Are You A Have? Or A Have-not? - Wednesday 11/05/11

Land is power. Those without it do not have power. This is a fact. "He who has the means of production has power". Land = means of production.

Attended another committee meeting today. Just as well too. Flicking through the agenda, I noticed the following.
"Hunting, fishing and firearms - following complaint from Su [previous landowner and neighbour] about hunting and fishing in the woods. PW"

This was most interesting. Obviously this issue was concerning my recent activities, as no one else here at Lammas hunts or fishes except me.
I don't own a firearm, they require a firearms certificate. I own a sub 12ft/lbs air rifle. The first inaccuracy...

Following this item was point 8.21 of the management plan labelled 'for reference'. "Hunting in common areas is not permitted. The committee is empowered to make an exception when it is deemed absolutely necessary for pest control. Any such activities on residents plots must be in accordance with current laws and regulations. JW"

My first thought was to explain to the group where I had been hunting. It wasn't the woods, there's nothing there! But I realised how vague the item was. There was no elaboration on the complaint, which made me question if indeed there was one. Paul W, the very person who put the item on the agenda, admitted that no, no complaint had been made at all. Merely a question had been asked of him by Su as to whether I was allowed to hunt/fish in the Lammas woodland...
Glad I asked! Still, the others present voiced their concerns over my fishing in the millpond. Jane said she had felt "upset and disappointed" when she heard I'd caught a fish and Melissa believed it best the fish be left for an otter that had occasionally been sighted.
20 fish were added a year and a half ago, so assuming they were infertile and none perished, there are 17 left. I had already decided to give the fish a break, but have now been formally asked not to fish for an undefined period.

I find it all very amusing.
So here we have the haves and the have-nots.
The haves do not. When the have-nots do, the haves ask the have-nots to do not.
Because the have-nots have not, the have-nots have no choice but to do not.

Land is power. The Barons knew it. The Kings knew it. Civilisations knew it.

Governments know it.

7:19 And the LORD spake unto Moses, Say unto Aaron, Take thy rod, and stretch out thine hand upon the waters of Egypt, upon their streams, upon their rivers, and upon their ponds, and upon all their pools of water, that they may become blood; and that there may be blood throughout all the land of Egypt, both in vessels of wood, and in vessels of stone.

The Builders Of The Hub Posing For A Group Photograph.

Magpie Decoy.

M Jones

I Choose Not Fear - Saturday 07/05/11

Emma's mother Dianne arrived last night to visit for the weekend. We ate dinner, went for a walk around at dusk and stayed up until 23:00 chatting.
Today we utilised her insured car and showed her our haunts. Namely Cardigan town and Poppit Sands.
Whilst mooching with Fran (I made the excellent suggestion of splitting up, pre-empting the possibility of shoe shopping) she revealed that she had been given ten pounds by Em's mum to reimburse her for the money stolen from her by the foster boy living with Dianne. She had left her purse at my parents after our last visit. My parents had then posted it to Dianne knowing she would be coming here to visit. This foster boy found it, and relieved it of its contents. The second occurrence. Him and a 'girl friend' stole mothers day gifts made by Frances and intended for my mother.
My feelings towards this delinquent disturb me. In less than a month, circumstance will force us to share a roof. My inclination is currently to smack the bastard and issue some of the discipline he obviously yearns for.
But it's not my place.
Plus, it would be in contravention of my personal moral code to cause no harm, injury or loss to any other being. Some would say it better to direct ones efforts to ensuring he never is presented with the opportunity to steal from us. Lock doors. Surveillance. Ultimately, live in fear. Distrust. What modern society is founded upon, and the weapon with which our government chooses to govern.
My approach will be to confront the issue, state my grievance to the little bugger and hopefully stamp it out. A "you know, I know, you know I'm watching you".

The fact is, physical assault is tiring and if you use your hands, it can cause aches. I'm a lover not a fighter.

My Webley, loaded with SMK Spitfires took another victim this evening. A young Magpie. He flew across my path and momentarily settled in a tree on my left. He then flitted off and alighted at the top of another as I dropped to my knee. Range approximately 30-40 yards. Aimed half a mil-dot above his head. Breathed. Fired. He jumped at the crack right into the path of the pellet. Head shot. When I got to him, the final twitches of nerves animated his legs and beak. Another close range mercy shot ensured his spirits exit.
I might not be a fighter, but I am a hunter. This quarry is in fact edible. Research recommends soaking the breast meat of older birds in milk overnight. This bird, like the pigeon, will be a decoy, then i'll sample his breast.
My expectations are not high. without soaking, magpies are said to taste like "fishy, chewy chicken".

