Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Danger! Low flying bales

For reasons known only to itself this frog, which is the size of a cricket ball decided that it would attempt to gain access to Rock HQ via a 25mm water pipe today. First clue that all was not well with the water supply and that Kermit was making a nuisance of himself once more was a distinct lack of water from the business end of a tap. Having experienced amphibian antics only a week or so ago the source was soon traced, this time without nuclear explosions of temper and without a canine audience. The poor frog doesn't look too well and I must have got to it just after it wedged itself because it hadn't drowned. As Rock HQ does not have a fully equipped med centre that caters for damaged amphibians I left it next to the stream where it may or may not recover.

Feeling very pleased with myself I went about the rounds, feeding and watering. The goats are all confined to barracks at the moment as they have decided that all the choice food around the smallholding is not to their liking. What they really like is the bark off the apple trees. Unfortunately this new act of goat vandalism was not discovered until they had stripped all the bark from eight apple trees. The chances of the trees surviving are about as much as the chance the goats have of being forgiven. Zero. They are now advertised as free to good home and they can bother someone else.

The last of the turkeys bought its celestial ticket today and I was the cause. The hay is in the stables, the goats are the other side of the stable wall. Thinking I was being very clever I selected a choice bale of hay and instead of walking the 16 feet from door to door I thought it would be a good idea to throw it over the partition wall. Not only a good idea as it would save me carrying it but a good idea in that it would be a man test lifting and throwing a bale over a 12 foot wall. This exercise went incredibly well, the bale left me and landed amongst some very surprised goats. A faint squawk alerted me to the potential tragedy about to unfold. Taking the long walk around to the other side I found three very content goats and underneath the bale wings spread out Warner Brothers cartoon style was a very flat very dead turkey. Christmas dinner is now definitely pork. Or goat.
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