tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61949292539856375242024-02-07T22:07:53.268-08:00Beyond the WoodshedBored with blogs of happy shiny people?
Or even tired of blogs of wryly thoughtful self-deprecating people? Welcome to the blog where misery reigns without mitigation.
Open the door to the woodshed,
there could be something nasty within....Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-35830087249324779522015-01-17T12:26:00.000-08:002015-01-17T12:26:19.800-08:00Mired and MitheringTis many weary weeks to endure afore the winter winds fall still and owr wood is allus dwindled to nowt. There be no shed to keep the timber from the rain so owr hearth be bleak and bare as the ice on the duck pond.
I dursn't step out the door for fear of the badgers and they tunnels. If t'wernt so boggy and slithery the tunnels were to be under the floor and we'd be sinking deeper into the pits. Tis no moon at the night and the sounds of the howling Gappergennies are fit to chill the soul to the marrow bones.
Then the sign we all been dreading for the years end has appeared. The monstrous red toad has been sighted in the depths of the darkwoods. I scarce can ...Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-39982668839225043482014-02-03T13:25:00.005-08:002014-02-03T13:25:58.299-08:00Sore AilingThe almighty hand be surely turned agin us and ours. Be plagued wi mould inside and out all be covered wi dankness and dire green crusted slime.
I be taken bad with the twitchy sickness and canna sleep a wink o nights for the shaking and skin slipping. Can scarce get a grip of the quill to pen this note for the shivers in the finger bones. The waters rise and rise at the door and we seen the first of the frogs even before the month was out.
The fruit of the apple tree lays a rotting on the sward with the crows fighting to the end wi the buzzard for the windfalls. Soon all will be wiped and washed away into the ceaseless torrents.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-45050949584326906262014-01-27T12:37:00.000-08:002014-01-27T12:37:58.048-08:00Hapless and MarshfoolingTis a long weary time since I done get through to the box to send all the missives off. Many a weary yard of bog and mire with the nagging sound of the spectre athwart the trees. The trees theyselves be groaning and straining with every blast of they gales of the north.
Then after all days a trudging and slopping the box be all blocked up and nailed down fast. So I have ter go on through the dim dingy evetide till I find a box that be not shut up, a hard finding in these grim days.
Then all the letters be damp and moulding from being kept in the wet sack for such a long time. I drops them in the post nevertheless. They may bring some small crumb of cheer to long distant kinfolk over the Yuletide seasons. I can scarce bear to think of them a seated round the festive board wondering where be their letter of bad tidings from Aunt Jude.
Then have I to find my long way back though the night wood, scarce daring to breathe out loud lest the beast of the piney copse do hear me and take the pursuit. No man alive has seen the beast but all do say canst hear the scraping sounds as it runs its seven claws down the bark afore it pounces on the weary soul homegoing at the unearthly hour.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-7502863202056174382013-08-25T11:51:00.003-07:002013-08-25T11:51:42.418-07:00Impending DoomAll is not well in the woods of late.
The cries of the buzzard are heard in the treetops. The grass is as yellow as an old moon and the taties as green as old grass.
Even the moss on the roof is thin and dry, only nettles and brambles abound and flourish.
The folks passing by hurry with eyes aside muttering dark tales of an unearthly beast sighted in the spinneys.
Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-41750295870996091172013-04-19T15:07:00.002-07:002013-04-19T15:07:26.535-07:00Spring to RightsWell I can scarce bring mysell to believe on it but mebbe tis nearing winters end. Folks do certainly have been acting strange as if the breeze has got between the ears.
Twas only the other morning I be standing by the gate and Mrs E do come past. Well she turns round and says 'Be that a bat a landing on your table there?' I could a fallen down with shock, she couldna even see out table across the gate. Well so I turns round and says 'What table, what bat, what can e be meaning?'
Turns out she thought a bat be landing on a bit of old wood leaning up out the back. I think to mysell, its not bats landing on our table you want to be worriting yoursell about, Mrs E, it be bats in the belfry. Tis way to early for the bats to be disporting themselves in the daylight.
