Sunday 12 September 2010

Verdict delivered!

Another epic day at Rock HQ where friends and family gathered to continue work on the grand design, the helipad, or sun terrace. The sun did in fact spend most of the daylight hours shining on our labours and Ferny Fern Fern from Fern Town dropped by to deliver her verdict on our efforts so far.
As we were in the process of removing all organic material from the work in progress this small deposit did not go down to well amongst the burly builder types who were refreshed after an early night and were not in any way suffering from just having a few jars before a curry.

The tedious job of pointing was made less so by our many helpers, some of which had to work around
Reuben who point blank refused to move for anything except lunch.
Even with all our help there's a massive amount to be done before the grand opening in two weeks. Work on the helipad did divert attention from the river that's appeared in the OK Corral, turning it into an equine paddling pool. The heavy rain has reactivated two springs which now flow through the feed ring, drains will have to be dug before winter.
The sunshine also brought out walkers en masse, mostly a jovial bunch, but one broke a cardinal rule as they entered our domain from the land of the Militias, they forgot to close the gate.
The evening drawing to a close, a supper of our lamb chops and chips washed down by a nice glass of cheap red I merrily set off to see the Technohermit to drop off his share of supper. To my dismay, at the halfway point I could see Roxy and Springtime the wrong side of a very long fence. They having seen the mistake made by the walker decided to exploit it and test the old adage about grass being greener. Not wanting to leave them in lush pasture I tried to coax them with the follow the bucket routine. They being fatter than hamsters and stuffed to bursting on nice grass found it easy to resist the temptation of an empty bucket (Hungry horse had emptied it) so I resorted the to the tried and tested wave your arms around like a deranged aircraft controller and swear loudly. Finally after trying to hide in the tree line they gave up their quest for pastures new and headed back to Rock HQ leaving me to extricate myself from the six foot high nettles and hawthorn branches that were doing much to assist my sense of humour failure.
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