Thursday, 3 December 2009
Visitors to Rock HQ frequently get dragged into the chaos that is our lives. Anyone who has ideas of a free lunch or a nice cream tea on the patio watching the rural idyll unfold around them have a sudden reality check as they are inevitably handed a spade or some such implement and asked to help or they are instructed to "stand there and don't let them past" as various beast hurtle straight for them intent on escape. Visitors are told, often, don't wear anything you want to keep clean. Within seconds of arrival they are almost as grubby as we are.
Today was going to be different. Some friends were calling for a spot of lunch. I finished the concreting in plenty of time in the only sunbeam that has dared show itself at the smallholding in weeks. All was set for a relaxing time. Indeed, so assured was I that we would be able to eat our home made sausage rolls in peace I had a preemptive cuppa. The phone rang. Apollo, above, had jumped the fence and was lose on someone else land. We were just putting on foul weather gear and wellies (the sunbeam had given up and the rain returned) just as our surprised lunch guests got out of the car. Hardly time to say hello they were bundled into Rene and we set off to rescue the naughty pony. Several muddy fields later order was restored and we finally sat to a late lunch. Our tired muddy guests found the sausages delicious. Free lunch, no chance of that here.
Posted by Tony at 21:04