Still the time will soon be a coming in for the Untaping of the Door and the Bearing of the Charred Log away to the summer pit. Amos has already put the fox skull on the back ledge. Soon the time will come.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-32914877409932442122013-03-31T15:10:00.003-07:002013-03-31T15:10:56.951-07:00Wintering with Never an End Still winter howling and March be near dead and gone. We done burn allus wood and leaves and be grappling for the last sticks and twigs in the copses with them next door. So this is why I canna get to the writing afore as the fingers be turning as black and blue as the crows in the eaves.
The woodshed still be unbuilt despite us pleas to the Lord of the Estate. Nought but a heap of bricks facing us whenever us do venture past the back door. The front door still be taped up till the warmer times arrive. Amos said it be the shed of Lilith and he who seeks to rebuild the shed of Lilith will reap his own downfall in the dust and shards.
Even nature itsell be giving up the mortal coils in despair. The frogs have all departed, though that be no dire hardship, the cursed creatures they be. There be dead foxes by the road, one with a white winding sheet across its sad remains. And when I go to do the springtide clean in the outside outhouse I nearly flummoxed meself into a collapse with the screaming nadgers as there be a drownded mouse in the pan.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-5138767301623167512012-12-10T14:55:00.001-08:002012-12-10T14:55:18.072-08:00A Cautionary TaleFolks do say tis the season of merriment and revells so I durst treat mysell down the market. I fished the pond through and dragged out near enough coppers to give over for a batch of they new fangled cloots pegs.
But they did splinter to dust in my fingers when I did try to hang the laundry on the barb wire. So I just go back to the old ways and drape the smocks on the thorn bushes.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-81377073721565696492012-09-28T13:02:00.000-07:002012-09-28T13:02:01.513-07:00The Good Old Days are Lost Forever and Gone for a BurtonTis nearly time for the harvest festivities but we done already picked the tomato and made broth to see us through the winter months. I niver did see such a time for poor pickings, the apple be the size of a tomato and the tomato be scarcely bigger than a blackcurrant.
Tis not like the old days when the lord used to come round arter the shooting and offer us all a pair o nice juicy rooks to set us right. I still can nearly smile when I do think about the time when he ask Ada how many rooks she did want and she turned round and said, None, Sire because I ain't got no garden. Foolish Ada she be such a townie that she did think of hanging the rooks up to scare the varmints away from the taters and coddles. Well the lord turned round and sent her straight off to Cook to learn her how to cook a fine rook pie.
The gentry ain't what they used to be, and that's as true as a Starkadder mile.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-66970715611837200662012-09-19T15:10:00.001-07:002012-09-19T15:10:43.992-07:00A Lonesome Hound AppearsWell I been a toiling and a moiling all the long days of summer and now here we be with autumn upon us and nary a pippin or a scroggin to show for all that moiling and toiling in the heaving rains. Twill be a shabby harvest festival for sure.
I be standing by the ole tree searching for signs of apples when the fox come leaping out the hedge like the old nick himsell was arter him. Then a lone hound come chasing him but there were no huntsman or shouts of tantivvy to be seen nor heard. Where do such a hound come from, all by itsell with no pack nor masters? Tis a worrisome portent when the hounds depart the pack.
The damsons did all rot afore August was out and I dinna know how we can eat with no fruit on the vine.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-19120868831111613872012-04-12T12:13:00.000-07:002012-04-12T12:13:21.267-07:00A sign from aboveWe do have thunder and hail the size of cormorants eggs falling hard from the heavens so the fleece do be wet enough for us to discern the favour of God on our plan so here I be sending the slide of our gathering place, a humble edifice it be true but fit enow for poor Quivering folk such as we.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SuaWGbTwXZDJX15MMo_aVmEBNGiTpCcsYxqi97xzoVBR-UrUxGIP75mP5_h5PsGE9gKMg4Mz7gSlUMDwIUXzBVerkvirhXOJqaaUN1NoPb6Y2hotZ_lu2IDGw4fCSW9UA5A3ov_0En4/s1600/Chapel+door+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SuaWGbTwXZDJX15MMo_aVmEBNGiTpCcsYxqi97xzoVBR-UrUxGIP75mP5_h5PsGE9gKMg4Mz7gSlUMDwIUXzBVerkvirhXOJqaaUN1NoPb6Y2hotZ_lu2IDGw4fCSW9UA5A3ov_0En4/s320/Chapel+door+small.jpg" /></a></div>Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-27357098375842213482012-04-09T10:11:00.002-07:002012-04-09T10:11:33.090-07:00Well tis a long weary time since I be able to get mysell out to the posting box. I be afeard to put a foot outside the yard gate since the wild mob were howling in the dusk. But now I do find myself in a quandry.
