Saturday, 7 June 2014

Be our guest! ;-)

We've taken to doing B&B! ;-)

T'is our new venture, doncha know!

The only differences are that the guests have to be of the feather variety;

WE pay for the said guests to come and

use our facilities;  WE allow them to eat us out of house and home...

 and WE allow them to generally take over the rather excellent facilities!

Accommodation is provided very close to the eating facilities

and there are no set meal times, as such!

(We are very flexible about this! )

We take guests of all culture / denominations/ nationalities etc etc.

Short beaked, long beaked and all colours are very welcome!

This wonderful B&B is set in stunning surroundings,

including a lovely garden with vintage treasures dotted around.

Drinking water is provided, as are baths.

Showers by appointment!

We don't mind any guests bringing their young

as long as they are well behaved and don't cause too much noise!

We do have a few larger rooms available for the extended family.

These are en - tweet ;-)

                        And we can also be contacted, beforehand, for special dietary requirements!

Our lovely B&B is sited near to many places of interest; in particular

woodland, meadowland, rivers and moorland.

The accommodation also offers great views!!

We do have limited parking but we find that most of our guests

prefer to fly in... rather than drive in.

Internet facilities, if required, are free to guests, especially

if they want to use ...Twitter. 


Tuesday, 3 June 2014

The Swallow

I was delighted to have the chance to snap this beautiful bird, on Sunday,

whilst we were roaming around Toby's Reclamation Yard!

I was pretty pleased with the result as I've never managed to

take a good photo of a Swallow!

It reminded me of a poem by John Clare; one of my favourite

poets because of the beauty and simplicity in his words.


The Swallow

Pretty swallow, once again

Come and pass me in the rain. 

Pretty swallow, why so shy?

Pass again my window by. 

The horsepond where he dips his wings, 

The wet day prints it full of rings. 

The raindrops on his airy track 

Lodge like pearls upon his back. 

Then again he dips his wing

In the wrinkles of the spring,

Then oer the rushes flies again, 

And pearls roll off his back like rain. 

Pretty little swallow, fly
Village doors and windows by,
Whisking oer the garden pales

Where the blackbird finds the snails;

Whewing by the ladslove tree

For something only seen by thee; 

Pearls that on the red rose hing

Fall off shaken by thy wing.

On that low thatched cottage stop,

In the sooty chimney pop, 

 Where thy wife and family

Every evening wait for thee.