Here you are, MA!!! Do you know the game Farmville on Face Book? Probably not..and I have been really trying to be farmer on this game..but I don´t think I am cut out for this either. But I DO feel sorry for your cows near by. And I bet you take very good care of your garden..and even fertilize it like some gals do their undies around here

HUGS!!!!

Jaw Jaw
you went to Ireland.... well similar low cottages are common here in Scotland.Not thatched but red pantiles .these were imported when this nation traded with Netherland in the 19th century..the tiles were ballast on the return from our trade..
these houses have really thick walls smallish windows and few cupboards built in..these homes weere for folks who didn't have much..folks sleep in box beds..in a recess in the main room.Ususally a chest held their clothes beneath the bed..we have still a beam evident in our room where these bed were placed was long before we came..
there is a weaving room attacted to the house where flax was woven this is our storage place for lawn mowers etc.( one day maybe another sitting room will be made)
these weavers were well read due to the packman carrying pamplets and books to the workers..early negotiations about pay for the linen meant these folks shared facts and prices..early politicans maybe.This home is moderised of course but the footprint of industrious Scots is the same..I tend the garden that these people started..someday others will do the same..
aS I write songbirds are singing their joy...their babies are hatched and with luck they may have another brood..all joy of life is in the song I hear..There is no where else I would rather be for now..

Hi Humlan...not getting emails at present here..will be fixed this week..speak then..

What a lovely description of all that you survey. I read it twice because it brought back so many memories of Scotland and Ireland. Yes, indeed.

Since I started to post on bws I have loved when others share their lives and description of their area..

MA, I love reading your descriptions. They are all poetry to me. you needn't ever post pictures, you paint them with words.

Mountain Ash , I had 2 emails to you bounced back this week..I thought that maybe your mailbox was just full...will try again next week though....

JJ, some of the prettiest sites I recall in my daydreams of my trip to Ireland involve a Thatched Roof...nothing like that beautiful site nestled among the rolling hills of green...:)

My little area of town used to be surrounded by farmland and cotton fields. In the evenings, I could stand on my front porch and watch the most amazing sunsets. Nothing around me but 2 or 3 houses. It was so nice.

Now I have 72 new ones around me. Progress, they call it. The cotton fields and farming land is almost gone. The sunsets; however, are constant!

In the small towns in Alabama, we have lots of cottage homes, antebellum homes, and "estates." All Southern style...think Gone With the Wind. I prefer the small homes and would kill to own a 1800-cottage...but I'd have to sell both kidney's and a couple of lungs to afford one.

There is still a great deal of farmland around...still cotton fields. But more and more I'm seeing new subdivisions coming up and more land taken. I still love it.

I am going to begin retirement in 2 weeks. I am reading with an anxious mind...

Anno

go with the flow...unique to you a pathway will lead you to all you need.

JJ Sounds wonderful..I adores sunsets..newbuild costing lots of money were build on farmers land..they block out my wonderful hill ..she was a barometer to me for thirty years..saw rain coming saw sunsets..still see sunsets just not my loved view.
we too have new homes in our village.maybe even one day in my garden..long after I am somewhere else..thats the way people want things here..live in the country near the train/motorway for the city..wheras for me its home..

JJ
Written when I had my hill all to myself...
..............................................................
Lomond Sunset in November ©

Fife, Scotland
2004

I have stopped peeling potatoes
In order that I watch
The kaleidoscope move to the
Other side of Falkland Hill
Slowly moving yellow to red
And weaving mauve and blue within
The setting day

I imagine were I to touch
first the clouds then sky
it would be as if fingers
were feeling ermine then silk
in a sewing box
Like ribbons of velvet
And exactly like a kitten's paw

I return to the task
Refreshed and singing softly
To think that November gifts
Me this spectacular show
Just as I stand at my kitchen window
Preparing a meal for my family