While I been shutting myself in I did wonder about sending a magic lantern slide of the humble abode of the Quivering Brethren. I be concerned about putting the graven images out as maybe folk would think such things were Papish idols and then the folk might attend the gatherings for impure reasons for the niceness and beauty of the building and then we would be in such danger, we may be starting a foot down the slope and afore we know what happens, we would be kissing the papal ring.
I did ask the elder and he said he would lay it afore the Lord in prayer over the night and if the fleece be dewy in the dawn then we may send the slide.
The mice are disporting in the corn sack and there be a dead fox stuffed inside the badger sett.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-72194143801489880782012-03-14T17:03:00.000-07:002012-03-14T17:03:35.595-07:00Nature Green and RawWe be under attack now from every which way. There be something nasty in the pond making green slime bubbles and still countless frogs disporting in the murkiness.
I went to take the towel off of the bushes as it be nearly bath day and had such a scare I be shaking and quivering as I were bit by a giant buzzing bee. Then the old gander stabbed his beak in me good leg.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-90952635594953426362012-02-26T14:29:00.001-08:002012-02-26T14:29:31.559-08:00DelugeMidweek the rains came like the floods and the frogs left the pond. They were hopping and creeping and stacking all over the yard and even in the shed. Could hardly put a foot outside without it squelching and squalling.<br />
<br />
I never did see anything to match it in all my born days, no I never did. Was like a veritable plague of Egypt come again and Amos did say it was a sign of the end times as the frogs be the familiar sign of fhe false prophets who will arise at the last days foretelling the doom of the world and all that is in it.<br />
<br />
Well it be the seventh night now and the world still be here. The frogs be back in their rightful place now but the buzzard is waiting down by the old badger site so I don't think we be out of the woods yet, not by a very long piece of string.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-53706583505059861072012-02-20T14:29:00.000-08:002012-02-20T14:29:20.963-08:00Screech ScreechMy how those foxen and vixen do make such screeching and howling about out there in the dark night surrounding the humble shack,. I hardly dare creep out to the woodpile to fetch in another twig to stoke the fire.<br />
<br />
And I done spend weeks upon weeks cleaning up the pond making it all nice and clean and tidy. Then them frogs come in and mess it all up again with their antics like it was never done. The elder tree been cut down by hands unknown and the water ceased to run.<br />
<br />
<br />Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-86466935041614261722012-02-07T15:34:00.000-08:002012-02-07T15:34:37.616-08:00A Special DaySeein as it be nigh on a score and half dozen years since me and Amos sealed our fate tis time to share what be our favourite repast<br />
<br />
Stuffed chine<br />
Chine, parsley, marjoram, mace, salt, leeks or chives<br />
<br />
Soak the chine one night in water having first weighed it. Wipe dry then cut well into the bone on both sides. Mix stuffing made up of the other ingredients press it well into each split, wrap up in cloth and boil allowing half an hour for each other pound.<br />
<br />
It was taken from the back of a big fat pig. My grandmowther used this recipe when she was young. She has been dead about thirty five years and she was nearly seventy five when she died.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-33088932678476843712012-01-23T13:43:00.000-08:002012-01-23T13:43:32.748-08:00A fleeting glimpseTis so unseasonable I be sat here with nary a fire in the grate. Amos be sick the other week so he did say we could break out the logs under the ole sheet for a treat. I see the poor boys from the middle gathering a few sticks in the woods at dusk most days now. <br />
<br />
Strange happenings the other night, when I did go out to put the old gander indoors, there be flashing lights seen from the cricket pavilion. Gave me the screaming nadgers it did, I can tell you for sure. Then when I got indoors there was a fairy cake in Reuben's place with the top all chewed away. What can this mean? It be the gumprints of an enormous cat.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-89196340907249059872012-01-04T15:09:00.000-08:002012-01-04T15:09:42.778-08:00New year old clothingI treated mysell to some new buttons the other week. Well, I say new, they were from the old army stores counter so they been used afore, I well reckon. I sewed them on the jacket that I been given from the rectors wifes friends mother when she passed away. Then I thought to mysell, I be using the thread from my departed uncle's widder to sew these here ex naval buttons on. What portent be this for the coming year?Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-69212440828103498662011-12-26T15:34:00.000-08:002011-12-26T15:34:44.332-08:00A fine giftDid commemorate the shortest day with our annual outing together to the market. Amos surpassed hisself in magnamaniousness above all this year. What did he do but turn round and get me a bran new mop! I be so excited I can scarcely stand beside mysell...<br />