M Jones

The Most Important of Gifts - Thursday 05/05/11

Yesterday I made some new friends. Zhenia, Xavier, Cai, Abbey and Mark, who stayed with Simon and Jasmine during their time at Lammas. A fact finding mission I believe, but each with their own curiosity.
From what I could gleen, Mark was most interested in how Lammas came into being and observe it in action as, like many others who visit, he wishes to found another intentional community. The difference with Mark however is, I believe he will actually do it. You can tell who is a do'er and who is a wishy washy dreamer.. (like me?)
Xavier has visited before at various stages of development and is an avid admirer of Simon's buildings and philosophies. I see great similarities between these two men. Both are very connected to the design and graphics industry, both are admirers and see beauty in their environment. This is betrayed by a shared love of photography. I feel it is this that drives such men to work with, and endeavour to conserve nature and the world around them. Both men are also wonderful to talk to, unassuming and genuine. I appear to reside in a distillery for rare and precious human qualities!
I think Cai and Abbey had a very broad and general interest in the whole project. To say they were just in it for the ride I feel would be inaccurate.
Zhenia, it transpires hails from Stroud! He told me he was employed in the research and development of vertical axis wind turbines, so I guess his was an environmental interest. Will hopefully see him again and catch up with him when we return to Stroud.

All this I learned through working and relaxing with these guys over two days. Mark was easy to connect with, this was down to both his open and friendly personality, as well as my having read his book The Moneyless Man: A Year of Freeconomic Living. This gave us common ground and enabled us to talk at length whilst digging pits for fence posts. His companions were equally as open and likeable and I hope to work with them all again in the future.

The morning of their departure, they brought and left us with the most important of gifts. No, not a copy of Marks book (although it is an important read) but rain. Much needed and strangely missed. Some would say Wales isn't Wales without it!

So thanks guys!

Thank you for your stories.
Thank you for your labour.
Thank you for bringing life back to the soil.
And thank you for restoring a countries identity.

Simon's Recently Completed Solar Water Heater.

M Jones

Sharing The Wealth- Tuesday 03/05/11

04:49 : Up and out to walk the rifle.
07:15 : Back for a coffee.
07:30 : Scythed the orchard.
08:25 : Coffee.
09:10 - 11:15 : During my coffee I learnt how to range find using my mil-dot scope. Set about measuring my shooting range. Happy to find the formula and my calculations worked and were accurate.
The theory is this:

You take a measurement of your target. This was 3". This needs to be converted to yards, so divide that by 36". Divide 1000 by how many mil-dots the sight picture spans/covers. For me, the circle sat snugly on the first mil-dot. So one. Divide the factor of magnification by 10, and tag that on the end of the equation and my sum looks like this.

(3"/36")*(1000/1)*.4 = 33.3 yards.

By measuring, not pacing 25 yards, I revealed why my range finding was so bad. I hadn't previously realised how big a yard was. Roughly 90cm. This also meant that I'd vastly underestimated the effective killing distance of the rifle.
40/50 yards is a fair old way and makes for a lot less stalking.

13:30 - 18:00 : Went a-fishing. Caught a medium brown trout. Gave that to Nick as a trade for the pellets he gifted to me. Later I caught a small Rainbow Trout. Had he had not been such a greedy beggar and swallowed the whole hook I would've been able to throw him back. The damage done meant it was kinder to end his life with a sharp tap on the head. A shiver down to the tail and he was gone. He became a gift for Simon and Jasmine who are expecting a visit from Mark Boyle (author of The Moneyless Man: A Year of Freeconomic Living) later today. Thought the trout would be a nice touch... plus I'm very much aware it is not my millpond so it's only right to share the wealth. If anything it's labour saving, as by giving everyone a fish. I don't have to re-describe ours was!

19:00 : Walked the rifle. Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. Was fine by me. I was pooped and nature had already provided more than enough food for my family.

21:00 : Bed

Small Rainbow Trout.

Medium Brown Trout.

