Make that 2 bird books

I have a confession

I like looking at the birds in my garden! There I've said it...... I'm out of the closet..... I am a bird watcher..... Eeuuw

No I can't be.... I'm just a person who likes watching birds in my garden.

I suppose I should confess the other thing whilst I'm being this honest - I own a bird book too.

I'm sure that this would amuse my ex-husband immensely. I am not, however, about to become obsessive about the birds in my garden or form some nepotistic, hierarchical group that transforms a simple pleasure into something far more political and unpleasant. Sorry Mark, although it's highly unlikely that you will be reading this.

When the birds are so abundant and colourful it's hard not to look at them and appreciate their beauty and then it goes one step further and I found I wanted to know what that beautiful stripey noisy thing was so I bought a book. Beautiful stripey thing was in fact a female Asian Koel which is a cuckoo and was doing a typical cuckoo thing of trying to lay her egg in the nest of something far smaller and not remotely similar.

Which brings me to an issue that has puzzled me for a long time. Birds apparently imprint; whatever they see when they first peep out of the egg is imprinted as being the parent and birds generally don't go for interspecies breeding unless they are a duck or goose, who have no such qualms. So, if a cuckoo hatches in the nest of a wren for example, it believes its mother is a wren, it probably also believes that it too is a wren, how on earth does it ever get together with another cuckoo to perpetuate the species if it believes it is another bird entirely? Unless of course the other cuckoo was also brought up by a wren and is displaying similar behaviour etc so it's like being members of the same club..... Ah! I think I get it now.

I digress. Alarmingly I realised that I actually remembered the names of some of the birds from the trip in 1996 with Mark, subliminal learning or what!

I have now counted 32 different species of birds that frequent our garden, which I think is pretty awesome and it doesn't include all the little brown jobs that lurk in the undergrowth or the things that make strange noises in the jungle at dusk.

In the mornings I take my cup of coffee and biscuits out to my favourite rock and sit and watch all the life going on around me. It makes my mind still and brings me into the present moment. Nature always does that to me. It makes me realise that at times my mind is like an over-excited puppy chasing after thoughts as though they were balls and those thoughts are usually are of things that have long since passed or not even happened yet. It's actually very difficult to be in the now, but I find that watching the birds in my garden does help me to achieve that state. After all, nature is in the now! The Bulbuls who amuse me so much with their comical cries are totally oblivious to all the man-made chaos that is plaguing the human world right now. They aren't worrying about what is going to happen tomorrow; they are only interested in the papaya I have just laid out for them, it doesn't matter to them that there may not be papaya tomorrow - they have it today and that's enough.

So as I'm sitting there on my rock trying to get the puppy and ball under control I ask myself "Do I have enough for right now?" "Am I happy right now?" because the only moment that truly exists is this moment sat on my rock. I can always answer yes to those questions so I take a deep breath and relax and know that everything is OK.

I heard a wonderful quote in a movie, the name of which I've forgotten, but the quote lingered in my mind "Worry is interest paid on trouble before it comes due" ~William Ralph Inge

Anyway, it's time to don my anorak and go back to the birds and the book.

The mystery plant

I take after my Aunty Eileen in that I have started saving seeds from everything we use in the kitchen and then I throw them in to the garden or a planter so what will happen and then I forget about it.

A mysterious vine like plant appeared in one of my flower beds that provoked numerous discussions about its identity. I was convinced it was a grapevine, Mad Norman (not to be confused with the Mad German) thought it was a melon and Raja really didn't have a clue.

The plant must have taken exception to being accused of being a grape because the following day it produced a small yellow flower that ended all speculation. It is a cucumber plant that is now growing vigorously around a tree in the garden and is producing cucumbers faster than we can eat them.

The only problem is that there is a particular fly that also seems to love cucumbers and keeps impregnating them with its eggs UGH!

Now all my cucumbers are wearing condoms!

My garden

I love spending my time pottering around the garden. It has such lovely energy and everything feels so happy.

The lawn is actually what appears to be a type of clover. Raja took a few patches of it from somewhere in the village and has carefully nurtured it so that it has taken root and is spreading happily across the garden. The beauty of it is that it grows only horizontally and therefore will not need mowing or cutting.

We've managed to keep some of the original boulders that were so prominent when we first started work. They make great places to sit and the squirrels come to sip the water that lingers on them after we've watered all the plants.

With so much space available to me I'm trying to grow lots of different produce so that we can be self sufficient. I've succeeded with capsicum peppers, tomatoes, Pak Choi, spinach, rocket and cucumber so far. The most prolific of my efforts is basil which is running riot everywhere. It's just a shame that my culinary skills can't do all this amazing fresh produce justice; I've never really been interested in cooking - food is just a necessity to me and holds no thrills although I truly appreciate what others are able to conjure up in a kitchen - by the time I've prepared something I've usually lost interest in it. I made hummus the other day and by the time it was ready I'd got bored and two days later Rocky had it with his rice and curry.

