Best Beloved and I often find struggling bumblebees on garden pathways and the lawn. They may be exhausted by flying in the wind, have worked too hard without rest or refreshment, they may be sick, or even too cold. (If their wings are ragged, they may simply be very old.)
The quickest way to revive a struggling bumblebee is with a sugary solution. (Never a honey solution, though. Bees can catch viruses if they eat honey from other hives.)
While enjoying a lovely spot of tea outside at Syke Farm Tearoom, BB and I took note of a large bumblebee’s drunken descent to our table. When it landed, it remained immobile.
Emergency rations were called for. A handy sugar cube with a couple of drops of water was quickly administered.
Ms. Bumble liked it.
She liked it very much!
Why do we think she’s a female? Well, she’s a White-tailed Bumblebee. White-tailed queens and workers have a pure white tail and two lemon-yellow bands. The males have more yellow hair on the abdomen, and yellow tufts on the head and face. Males have longer antennae, too.
When she’d lapped up her fill, Ms. Bumble took it upon herself to make friends with BB.
She climbed up and had a bit of a walkabout on his hand.
So comfortable and full was she, that a nap was in order. She found a warm spot, folded down her antennae and nodded off.
Luckily, we had plenty of time to sit in the sun and relax with Ms. Bumble before she buzzed off to the autumnal blooms of Syke Farm.
BB, the Bumblebee Whisperer. He has me charmed, too.
P.S. We cleaned up the sugary puddle before leaving.
Today is Friday and, more importantly, it is National Cream Tea Day here in Britain. Though it is only a minor holiday, I feel that failing to celebrate it would be rude.
The precise origin of the cream tea is unknown and disputed, especially between the two most south-westerly counties in England, Devon and Cornwall. Historians in Devon claim to have found proof of monks serving bread with clotted cream and strawberry jam amongst the eleventh century manuscripts of Tavistock’s Benedictine Abbey. Definitive proof? I think not.
I’m of the mind that, in a land blessed with good dairy cream and glistening berries, the combination of baked goods with cream and preserved fruit was eaten long before someone thought to write down the fact.
Besides, look at the variations between cream teas: Whipped double cream or clotted cream? Fruited or plain scone? Jam first (Cornwall) or cream first (Devon)? What type of jam? Tea in cups or tea in mugs?
Oh my… There isn’t even agreement on how to pronounce the word ‘scone’. Should it rhyme with ‘gone’ or with ‘throne’? A study by Cambridge University tells us that if you’re from The North (orange) it’s the former, which is the pronunciation I notice used by most Cumbrians.
Some folk in Cornwall would say a cream tea should only be enjoyed with a traditional sweet bun called a Cornish Split, not a scone at all. (See! It’s almost as contentious as barbecue!)
At least aficionados can all agree on one thing – Cream Teas are delicious. Make that two things – it has to be served with tea. (This is where Tavistock’s 11th century claim really fails. No tea. Sorry, Devon.)
Syke Farm is a working farm in Buttermere, and is owned and run by a local family. At milking time you can watch the red-brown and white Ayrshire cows (of ice cream fame) going to the barn to be milked. And there are sure to be farm dogs around and about. Or sheep. Or chickens.
They offer seating inside and out. Today was a bit cloudy, so we chose inside and upstairs.
It has been a long week, and we’re ready for a relaxed bit of caloric intake!
Syke Farm Tearoom is dog friendly, has a wood-burning stove downstairs, and serves a good selection for breakfast, lunch and in-between times. And the ice cream selection is ever-changing and really good.
They’re often busy, but always friendly.
Ahhh, the cream tea. Not afternoon tea. That is an altogether different affair requiring dainty sandwiches and pastries. No, not today.
Today’s cream tea is a lightly fruited scone, clotted cream, raspberry jam, and a bright cup of loose-leaf tea.
Clotted Cream is made by heating whole milk, then letting it rest until cooled clots of cream collect on the surface and the liquid drains away. It’s considered clotted cream once there is a golden crust above and thick, silky cream below. You’ll find it rich and almost-buttery.
I do have a personal preference for my cream teas. Plain scone. Cream on bottom, if clotted, or on top, if whipped. As for jam I like something with a sweet-tartness, say damson or a sharp raspberry.
Personal partialities aside, both BB and I really enjoy the cream teas at Sykes Farm Tearoom. Especially when there is a sofa free to lounge upon, as we swirl the cares of the world away with tea and scones. Happy days.
Right. Cream tea enjoyed, now we’ve got to do a bit of moving about.