Road Kill

 

Daughters friend celebrates the Seasonal festive meal every year with what I presume is a roast pheasant. 

I’m told she has roadkill ,but can’t imagine there are any chickens on the rural ride following the Gypsey Race to Duggleby barrow from Boythorpe. Very occasionally one sees a badger or a fox, more often it is a pheasant, which straight after the kill is easily recognised by the tail feathers 90 degrees to the tarmac. 

I’m thankful for our turkey with legs from Adrian Colling, I do not have to draw and pluck it , as I used to watch my mother do with one of Mr Bastons chickens, or the pigeons and squabs (from Mr Christopher, ) often  still replete with shot. A couple of years ago I was offered a couple of hares, but couldn’t face skinning and drawing them, even though I know I could do it.These days I only dress Crabs, and even that pleasure is denied me now that our Filey fishmonger has closed his doors.

Mr Christopher 1961 Sutton in Holderness

I remembered to look through the jpegs of  the 35mm slides I digitalised years ago, throwing away hundreds and just keeping some family milestones. My father took hundreds of slides, and yet 60years on , the interesting ones are of people and buildings. Our education often consisted of talks on why Agfa was better than Kodak or Ektachrome, and years later as the Agfa slides are all blue, and the Kodak are all red, I know the use of photo editing software would have improved many an evening round the fire with the screen and projector. We were allowed to comment and criticise but father could not improve on his work, and used to bore us talking about fstops and timings. My sisters will remember all the times we stood on a ladder with our head in the Cherry Trees for him whilst he took ages to adjust his light meter.

He never took a photograph of Mr Baston whose smallholding backed our land. Infact I think Mr Baston sold us the acre near the road , of which we had one third, Mr Bruin one third and Mr Kirby the other third.  Mr Baston came up from the village every day to his pigs and chickens, and often the field was pasture  as well for the bullocks of the nearby farm .We loved being allowed to see the piglets when a sow had farrowed, after strict warnings about her demeanour. Here I record that Mr Christopher was a retired policeman , and came every week to cut the grass and tend the  large garden. He used to shoot , and bring us his surplus game. I rarely buy rabbit now after the memory of it .

I cooked our turkey Breast down as always, then turned over for the last hour. Family commented on how moist it was. I am writing my notes for next year in my Christmas book, almost 50 years of shopping lists and to do lists. 

The most useful page is the what to do next year list.

It says 

• do not  make much bread sauce as only Colin loves it
• do not buy any chocolate biscuits
• do not buy many "nibbles"
• Buy plenty of roasted pistachios in their shells however
• only 3 of us like Sprouts
• cooked red cabbage with Cyder Vinegar next year not balsamic, was much better

I leave you with a prospect of May , my first photo being December , views of my beloved Yorkshire Wolds.