<br />
Shame we dinna have no floor to use it on..Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-9449119077728038032011-12-21T14:35:00.000-08:002011-12-21T14:39:44.968-08:00A Meagre FestivityTwas the seasonal fest at the workhouse today. The cuts be so bad now we get nothing but a potato each. We huddled about thinking of the good ole days when all was merry and bright and we did even get a bottle of wine each to take back. Nowadays we don't get so much as a thank you for working to the bone all year.<br /><br />Then when I get back to the shack I find a mountain of bark chippings in the yard, so things might be looking up for a change...Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-59911036966330187512011-12-03T15:36:00.000-08:002011-12-03T15:40:07.011-08:00December in the bonesSome persons unknown have thrown away all the carrots I be saving for the Yuletide feast, I canna undestand the reason why, they were just getting to that bendiness when they be well matured.<br /><br />And we killed and ate the king pumpkin last week and the taters are green in the ground. Looks like acorns again for Christmas dinner.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-59592005167709205822011-11-20T10:04:00.000-08:002011-11-20T10:09:16.948-08:00And so it doesStill not been able to tape the door up and the draughts are creeping round my lumbago something rotten. Got hold of a sweep at last turned out to be a right ornery boggart.<br /><br />Amos had to run all the way in front of he from the highway like Elijah afore Ahab so he didn't lose hisself in the woods. Been sweeping since 1950 and still scarrit of a few old trees. Still Effie says the rustling in her ceiling ceased now so maybe the nasty things have crept out, still I won't be at peace now till we have a proper woodshed to hide them in once more.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-64962378857811460902011-11-15T12:17:00.000-08:002011-11-15T12:21:02.540-08:00No NewsBe getting sorely worried now, still the woodshed be unbuilt. I fear the nastiness will be roaming about the place now seeking a new cranny to hide in. Amos already slit his hand on a nail under the kitchen cupboard. <br /><br />Twill be time to tape the door up soon and then the nastiness could be trapped inside till Ash Wednesday.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-86446186596752923652011-11-10T14:55:00.000-08:002011-11-10T15:00:39.773-08:00The Chill in the BloodI be right naggled now. Amos only been and gone and opened the window. Surely he does know that opening the window after All Saints been and gone means we be in for a chilling shivering winter full of shivering and sneezing. The draughts will be howling and mithering round our chamber now till Palm Sunday now as canna shut the window till the rain be stopped entirely for 40 days and 40 nights.<br /><br />Maybe bricking up be the only answer I can arrive at.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-70107360478856070092011-11-06T15:36:00.000-08:002011-11-06T15:39:57.830-08:00Allsaints EveWell was the time of year agen for me to pay me reglar call on the neighbours, not the next neighbours but the ones on t'oither side. And they only done save the bottle o ginger wine I give to them only the last year's visit. So I had another few sips for the ones that have gone and a few more for those yet to appear. Tis so good of them to save me the wine and resist the temptingness of the brew thesselves.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194929253985637524.post-50598266157365953692011-10-07T13:56:00.000-07:002011-10-07T14:02:31.019-07:00Something nasty in the woodhengeWell we just be back from another long roundabout journey. Took the short cut round the top of Salisbury plain. Thought I seen a great bustard but it were only a seagull.<br /><br />Then we passed sign saying woodhenge. Be cheaper than going to stonehenge I said 'Let us go and treat ourselves to a look round before winter sets in and we have to keep oursells indoors' And who knows, there may be an odd henge of wood just laying there unwanted that we could borrer for the burner or even take back to replace the dear departed woodshed.<br /><br />But twas a lying sign cos when we did arrive was no woodhenge at all, twas all made of concrete posts like some primeval pinball set up. I was so cross, I could barely contain mysell. Woodhenge indeed! Concretehenge more like.<br /><br />I blame the National Trust, lying so and so's one and all.Judith Starkadderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060639062219337723noreply@blogger.com3