Tuesday, 9 August 2011

In focus, the Pgoor

As today's tale is primarily about Horses it should follow, in a logical world, that any pictures should be of the nags cavorting around the smallholding and getting to places where no well behaved pony would venture. As logic has no part in our form of smallholding, and as brother in law has nice posh new camera it seemed a good idea to post a couple of his shots of the pigs. Neither he or Tracey, my beautiful and oh so patient wife, managed to get pictures of the skip being removed, which was full to bursting and half loaded with rubble so the baby lorry they sent due to restricted turning circle and tree overhangs had a right old job of lifting it, the chains fell off etc, probably quite boring really so I am glad theres no pic to bore you with.
There has been a mystery to solve here recently, starting with the pigs running free a week or so ago. The Sunday before last our guests just happened to mention over breakfast that it was fun seeing the horses trotting by. As the horses should have been secure behind a stock fence and gate this was a pickle and so before I could eat my full cooked English with extra toast and Oxford Marmalade four naughty ponies had to be rounded up, much to our guests amusement. The gate was wide open. Not one that could be opened by an equine we wondered which human had failed to shut it properly, worse still, if we were victim to the Phantom Menace who used to plague these here parts, the Phantom Gate Opener of Old Radnor, or Pgoor for short.
We put the word out through The Oracle that the Pgoor had potentially struck, but we were all a bit vexed as to who it could be as the original Pgoor has been rendered incapable of gate opening through a combination of geography and a continued love of scrumpy.
Last Saturday we were Pgoored again this was after the ponies were observed behind the five bar gate waiting patiently for their breakfast to be delivered through the scrum of Ryelands.

Today I saw the Ryelands go past in a hurry, a bit like a woolly Tsunami. Fearing a rogue canine had entered our domain I reacted immediately. Lack of neighbours meant there were no arrests as I patrolled the perimeter in my boxers and boots. The cause of the stampede was William who has found a secret portal in the fence line so didn't need the help of the Pgoor. Lured by the power of the bucket he relinquished his freedom for a mouthful of oats, and fence repair was added to the jobs list. Just above find the Pgoor. And get dressed.
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