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Saturday 29th September 2018

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We’ve been loving having the dog back full time. It’s hard to believe it is a year ago that we were struggling with all that life was throwing at us and she was the straw dog that broke the camel’s back. But now we’re in a more settled place (though it’s still in the middle of a whirlwind) and we can enjoy this crazy mutt to the full.
This morning, for example, I came downstairs to find out she’d had diarrhoea all over her bedding in her cage. And that made for a fun start to the day, I can tell you. I don’t even care anymore. My job is to clean up shit and I have accepted that.
It was a bit of an inconvenience though as I was having to drive off to Oxfordshire to go on a lesson in foraging. It was a birthday gift from my wife, who had recognised my propensity to pick up fruit, sticks and stones lying around the countryside and channel that urge into something useful.
And what a great gift, because at the very least it's a definite subject for a blog. And these can be hard to think up.

I hadn’t known quite what to expect, but my best guess would be that an ex-army man in a flak jacket would be taking a group men who hoped they might be macho but who were a bit nerdy (Like Nick Frost in Spaced). As it turned out I was wrong. The man who was showing us how to forage was a spiritual ex-drug addict, who was now interested in getting to grips with nature and what we could learn from plants. And the other people were all a bit bit nerdy, but were a mixture of men and women.
There was enough science and history behind the hippy philosophy to make the morning educational as well as enjoyable, but the concentration was much more on stuff that you could use as herbs and spices than I had imagined and I did not leave with the knowledge of how to whip up a full meal from a dog walk in the woods. 
I am not sure I will be a forager. The plants all look a bit too much the same to me and there was an admitted danger of picking and eating the wrong thing and killing yourself. One of the plants he showed us was apparently very similar to hemlock and though he gave us some pointers as to how to tell the difference, I wasn’t convinced that the plant that looked like hemlock was worth the effort. 
But he did show us that we could eat Yew Tree berries, provided you didn’t ingest the seed (which would kill you). It was a sweet berry, but again, not convinced it was worth the risk.
But I did enjoy the morning and learning about how our ancestors found their own food and it was true that getting back to nature and looking at the plants around us that we just ignore, did make you take a step back and appreciate things on a new level. I might possibly have a go at harvesting nettles to put in other dishes, but I don’t think I’ll be making beech nut tea or jellies or jams made out of red berries that look like they should kill you. Mainly because I don’t trust myself enough to get it right and not kill myself and my family.
And I guess I was quite trusting that the man who was showing us round the forest was an expert who knew you could eat the leaves of a big daisy and not just a madman who wanted to wipe out a load of nerds who were stupid enough to believe you shouldn’t have to pay for food. So far so good. But I ate everything he told me to. With great foraging comes great responsibility.
I don't want to be a forager - it will impact on my stone-clearing work- but you can only discover your new hobby or vocation by giving something a go. And I haven't tried that enough in my life.
Most importantly it was a good seven hours of the day that I didn't have to do childcare or deal with a shitting dog. And aside from arranging a place where I can sleep for 24 hours, this is the greatest gift a wife can give her husband.


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