So I'm surrounded by all this wonderful fragrant basil and I really have no idea what to do with it. Polite suggestions most welcome!

Please!

Progress on the house

This is what I came back to in February this year. The top slab had been laid whilst I was in England.

It was still hard to envision it as a home, but at this stage the majority of the mega jobs had been completed. The clearing and preparation of the land before we could even start laying foundations had been mammoth and stressful jobs.

Work started again at the end of April and by August this is what the house looked like. We have a huge bedroom, bathroom, awesome balcony and an amazing kitchen. The living room extends to the left of the photo behind the trees, but we've not started this part yet.

I don't actually miss having a living room as the garden is just such a wonderful place to be in and there are so many different places to sit. I can choose if I want to daydream at the sea to the front or the mountains at the back.

My beautiful boy Rocky

He's so handsome! Now a year old and still a big baby. He just doesn't realise how big and strong he has become.

He still rides on the foot plate of the scooter as though it is the most natural thing in the world for a Rottweiler to do although he does look rather comical.

Swimming in the ocean is an activity he only undertakes out of loyalty and an overwhelming urge to save my life. He doesn't realise that lurching at me and trying to cling to me whilst I'm in 5ft of water is possibly quite detrimental to my safety so I've now learned to swim just beyond his reach and thereby avoid all the welts.

A bundle of fluff and attitude

This was Rocky last year when we first brought him home. My god, I'd forgotten how much work a puppy was, especially a Rotty who are just so full of attitude. Sleeping times were bliss

I wanted to call him Rommel, but this seemed to present a problem to Sri Lankans who were unable to pronounce it. So one night me and Raja discussed alternatives that he and others would be able to say easily and we came up with Rocky. Fortunately we chose not to be inspired by what was on TV at the time or he would have been called Zorro. Lucky dog, lucky me not having to shout that out.

Dawn meditation

Most mornings this individual sits on the top branches of the Kitul tree which is level with our balcony and gazes out to sea . I often wonder what he's thinking about and resign myself to the fact that it probably involves how to eat all the leaves on my papaya trees before he's spotted by Rocky.

What on earth is Britain doing?

I don't understand economics a great deal, but I understand enough to know that Britain is in a huge mess as is the rest of the world by all accounts.

One year ago the exchange rate for British pounds to Sri Lankan rupees was 225, today it's down to 164. I'm sure it's the same for every other forgein currency.

What on earth are the governing institutions playing at?

Another question is - Where has all the money gone to? Somebody must be sitting on it somewhere. Or is it as I have suspected all along that it doesn't really exist and it's just numbers that are transferred between computers. How many people actually use real money these days anyway?

Little did I know

It's over 2 years since I came out to Sri Lanka and this month it will be 2 years since a very shy young man invited me to see the sunrise from his land sitting on the foundations of his house.

Little did I know at that moment that the concrete square we perched on would become the foundation for our bedroom floor and that this special place where I saw my first sunrise would ultimately become my home.

Raja's dream

This is what Raja dreamed of for our home. A scetch on a scrap piece of paper was his only plan. He took that dream and that plan in his head and he built it.

Well, half of it at least. We've not got around to filling in the walls for the living room yet, but the rest of it is there.

Because of what he has achieved and manifested I never tell him he can't have the things he dreams about. Two years ago his dream was just a concrete square in a jungle; now it's becoming a beautiful home surrounded by an apparently abundant garden.

The dream taking shape

The mad German next door

My neighbour is a German woman of advancing years with questionable dress sense and bad highlights. I'm no follower of fashion or trend setter, but I hope that I'm blessed with a little more dignity than to put myself in a situation where I might be accused of being "mutton". Do some people really not look in the mirror!

Her boyfriend is considerably younger than her and whilst I am aware that I am standing in a glass house as I'm casting this stone their age gap is somewhat more yawning than that between me and Raja.

There have been many occasions when she has done something spiteful just to put a spanner in our construction works and she has successfully upset a number of local people, but her latest feat takes some beating.

Above her piece of land runs our access road and there are 3 pieces of land that sit along it. All of them DID have nice views of the bay. That was until the Mad German built The Wall. It runs across the top of her land and stops at our gate columns. In most places it is over 6 foot high and for the people that occupy the 2 sections of land next to us all they now have is a view of concrete breeze blocks and a sliver of ocean above it. In addition to that she has had two rows of rusty nails cemented into the top of the wall.

Now, I realise that it might appear to be a justifiable security measure; we are after all living in a remote part of the village surrounded by jungle. The perplexing things is that she has not continued with this theme along her other boundary next to which runs a public footpath. On this boundary she has erected a wire net fence.

I'm trying to fathom the logic of this move because it surely can't be a security consideration; if I were intent on breaking into her property I wouldn't bother with The Wall and risk breaking a limb climbing it, I'd just go and cut a hole in the fence.

