Sunday, 25 October 2009

Who's been sleeping in my bed?

The Berners like to dry off after a walk in one of the stables. They roll in the straw and get rid of a bit of mud, well all except Dotty who likes to keep hers. Yesterday when we got back they had a bit of a surprise. Bronwyn had decided it was a good place to have a kip, after she had rearranged the interior.

Bronny is so expert at getting out of the pig pen that she now routinely lets herself out, tries to provoke the humans at Rock HQ into feeding her, has a quick check of the other animals feed stations before trotting back to the sty to make sure she isn't missing anything. Today I saw her in the garden so I quietly got into the sty and fed the other three. Bronwyn spotted breakfast was being served and lay by the side of the fence and wriggled under. There was no way an animal her size could get under the fence but she managed it.

She also kept Pritch, our very friendly and expert builder, company while we went on a quick sortie over to Mr20%'s for some apple cake cooked by his lovely wife. The day might have gone differently had I succumbed to the temptation of a glass of Calvados, but as I had to help with the concreting I decided not to sample the apple rocket fuel.

Coffee and caked up we got back to Rock HQ where Pritch looked a bit down. Things had not gone well since we had left him on his own. The roof he removed from the back of the black hole had then collapsed and crushed the metal ladder, breaking it, he reversed his new van up the lane and thoughtfully pulled over to the side to allow us to get past when we returned. Unfortunately he hit a metal gate I had thoughtlessly left open putting two huge scratches into his back door. Tracey went and made him a nice cup of tea as he recounted the tale of woe, as he finished his ipod and speakers fell off the wall. He shrugged as if this proved his point.

Ben called via satellite phone and cheered us all up, he and Pritch are best friends so they had a quick chat about Rugby, pubs and girls. Much happier he set back to the concreting. The shuttering was all in place what could possibly go wrong. As it turned out quite a lot, at a crucial point the wood holding back a dozen barrow loads of concrete gave way. I hope this was as a result of wood fatigue and not as result of my treading on the concrete from above to "move it along". Pritch was at the base of the concrete column we were constructing and in homage to the little Dutch Boy bravely held back the impending avalanche of grey stuff while I ran round to help him. Much sawing and bracing later we, well he, managed to rectify the situation and we continued mixing and laying until darkness fell.

He packed his tools and cleared away, he wasnt his usual self, no banter. He had had a hard day. I waved him off as he pulled out of the yard, maybe next time he would have a better day. And maybe the coffee mug on the roof of the van would still be there when he got home.

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