, that's by the by, as gardening is relaxing when I have time to shoehorn it into my busy week.  Housework, also needing to be tackled will have to wait until tomorrow, as will the painting of the stairs and curtain-making and restoring stock too.

Today was a Fleamarket day, which meant an early start (5.30 a.m.), unpacking and setting up, standing around for around 6 hours, packing up and cramming back into the car the items which didn't sell.  I meet up with old friends and customers though, and have some lovely chats, and meet new people.  There is usually the "expert" who will come round and try to tell you that so-and-so isn't really a so-and-so but is actually a wotsit, and it does that and not this, as you say it does!  There were none of those today, fortunately.

Until you have actually stood around for 6 hours though, you don't realize how tiring it is!  I don't think I could do this every day - it will take me until Wednesday to get over it I think.  When I got in I felt like I could sleep on the head of a pin : )  I do walk around too - exploring the outside stalls first thing before the public come in, on the lookout for something of interest to sell, and again, chatting to friends and acquaintances out there.  

I began packing early and managed to get away to Tesco's with just 5 minutes to spare before closing time, so grabbed a bottle of our favourite red wine which I forgot to buy yesterday.

A photo from Builth Antiques Fair and Fleamarket last year.  You never know what you will find, which is the joy of such places.

Anyway, the house looks like Steptoe's yard right now, full of stock to go to the Unit or be worked on first, or take its turn in the change-over of things to sell so that things are never static and boring.  In the back hall are two paper sacks with unwashed fleeces in them - a really soft brown fleece (Alpaca?) and a Leicester Long Wool I think which have come home with me from clearing my dear friend Annie's house.  There were many fleeces and I want to get back to my spinning.  Hence in the middle of the kitchen table, surrounded by cookery books and a couple of magazines is a Drop Spindle with some soft brown wool!  I really MUST tidy up tomorrow.

A cacophony of cows and other jottings

My wonderfully-scented Clematis Montana rubens 'Odorata' which is in full bloom at present and smells rather like vanilla.  Definitely a planting I will have in my next garden.

The other Clematis Montana rubens down in the yard.  Both were I think £1 tiny plants from Morrisons, but have grown really well.  I think they've only been planted a couple of years.

I managed 5 1/2 hours' gardening on Wednesday I think it was.  This plot at the top of the yard used to have soft fruit in it, but I have taken out the very aged gooseberry bushes (they were 27 years old!) which had got diseased, and I have others in the paddock plot.  I also removed some random raspberries, and three Loganberries which are doing splendidly in large pots.

Rhubarb plot finally weeded, and may have the feeble Rhubarb in the distance chucked as it only ever puts out pencil-slim sticks for some reason.  It was a crown I got from a car boot sale.  It's not planted too deeply, so I suspect it needs some more grub, but the one this end was bought in a tub and well grown and more expensive! and gives big stems in same soil.  Flimsy support on right is having a last job growing more sweet peas and then will be dumped as it was cheap and nasty and bent the minute I put it in the ground last year to support a climbing rose.

Mum's old patio is tidied up a bit now and the Aquilegias just coming into bloom.

A rather blurry close-up of the Geranium phaeum which I know as Weeping Widow.  It grows EVERYWHERE in my garden, but that said, the bees absolutely love it, and when you dead head it, it will flower all summer long.

I FINALLY got my beans planted today.  The wigwam is Runner Beans, grown from my saved seed last summer, which didn't provide much in the way of germination, so I have had to buy more seed (Scarlet Emperor) and have those germinated in the polytunnel now, for a 2nd later row.  The ones on the left are Hunter (flat) beans. which all germinated and like the runners, have been romping away in the polytunnel, desperate to get planted in the ground, but I feared a late frost so let them grow on a bit.

I like my garden to be a mass of flowers in spring, and these Aquilegias certainly fit the bill.

As do the cheerful Welsh Poppies.  I tried growing these from seed for several years, but no joy, so I gave up and didn't try to sow any more.  Next year I had masses from nowhere. . .

More colour in the main garden, but damned if I can remember what they are called now!

Job done: old folding chair polished up for the Fleamarket tomorrow.

Work in progress: a child's deck chair which has to have the old canvas removed.  I have brought some pretty stripey material to replace it, but as that has pink and cream stripes, I will need to rub down and repaint the chair frame (in white).

Finally, 3 cakes for friends, all Banana Applesauce cakes. That's a recipe I use regularly.  I will try and find time to include the recipe next week.

Oh, and the cacophony of cows?  The dairy herd went up to there overnight field, but then I heard a huge bellowing and yelling and the entire herd was back out in the lane, complaining bitterly that they wanted a different field tonight!  I think they must have put them back down in the fields towards the river as there was soon no noise after that!

Grosmont Castle

After my weekend away, I persuaded my husband that we should go to Grosmont castle, which is in the valley of the River Monnow in Monmouthshire, and about 20 mins or so by car from Monmouth, Abergavenny, and a little longer to Hereford and Ross-on-Wye.  There is wonderful walking in this area, and it's not far from Offa's Dyke Path, and part of the Three Castles Walk (more of that later).

The castle remains are fairly substantial.  It was probably initially built (in wood) by Earl William Fitzx Osbern in 1070, on his campaign of invading and controlling South Wales.  However, he died the following year and his son Roger was stripped of his lands in 1075.  The powerful Marcher Lord Payn Fitz John took over in the reign of King Henry I (1100 - 1135).  Orcop Castle, of which virtually nothing remains, was linked to Grosmont and White Castle, although it is with Skenfrith that the ring of three castles controlled the area.

Further history about the castle can be found HERE.

As you can see, it was powerfully constructed, and the Great Hall of Grosmont was constructed early and was the civil capital of the Lordship.

Views across the village from the castle.

Clematis Montana rubens makes a pretty corner.

Above and below.  For sale - I noticed it on-line and wanted to check it out, though I think much needs doing to it (probably re-roofing for starters) and as this is grade II* listed, you would be in for hefty supervision and bills and Conservation Officer involvement for external works.  HERE are the listing details.

This is the back of the house.  Methinks the ivy may cover a multitude of sins!  Great for nesting birds and feeding insects though.

View from the house across the church graveyard.  Peaceful . . .

What remains of an old preaching-cross in the churchyard (base probably added later I think).

A view of houses along the main street.  It was so peaceful there and probably safe enough to lie down in the middle of the road if you were a cat!

Writer Jan Morris claimed that Grosmont was the most beautiful village in Britain.  She could well be right.  This is the Town Hall.

Apple orchards near Dymock, Gloucestershire

Just pictures today as I am off out the door any minute (this has been a BUSY year thus far).  Photos of the many apple orchards on the Gloucestershire border with Herefordshire (in which county there are LOTS more).  The perfume from the blossom was divine.  Enjoy.