Wednesday, 29 August 2012
Tuesday, 28 August 2012
Monday, 27 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 22:05
Sunday, 26 August 2012
A nice Irish vet arrived and although he was having a half day and planned to be on a train shortly after attending to Boris he dutifully manned up and entered the stinkyones den and wrestled medicines into him before almost aspyxiating himself and begging to be let out of the med bay. Boris took all the wrestling in his stride but refused to rally. He curled back up into his fetid ball and looked wretched (Boris not the vet)
Signs were ominous, UXG.
The day was spent tip toeing around in case sudden noise or movement set him off. Meanwhile Kayliegh began to follow suit and by Saturday morning was in the same condition as Boris.
More vet was called.
Now vets, much like normal humans, are divided into two groups, those that know goats explode and die without warning, and those that have no idea that goats explode and die and so do not take seriously the paranoia of those who know better. With goats counting down to final detonation rapid response was required but vet thought we were panicking (damn right, you try and explain to nice man that his champion champion is a thin greasy layer on the walls) and tried to reassure us who definitely were past reassuring that all would be well.
Having already injected both UXGs with antibiotics ( I always wanted to be a vet) the only option left to diffuse the goats was a drench to restart their chemistry. This meant yours truly donning full bomb disposal gear and manhandling massive billy goat (the size of a small Gnu) and forcing him to drink foul liquid to stop him from going off. The fact that he did sort of go off all down my left side depositing the most disgusting (even by his standards) smelling pooh was taken as a sign of affection by my beautiful and oh so patient wife and by me as a sign that he was at least still working internally. More tip toeing and hourly checks, he sneezed and failed to go bang, his eyes watered (mine too he might be ill but he still strips paint with his body odour) he peed, pooed, broke wind with surprising volume and regularity, and refused to eat.
By tea time last night he was upright and sampling new hay, not old hay, or hayledge, but a rare type of sterilised hay free from any germs and made from rye grass cut by hand in the moonlight by buxom maidens, hung to dry in gentle sea breezes and pressed into bales a blade at a time by buxom maidens grandmother. Or it should be at £12 half bale. Anyroad up Boris was sampling this with some indifference, but at least he was eating.
This morning he appears to have diffused and was eating like only a goat the size of a small horse can. Kayleigh remains poorly but again has rallied and is eating. We dont think we have UXG's anymore. On reflection it may have been that Boris was never in danger of exploding, just knackered after a love in. Kayleigh may not be UXG either, simply old (8 years) and having been ravished by a monster the size of Boris might have been a shock to the system. Time will tell. As ever the goats are the only ones who really know whats going on with their strange chemistry and having milked one in the morning and found her dead by the afternoon we were not taking any chances.
Posted by Tony at 23:07
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Late tonight I managed to salvage the crippled R200, 27 punctures was just the start, but as I began to make repairs by taking the spare tube out of the spare front wheel from R100 I wondered if the front wheel in the car was still at 80psi as intended. Alas that was also flat. Both wheels more holy than Lourdes on Sunday thanks to the rain washing the thorns back into the road.
Posted by Tony at 22:44
Friday, 24 August 2012
Thursday, 23 August 2012
Once past the obstacle course a quick remount led to another dilemma. Should a 50% lycra clad fat bloke over take a tractor as we sped along the bypass?
Our paths crossed at the roundabout, he shooting straight across, me joining at speed from his left, we were around 100metres apart as we headed along the bypass. I could see I was gaining, albeit slowly. He could see I was gaining and with a puff of exhaust fumes piled on the revs to pull away.
Except he didnt.
I kept gaining.
I could see him watching me in his mirrors as I slowly closed in.
Now I wasnt racing, honest. (of course I was!)
He definately was.
I was keeping pace wondering what to do, the question going around my head almost as fast as my pedals were going was should a sweaty fat bloke attempt an over take of a massivley horsepowered blue behemoth with all the bells, whistles, flashing strobe lights, sat nav, radio, TV DVD, CD multi changer microwave and drinks dispenser as is now required by farmers, on his people powered badly set up R200 racer?
This was closely followed by question two which was if the answer to question one was yes, then how long would it be before tractor squished impertenant cyclist for showing it up.
I decided that what was best was to tuck in behind tractor and take advantage of slipstream, my very own massive turbo charged peloton.
But again as I moved in I had less work to do as I was now slip streaming enormous diesel machinery and this meant I got the urge to go faster, just because I could which led to a repeat of question one.
The race was on.