M Jones

Dog Gun - Monday 02/05/11

Despite the forecast, no rain has fallen. The broad beans are yellowing and the ground is solid and cracked. No dawn patrol for me this morning. Last night and most of the day today was very windy. The strong squalls creating challenging shooting conditions and heightening the risk of wounding, not killing my quarry. So I had a lie in.
Late afternoon, whilst Emma and Fran were visiting the beach at Mwnt, I re-zeroed my rifle and sampled some of Nicks pellets. He had a mixture of RWS Superdome 14.4gr and Webley Accupells. These performed far better than the cheap SMK Spitfires I've been using. Decent pellets are around £10 for a tin of 500. My knock around Spitfires are £4. Great if like me, you just need to line the rifle's barrel and get it to 'settle in'.
With the Raider zeroed at 40 yards to the new pellets (Nick very kindly gifted me the tin!) I went off for my evening hunt. This time I saw two rabbits. I did everything by the book, even crawling to get as close as possible. And still missed. Afterwards I took a practice shot and found it was I, not the rifle at fault. I was too close. If I had correctly gauged the range, I would've known I'd have needed to aim a mil-dot down and not use the cross hairs. The rifle's accuracy was good and is improving rapidly with these quality pellets. So with practice and experience, hopefully my marksmanship will improve too.
I have chosen to view these situations and occurrences as lessons I have to learn, not as a success or failure. It is becoming quite clear that if I were to get dejected and negative then I may as well sell my rifle. Hunting is not easy. Walking slowly and quietly is easier and I am very much enjoying it. I try with each trip to recce somewhere new, and in so doing have discovered a few hidden and/or overlooked gems. The scenery is beautiful so whether or not the game bag is full, I always enjoy myself.
It's a bit like having a dog in that respect. An excuse to wander about aimlessly.

My 'Hunters Map'.

M Jones

Proud Mr Fox - Saturday 30/04/11

The floodgates are wide open. The unstoppable force of life is overflowing all around. It started in the hedgerows and trees, and yesterday welcomed more amongst the birds and animals. A volunteers cat gave birth to a litter of healthy kittens, and six goslings emerged from their island on the millpond. Of course there has to be a balance. There is old age, natural selection and Lady Luck to contend with. My air rifle and I are near bottom of the list of threats. There are far more efficient and prolific hunters than I abroad.
This evening, whilst camouflaged under the dense foliage of a hawthorn bush waiting for a rabbit I'd seen the previous night to appear, not one, but two wood pigeons landed in the tree above. Unable to thread a pellet through the twigs and branches, I eased my way way out until I had a clear view of a feathery backside. Completely undetected, I winced as lifted the bolt and slid it forward. Click. They fixed their gaze upon me in an instant and froze.
Committed now, I completed the action. Clunk. They buggered off.
The moral of the story? Once in position, make ready your weapon, that is, put a round in the chamber. Cheers pigeons for that lesson.
An hour later the light was fading fast, my arse was numb and I dared not allow blood back to my lower leg for fear of the crippling revenge my body would take.
It was then I heard movement. Behind me. As I turned my head, it stopped in its tracks barely five feet away. A very happy and healthy looking fox. In his jaws the very thing I was after. A rabbit. You cunning git. He was stunned. Almost a "why the hell are you hiding under there?" expression on his face. A retreat to a safe distance the a "you'll never catch rabbits doing that" look.
You deserve to be proud Mr Fox.
So the cycle is completed. More life, more death. I'm very grateful I'm top of the food chain around here.

Prior to my evening hunt, I spent a solid day scything a spiral in Kits field. Hard but extremely rewarding and therapeutic work. Helped me get the knack for it that's for sure.

Geese And Goslings.

A BBQ Hosted By The Hub Volunteers. A Community Within A Community.

M Jones

The Cautious Corvid - Thursday 28/04/11

I woke again at 05:00 and used the opportunity for a hunt. I made a circuit through the woodland with a missed opportunity on a pigeon. The only other targets were crows but they were extremely wise and evacuated once they were alerted to my presence.
But never relax when hunting. As I was returning I heard a close by pigeon call.
I inched my way around a bush until I spied the source, who luckily was within range. Unable to take a head shot due to the drifting twigs and branches I hit him with a fatal heart and lung shot. Within seconds the Raider was reloading a 'just to be sure' close range head shot and completed a very clean despatch. My first wild trophy! (Not counting the trout of course).
It's times like this when my ego balloons and I ask myself who here at Lammas is living more off the land than I, a lowly volunteer? The only person to currently be fishing and hunting.

