Seagulls in the Attic by Tessa Hainsworth

Author:Tessa Hainsworth
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Non-Fiction, Humour, Travel, Cornwall, Personal Memoirs, Biography
ISBN: 9781409051473
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2010-06-09T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Billy Goat Gruff

Adjusting to Ben’s absence is not easy. Apart from missing him, it’s more of a struggle than ever coping with children, a full-time job, the hens and the allotment. We’d never be able to do it without Daphne and Joe. Since the children are at their farm so much of the time these days as there’s so much more room to play than at our place, Daphne suggested that Amy and Will bed down there for the nights when I have to get to work early.

‘It’s just as easy to get four of them off to school as it is two,’ Daphne said.

When I started to protest she shushed me with a smile. ‘I have an ulterior motive as well. Joe and I have a chance to meet some old dear friends in Scotland in November; a kind of reunion someone has organised. If we had someone to look after our kids for a few days we could do it.’

And so it’s arranged and working out fine. Will and Amy love it, playing with the three sock lambs on the farm along with our lamb Patch, who like the others should have been off the bottle ages ago. But the children can’t resist giving him an extra treat now and again, even though he’s mingling with Joe’s sheep, eating grass and growing bigger every day. In fact most of Joe’s lambs have grown so much that we always feel sorry for the poor ewes, standing patiently while their babies, some as big as they are, head butt their bellies to get another drop of milk.

It was quite a lot of work at first, those early bottle-feeds, but everyone helped, and it was great fun watching Patch race towards us, his little bottom wagging furiously as he sucked on the bottle. Every time we check on him now, Patch leaves the flock and runs towards us, pushing up against us as if still hoping there’s something for him. We always bring titbits of food, scraps of lettuce or cabbage leaves, and Patch nibbles them politely, though I’m sure he prefers the fresh green grass of the lush pasture he’s kept in.

It’s hard too trying to get to the allotment after being up at dawn for work. The exhilaration at the beginning has turned into anguish as my back aches from the endless hoeing and weeding, my knees have crumbled and my hands feel gnarled and ugly despite wearing gloves. And even with all the hard work, the vegetables aren’t doing that great. Slugs, cabbage butterflies and rabbits again – sometimes it seems a losing battle with all the little creatures determined to eat everything I produce. Still, the feeling of euphoria that envelops me after a good day’s digging and planting makes up for every ache and pain.

I pick up the postal van behind the boatyard at St Geraint. It’s June and there’s a drizzling chill rain. At least it is better than the storms we had during

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