Thankfully for both of us the farmer turned off before the answers to Q1 and Q2 could be found. But what if he hadnt, what is the right thing to do when faced with a slow petrol head?
I should have put a pic of the badly set up R200 cooling off in the setting sun, you know, the inspirational sporty type shot, bike porn magazine style. But I dont have any and as a pig is probably chewing the back wheel it wouldnt look too good. So here is a pic to show that the chicks, or at least some of them have survived 48 hours here.
Posted by Tony at 23:01
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 22:32
Monday, 20 August 2012
Sunday, 19 August 2012
One of these sows has had her pet status revoked and is going to be sausages. Answers on a post card please.
Posted by Tony at 22:04
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
I found this evidence of one of the hangers on at Rock HQ taking dietary supplements. Malt Loaf is one of my favourite snacks and so it would seem one of Preston our 21 year old beagle, sleeping off his ill gotten gains in the spare straw. He nabbed this while I was unloading the weekly shop.
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 22:09
Monday, 13 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 21:49
Sunday, 12 August 2012
Most of you know that we have one or two Bernese Mountain Dogs, the Carlsberg of the canine species. And we have been lucky enough to have had three litters with Rocky and Reba, the pups all going to great homes and all the owners keep in touch which is why the pages of the sister site to these pages, Dolyhir Bernese Mountain Dogs, is so interesting.
Very recently we heard from one of the owners from the class of 2009 who's personal circumstances were such that looking after his Berner had become difficult and he really wanted his special dog to have more time and attention. As he was such a top bloke he contacted us at HQ and asked advice, send him home was the immediate solution, that way his dog gets to play with 3 others from the class of 2009, mum and dad and numerous other playmates in a 500 hectare garden and he gets to keep up to date via the blog on how his lad is doing. Which was why yours truly, still recovering from the worst stomach bug ever, found himself on a ferry to the Emerald Isle late early yesterday evening.
The very nice man paid for a 1st class ferry ticket for me and Hazel, this was unfortunately the only part of Ireland I got to see in the 3 minutes 21 seconds I was there. Good to see the Nolan's are still keeping busy though.
Bear and I got back UK side just past midnight and after a fruitless search of Holyhead for a 24 hour fuel stop we set off back to the Shire slowly trying to eek out the LPG and wishing that I had the foresight to fill with unleaded rather than rely on finding fresh supplies. An oasis was found with less than 1 miles worth of LPG left and after paying to fill the tank what I paid for my first ever car (a hand painted matt black ford capri) we went on through the night to get back to HQ at dawn chorus where Bear the Berner met his family. There will be more pics of him him and this reunion of the clan on the other site. Any thought of a long lie in was dashed by the knowledge that several visitors were due, some to drop off animals, others to collect and one mad lot even to buy some. More of that tomorrow but there is now considerably less sheep and even less pork wandering the smallholding. The sheep pig remains!
Posted by Tony at 20:56
Friday, 10 August 2012
Wednesday morning saw my beautiful and oh so patient wife fall victim to whatever bug it was, followed by yours truly and grandma. Little t being a mere sprog rallied quite quickly but has spent most of the last 3 days either asleep or being hugged. Me being a bloke was obviously the illest of the group (scientific fact, cant argue with the facts) and so began a fast (good for waistline but not recommended) as any food in became ammunition for innards to fire in all directions outwards without warning. Like I said, messy.
In seriousness the sudden unexpected explosive discharge of pre chewed foodstuffs was a minor irritation compared to the muscle cramp (why so severe in my left foot?) feeling cold (I made a big mistake of falling asleep wrapped in a duvet fully clothed under another duvet and was still cold but then moved on to the next stage, cooking myself) excessive sweating, thumping headache and feeling of utter fatigue.
As this seemed to be a illness that was passed on we decided to keep it to ourselves and stayed in miserable isolation, with no telly.
Thankfully the worst has passed (several times over!) and having contained a tin of oxtail within my digestive system for more than 8 hours I am sure that tomorrow will be as fun a day as planned.
Posted by Tony at 23:04
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 20:16
Monday, 6 August 2012
Posted by Tony at 23:39
Sunday, 5 August 2012
Mind you the weather at bar b que o'clock would have put a dampener on it anyway!
Posted by Tony at 22:47
Saturday, 4 August 2012
Back to the bed down man test, the sun shone and shone some more and by 2pm all was well, stalls were cleaned, pressure washed, pooh safely stacked for composting, beds made, last bit of straw to put to storage when this happened.
Posted by Tony at 23:32