Billie The Beak - Gone, but not Forgotten

We have been in denial for the last two days, but extensive searches have failed to find Billie the Beak.   That feisty ex-battery hen, a real character.    We will miss her.

Here she is leading her little flock - Little Red Hen and Sick Chick.  Billie was always the boss, she ruled their woodland with a very pointy beak, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

She was always the first to greet us when we went into the wood.

This was her usual form of greeting and it didn't matter whether we wore wellies or sandals... she preferred the sandal option.

The other two hens are a little lost without their leader.  Because we were working in the gardens today we let the hens out of the wood to join us, they just wanted company... and a few birdy treats from under the apple tree.

Sparky decided to check out the bird boxes and pointed out that this one needs some maintenance.  Thanks Sparky.

During my lunch break I nipped up the road to visit Arnold - another shock awaited me...  an empty field... no Arnold ... just a lock of coarse, black horse (tail) hair, near the fence.


My heart was in my mouth as I knocked on John's door and asked if Arnold was alright -  John came out and shouted for him ...  eventually Arnold came out of the inner yard, munching on some hay.  Phew!    What a relief.

He doesn't look quite as smart as he did at the weekend because he has been rolling in the mud again - but he still looks better than normal.  He was a little miffed when I pulled out the camera and made him wait for his carrot.  He forgave me, especially when we got to his favourite part of the proceedings, his polo mint.

I took the opportunity to check with John about what type of tree this one is.  He confirmed that it is an Ash.  The house was built in the 1830's, so the tree may well be a similar age, approx 180 years.  It has the typical lattice patterned trunk of an ancient Ash tree.    We still don't know whether it is one or two trees though!

'Bye Billie, I hope your end was swift.

Three Lovely Things

A handsome, and hungry, male pheasant

This handsome chap often calls by to scrounge a little birdseed from under the old apple tree and to peck amongst the crocuses.   He ruins the grass and the flowers, but I forgive him.  He is in magnificent condition, definitely trying to impress the females with his unusual hair-do!

Note his silver top - he is the only one I have ever seen like that!

He almost looks as though he has been scalped!  These photos were snatched through the utility window - he is far too easily spooked for me to get any closer to him.

We have been on Harry-sitting duties today, so we took him out to visit dear old Arnold, the horse.  Arnold was looking very dapper, he was freshly groomed and hadn't had time to go rolling in the mud.  


Then we went for a walk in the woods and I spotted this unusual.. flower?

I wish I had had my macro lens with me, but as I hadn't this is the best I could do.  It is probably very common, but it's new to me - does anyone know what it is?

I was just moving away from the flower when I spotted this bright coloured fungus.  Again, probably very common - but new to me, so if anyone knows what it is ...

The Story of the Haddocks

I first became aware of Finn Haddock's paintings in the late 1990's when my late father, Harry Hutson,  a naval historian,  was having his latest book promoted at Grimsby's Fishing Heritage Centre.  The walls in the large auditorium displayed an exhibition and although the main focus was on my father - those paintings were impossible to miss!


Later my father told us the story of Dr Haddock, which really helped us to put the paintings into context.


A couple of years later I saw a small notice in the local paper that the paintings were to be auctioned.  As a family we were interested to know how they sold, possibly purchase one, if we could afford it.


The day of the auction dawned and I nervously registered and got my bidding number.  It was a mixed auction and the paintings were a long way down the line, which meant that I had about three or four hours to observe how it was done - and to become increasingly nervous!


When the Haddocks came up the mood in the room altered from serious, intense bidding to scornful and dismissive laughter.  These paintings were treated as though they were trash and of no interest or value.  The auctioneer led this merriment.


I was incensed.  Head held high, I bid for as many as I was able to - there were only two other bidders interested in them and I was able to purchase the lesser, unfinished ones for as little as £5.00 each, sometimes £7.50 if one of the others put in a token bid, I paid more for the finished and framed ones.   All this time the rest of the auction room were laughing and jeering as the paintings were shown.  It was a travesty.  


The people at the auction didn't realise that the paintings were the work of a man who had been through such terrible experiences.  Many of the paintings are on hardboard, some on canvas.  Most are unframed.   I suppose they just saw large swirls of colour, daubs of paint, weird and inexplicable shapes and they fell about laughing.  I don't blame them, they didn't know.  Perhaps they wouldn't have cared anyway.


We keep the paintings because we value them.  I hope that one day the work of Dr Haddock will be appreciated as much as it was in the 1960's and 70's.     It's not about monetary value, it is about acknowledging that this man went through terrible times, but found a way to carry on, a way to get through his tormented nights.   Expressionism at its most intense.


The paintings have had their annual health check and spring clean and will now be returned to safe storage - hopefully that will be the last time they influence anyone's dreams.  Powerful work, given that George didn't know they were under the bed!