Cherryburn

photo(1)The winter months (which were a bit of a blogging hiatus!) saw our toddler turn two and reach a number of important new milestones, some fun (first ever fancy dress party), and some not so fun  (first ever vomiting bug).  Sadly neither of these are available to tick off in his little yellow book, which I have been looking through in preparation for our “two year check” with the health visitor later this week.   It does seem, though, like his language skills are on track – he can, for example, get his daddy in trouble by giving a fairly detailed account of the time he fell off the bottom step and bumped his head while mammy was out, and this week we have seen a new linguistic development, of which my poor husband became victim again: the lie.

“Daddy watch the big bad wolf on the telly. Daddy was scared” he announced the other day.

“Really?”  I said.  “Weren’t you scared of the big bad wolf?”

“No. Daddy cry. Henry cuddle Daddy and make it better”.

photoLuckily our son’s bravery in the face of scary animals was rewarded when we arrived at the exhibition room at Cherryburn, a National Trust property near Mickley which opened its door this weekend after the winter break.  Here a range of taxidermy creatures were on display and the fox and the owl proved particularly fascinating. The room houses artifacts that once belonged to one of the region’s most famous artists and naturalists, Thomas Bewick.  From the exhibition room we moved on to the picnic area, which has gorgeous views over the Tyne Valley, and where our sandwiches and crisps proved to be very tempting to Cherryburn’s three resident chickens, perhaps some of the friendliest poultry you are ever likely to meet.  They tried to survey the contents of my handbag, pecked at our son’s shoelaces, and greeted each new visitor to the gardens with frantic clucking and wing-flapping.  No sooner had we finished our lunch when they were jumping on the picnic table hoovering up the crumbs we had left.  After that we looked around Bewick’s house, played with a hoola hoop on the sunny lawn, checked in the “poultiggery” for eggs and, in a rather rudimentary homage to Bewick’s artistic legacy, had a go at potato printing on the courtyard.

photo(3)In the print room, local artist and photographer Shona Branigan was demonstrating  wood block printing, a messy, slow and ardous process – seeing the cumbersome apparatus in action will make me pause for thought next time I’m about to hit the printer at work for not producing a 100 page document quick enough.

Although one of the smaller of the North East’s NT properties, Cherryburn was at once hive of activity and an incredibly tranquil place to escape.    Back at home, we discussed our first proper day out of the new year – the views, the printing, the lovely weather and the slightest hint that perhaps, spring is on the way.  But all Henry could talk about was those chickens.  “Chickens come and eat ALL of Henry’s food”, he told his toys.  “And drink ALL of Henry’s drink”, he continued, as my husband and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows.  And with a doe-eyed glance, a bow of the head and a mournful, heartbreaking pout, he concluded his tall tale: “And Henry had NOTHING to eat or drink!.  Poor Henry!”.  Oh dear.   Let’s hope this latest milestone is a fleeting one, and he has grown out of it by the time the health visitor comes…photo(4)

Kirkley Hall Zoological Gardens

Animals.  A year ago I could take them or leave them.  But since my one year old son has started to show an interest in the world beyond breast milk and banging blocks together, animals have taken over my world.  Every bedtime story features one; every cuddly toy is an approximation of another.  I beam with pride when my son adds another animal gesture to his repertoire (he has perfected the monkey armpit motion but the butterfly flutter still defeats him).  My husband and I guffaw inanely at each other’s animal noises.  He does a good lion’s roar but admits my boa constrictor hiss is better than his. An authentic elephant trumpet eludes us both.  With this in mind, imagine our glee when we discovered that the nearby agricultural college, Kirkley Hall, has opened a Zoological Gardens within its grounds.

We have been meaning to visit for a while, but this week spring seems to have sprung and we heard that KHZG were running a lambing weekend, where entrance to the gardens also included an opportunity to see new lambs being born.  Enough time has passed since my own experience of childbirth that this was not an entirely horrifying prospect, so we headed off early on Sunday morning.

What a treat!  The “zoo” is accessible and clearly laid out.  Our son was fascinated by the range of animals on show.  Our friendly and knowledgeable guide took us round the gardens which featured pygmy goats, lemurs, Cameroon sheep and meerkats (at which point every dad in the vicinity adopted a bad Russian accent).  Free range birds, including flighty guinea fowls and animated chickens, roam the paths between the enclosures.  A reptile house accommodates smaller, scalier creatures and an enormous aviary provides lodgings for a huge variety of birds.  Animals aren’t my thing, remember, but I couldn’t help be fascinated as our tour guide explained the creatures on show.  Who knew that a newborn wallaby was only an inch long?  Or that eagle owls eat 35 chicks a day?  The highlight for me however was the marmosets.  Only something within the upper echelons of cuteness could make my voice go that high and squeaky.

At the end of the tour we were deposited at the lambing shed. The poor old ewes, heavy with twins or triplets, paced and groaned and twitched in fatigue, contributing to my impression that this place wasn’t too different from a human labour ward.  The new born lambs, skittish, slippery and unsteady, were unspeakably sweet and certainly helped us get in the mood for Easter, just a week away.

We were satisfied afterwards by the basic but tasty fare in the Orangery cafe. So, KHZG was a big hit, and we will certainly be back in the future to enjoy some more of the guided walks and exhibits.  We returned home buoyed by the challenge of more animal noises to master.  Anyone know how to squawk like a guinea fowl?