Maybe she has a phobia about squirrels and the rusty nails are a deterrent against these acrobatic fiends - I actually like squirrels a lot.

Sadly I think her motives for building such a monstrosity are to rob other people of natures beautiful view and keep it for herself. I intend to find the most virulent climbing weed in the jungle and plant it behind the wall so that at least our other neighbours don't have to look at concrete.

More Wall

Another view of The Wall.

In the foreground is Raja and his team erecting our gates, which are as high as they look - 7ft! We have to fill the road with earth otherwise as the threshold is currently 3ft above ground level.

They are also surrounding the otherwise bland concrete columns with boulders that have been collected from the jungle.

Counting sleeps

As of today I'm 36 sleeps away from my visit to England for Christmas. I'm so excited, but I have to confess that it also feels a little bit peculiar to be so excited about leaving my life here for a couple of months especially to head back to England. I tell myself that it's normal to get excited about going on holiday, but I always get a little nervous about stepping out of the wardrobe and leaving Narnia for a while; it's also weird that England has become the holiday destination.

Still, I've been out here for nearly 10 months and I'm desperate to see my family and friends and to have time in my own culture for a while.

There are so many things to look forward to about the trip:

My dear friend Andy waiting for me at the airport - he's going to get verbal diarrhoea all the way from Heathrow to Horsley.

KFC with Andy at the motorway services - it will stem the flow of the verbal diarrhoea for a while. Poor Andy.

Arriving at Mum & Dad's and giving them a huge hug.

Seeing Sally & Chris, Martin, Vik and Maddy and Roger again. Lots and lots of hugs

Seeing all my lovely friends - more hugs.

Spending Christmas day surrounded by my family.

(I think I'm going to need lots of tissues too)

Sleeping under a duvet.

Eating cheese - Extra mature English Cheddar

Drinking fresh milk.

Lamb chops.

Dad's salad for lunch.

Snoozing in front of the TV in the afternoon after Dad's salad.

Shopping - can't wait to see the Westfield Centre all decked out for Christmas. Am I too old to visit Santa?

Finding clothes that fit; I'm the equivalent of Gulliver in Sri Lanka.

Drinking beer in a pub.

Drinking red wine.

Lots of chocolate.

Starbucks latte.

Birds cream cakes (oh god I'm going to put weight on)

Going for walks in frosty maybe snowy countryside.

Sunday mornings at the layby.

Fish and chips in Matlock Bath even though the biking season is over.

Real sausages with baked beans and baked potatoes. Oh I'm so hungry now. (Baked beans are a luxury item here, can you believe they are nearly £1.50 for a tin of normal Heinz beans!!)

Fish finger sandwiches.

And here's a weird one - being surrounded by tall, white, English speaking people.

Supermarkets - last time I was there I could wander round Tescos and Sainsburys in a dreamlike state of wonder. You have to experience shopping in Sri Lanka to understand that fascination.

The list is possibly endless and it takes being away from all of those things to appreciate them so much more. The long absence makes me appreciate how much I love and miss my family too. Can't wait to see them.

Surprise Surprise

My lovely friend Bec sent me a text inviting me for a girls lunch in Hikaduwa on 16th October and added that she wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. It's not unusual for us to occasionally head out of Unawatuna for some 'girl time' so I happily agreed.
So when the day arrived we took a tuktuk up to Hikaduwa and went to the Amaya Reef. It looks quite nice from the outside and as you walk through reception you are greeted with a view of a lovely pool edged with palm trees and beyond that the ocean. However, when you look back at the rooms you notice that it has a tired look about it. The patios and balconies are furnished with a couple of uncomfortable looking metal chairs and that's it. I think that if I had paid to stay there as part of a package holiday I would have been very disappointed. But as a venue for lunch with the girls it was OK, after all it was the company that was most important.

We sat awaiting the arrival of our other friends and I had taken a seat that gave me a view of the pool and the entrance to the hotel, for no particular reason other than I hate having my back to open spaces (and OK, I like to see what is going on and who is moving around - I guess it's my police nature). Then I noticed a man entering the pool area and I recall idly thinking "he looks like Chris". Chris being my brother-in-law. I don't think that my brain really registered it; it's not unusual for me to draw comparisons between people especially if I squint and put my head on one side - I could see similarities between anybody. Just as I was musing over this similarity to my brother-in-law my little sister appeared behind him.

I'm not sure, but maybe my jaw did actually drop in surprise and I think that everybody around the hotel heard my exclamation "F**k, it's my sister" at which point I bolted out of my chair to engulf her in a massive hug.

It truly was the most incredible surprise of my life and I keep replaying that moment when I first saw them. I don't think that Cilla Black could have done better.

Sally had contacted Bec through Facebook to find a way to surprise me. So huge huge thanks to Bec for agreeing to take part... I know it was quite a fraught week wondering how I would react. I don't think my reaction could possibly have been anything other than overwhelming joy.