First Blood For The Webley Raider 10 XS .22

Trying My Hand At Scything.

The Circle Of Life.

Whilst out for an evening hunt, I asked the crow; "Why are you such a distrustful, cautious corvid?" This was his reply:

"Years ago, mankind, the animals and the Earth were bound by the most sacred of vows. This oath was simple. The Earth promised to nourish and sustain all the life that was brought forth on its surface. Mankind and the other animals likewise promised to worship and respect life and be mindful that it was a gift to be held in trust for the next spirit.

Mankind, the animals and Earth existed in harmony, often communing with each other. There was no fear. When it came time for man or animal to eat, the hungry went out and asked for those who were ready to come forward, to give up their life as freely as they were given it, and in so doing complete the cycle and live on.
When man was cold, he would go out and find a tree that had finished and released its life, or ask for those who were ready. Often in these days, animals would share man's fire.

Overseeing all this was the crow and his kind. Their role was a special one. Sometimes it would come to pass that animals would die, their spirits needing to be guided to the next life as their bodies had not, or could not, nourish anything else. The crow would gather up these lost souls and ensure the cycle continued.

And so it was for millennia.

Until mankind changed. Man forgot his promise. Man began to take more than his share from the Earth. Man stole what was never intended for him. Jewels and stones hidden away and hard to reach. Man no longer worshipped life. He began to take it from the animals. Even from his own kind. Never asking permission or giving thanks to those that nourished him.
When once all men, birds and animals existed together in harmony, now each hid, ran from, and feared the other. Quickly, man eradicated the animals who once requested the life he now called and claimed as, his own. He developed ways to stall and put off the day he returned his gift of life until he lived for longer and longer than ever before.
Man's young, seeing and learning, continued and exacerbated the damage his elders were causing.

Things were no longer harmonious.

The Earth's love for man was so great, she forgave his early crimes. But she realised, like all good mothers, if her creations continued to break and ignore holy and sacred codes then repercussions must follow and lesson taught. So with her infinite love, she is no longer following her promise. She is not vindictive. She is not cruel. If we would simply return to the ways of our enlightened ancestors, she will nourish and sustain and forgive. Given time, perhaps the animals might also forgive mankind for his crimes.

Until then, the corvids remain cautious.
Always watching. Waiting. From a distance.

M Jones

My Moby Dick - Tuesday 26/04/11

This was to be a completely surreal day. Perhaps my body knew it would be and was so excited it wouldn't let me sleep. I rose at 04:45 and decided to go a-hunting. Took a very long walk about, which culminated in me locating and subsequently scaring off 3-4 rabbits. Upon my weary return, I knew I would have nothing to lose if I went a-fishing.
To my shock and surprise, I cast out my line only 3 times when I got a bite. Nothing could have prepared me for the amazement at the size of the monster on my hook. A brown trout weighing 1lb 14oz and 1/8th. A sharp tap on the back of my quarry's head and he was despatched. Albeit with an eye bulging from its socket.
My primordial task was concluded and fulfilled for the day. I returned home filled with pride and elation. This beast of the depths would feed my entire family.
After announcing my accomplishment to all those who would listen, I passed out on the couch.

Slightly re-energised by my siesta, I went for a wander and returned to find Emma chatting to Helen, a videographer, documenting Lammas on behalf of Undercurrents.
Of course, she was next to be regaled with the tale of my Moby Dick! And off she went.

Then she came back. Through talking to Jasmine, she discovered I wrote a blog and had published it as a book and sensed a story. So I did a very enjoyable interview with her, talking about the above and our time here as volunteers. I am very grateful indeed to her for her time and for thinking of me.

The rest of the day I spent tinkering with lawnmowers before we had dinner. I fried the trout in olive oil after leaving it soaking in salt water for 6-8 hours. I had foraged some Wood Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella) in the day which complimented the fish beautifully.
Now, my taste buds will be biased, but everyone who tasted it agreed that that trout was some of the best fish ever eaten. A thick meaty texture only wild game has, with a beautiful rich flavour gained from an equally wild and organic diet (Nick found a newt in its stomach!).

Incredible day. I slept well that's for sure!

The Catch Of The Day

Bulgy Eye - Felt Disrespectful, But I Found It Rather Comical.

The Usual Fishermans Pose.

Ready For The Pan

Cuisine Worthy Of The Finest Restaurant.

M Jones