Expecting the Unexpected

In the beginning, coppicing was what we had been expecting to do today.  Coppicing was what the site managers were expecting us to be doing today.  Down at a water-meadow beside the Thames.

Then it turned out that someone had already done the coppicing without the management team knowing.  Fortunately, there would be plenty else for us to do on site.  First: clear the fire site – very carefully, so as not to offend hibernating wildlife.  For, as is well known, dormice at this time of year are asleep.

“I wasn’t asleep,” it said in a hoarse, feeble voice.  “I heard every word you fellows were saying.”

“Tell us a story!” said the March Hare.

“Yes, please do!” pleaded Alice.

“And be quick about it,” added the Hatter, “or you’ll be asleep again before it’s done.”

“Once upon a time, there were three little sisters,” the Dormouse began in a great hurry: “and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well –”

“What did they live on?” said Alice.

“They lived on treacle,” said the Dormouse, after thinking for a minute or two.

“They couldn’t have done that, you know,” Alice gently remarked.  “They’d have been ill.”

“So they were,” said the Dormouse; “very ill.”

– “But why did they live at the bottom of a well?”

The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, “It was a treacle well.”

“There’s no such thing!” Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went “Sh! Sh!”  [Ed: actually there is.  ‘Treacle well’ is the old name given to a source where the water was reputed to be of medicinal value.  Meanwhile, Alice promised not to interrupt again, and …] he consented to go on: “And so these three little sisters – they were learning to draw, you know –”

“What did they draw?” said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.

“Treacle,” said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.

Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: “But I don’t understand.  Where did they draw the treacle from?”

“You can draw water out of a water-well,” said the Hatter; “so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well.”

– “But they were in the well.”

“Of course they were,” said the Dormouse: “well in.”

This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.

“They were learning to draw,” the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; “and they drew all manner of things – everything that begins with an M–”

“Why with an M?” said Alice.

“Why not?” said the March Hare.

Alice was silent.

The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: “– that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness – you know you say things are ‘much of a muchness’ – did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness!”

“Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much confused, “I don’t think –”

“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.

This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust and walked off: the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going.  The last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.”

from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, ch VII ‘A Mad Tea-Party’ – Lewis Carroll

Then, a big burn-up of brash and old meadow arisings.  Also: clear up old tree guards; and – weather permitting – sand down and varnish benches.

Weather did not permit.   This was the scene at the main Anne-Carpmael trust site this morning:

"Candlemas Bells"

The snow cover precluded any work on the water meadow.   No problem, we thought: just relocate the session to that venue, ping out an email (for on snow days Green-Gymmers know to stand by their computers), and it’ll be business as usual.

Then the email went down.

Thankfully, only one person fetched up at the original RV point, and he quickly realised it might be a good idea to go to Anne-Carpmael Trust HQ, and find us there.

At the main site, it was countryside work as usual.  And the task was … coppicing and burning brash.  So one or two Green-Gymmers did, after all, get to do the actual sawing bit of the job …

 while colleagues worked on building a fire (without having first of all to take care of somnolent dormice):

It would normally be a matter of delight that we finish a task by knocking-off time.  This week we were especially keen to finish promptly, because today was our ‘Christmas’ bash – only one day after the end of the ecclesiastical season of Christmastide.

What people having a quiet pint in their local pub made of the group which was cheerily wishing one another “Merry Christmas!” toasting the New Year, and generally enjoying the wondrous conversations which arise spontaneously wherever two or three Green-Gymmers are gathered together, I do not know.

Answers to some of the questions which arose are as follows:

The uniform of which public school features yellow socks?

Answer: Christ’s Hospital, aka Bluecoats School.  The uniform is provided free of charge.

Is a physalis fruit the same as a Cape Gooseberry?

Answer is yes: the physalis peruviana is also known as a Ground Cherry, and is related to the tomato.

Is a physalis the same as a persimmon?

No, a persimmon is one of the Diospyros family.  Ebony comes from another species in that family.

Is it an offence to clink glasses when drinking in Hungary? 

I can find no evidence that there is any law against the practice.  There are a great many varying stories in circulation.  For example:

• Some people contend that it is not illegal – just bad manners – in Hungary to toast with beer (as opposed to wine or spirits), supposedly because during the 1848 revolution Austrian soldiers were given a beer for every Magyar soldier they killed.
• Others maintain that it is the clinking of glasses, irrespective of the contents, which is considered offensive (but not illegal), supposedly because during said war of 1848-49, Austrian soldiers toasted their victory with much clinking of glasses – or more specifically, clinked beer glasses as the Hungarian generals were executed in 1849 – and Hungarians vowed never to do that again for another 150 years.  (Clink glasses, that is, rather than abstain from fighting for independence, or drinking beer.)
• Other (Hungarian) people say they have never heard of this.

In any case it is more than 150 years since the 1848 uprising.  Egészségedre!