Tough Breed

I went to Telford today to collect Tracey, en route I called at Countrywide to buy a couple of bags of feed as Rock HQ had run out of the necessaries to keep beast if not man alive. I ran out of milk five days ago and every time I managed to get myself to the kettle I cursed my poor memory having to forgo a nice cuppa and instead having to suffer an ice cold Guinness after my manly labours. I really didn't forget on purpose but I bet Freud would have something to say on the matter.

Anyway, as we know, in the grand plan the needs of the humans at Rock HQ pale into insignificance compered to the beasts. So running out of pig food, dog food, chicken feed and goat mix at the same time was bordering on a mortal sin.

The ravenous beasts managed to curtail their carnivorous tendencies this morning when I turned out with nothing but water for them. The pigs in particular are wary since their infringement of my personal space, a brief conflict that resulted in me being deficit a chunk from my left calf and introduced the culprit to a Magnum size 10 army boot. Mutually assured destruction has led to a new understanding whereby they gang up one side of the sty door and threaten to rush yours truly if I am too slow at putting their feed out.

The plan, call in and get an emergency supply of feed, enough to tide us over until Rene could be put to service to carry a months supply back.

What actually happened would have had the design engineers of Ford running for their slide rules, calculators and computers to see whether the stresses put on the back axle of Fifi (Fifi is the Focus, don't blame me I only live here) would induce a catastrophic breakdown.

They have broken bags from time to time at Countrywide, these are sold on at half price, usually you are missing a few grammes but in essence you, or rather your beasts get a cheap feed. When I saw that they had broken bags of all but one foodstuff I intended to buy I was unable to resist a bargain. So instead of getting one bag of sugar beet nuts, a bag of corn, a sack of dog food, ditto puppy food and some emergency peanut M and M's for the driver I ended up stuffing into the back of Fifi 5 sacks of sugar beet nuts, two sacks of crushed barley, one bag of coarse goat mix (for goats with tourettes obviously) two sacks of pig finisher nuts, and a bag of giant puppy feed. All these were broken and thus half price. Into this heady mix I chucked in two bags of working dog food, a sack of mixed poultry corn and another sack of giant puppy food with 24 cans of premium dog food for counterbalance. Instead of a maximum of 100kg the poor car was stuffed almost to capacity with 375kg of bagged food alone. So concerned was I that I almost decided against the M and M's, they being the proverbial straw as it were.

The load had an interesting effect on the braking but apart from the vague steering it was almost unnoticeable, well done Mr Ford.

Having got to Telford safely Fifi rested her red hot brakes while I had a cuppa with family and then we came home. I left Fifi complaining about vehicular abuse in the yard but as she was whinging to Rene and a broken wheelbarrow I think it fell on deaf ears. By early evening I had unloaded her massive burden and the suspension seems to have returned to the right height. More or less.

Tracey is being comforted by our dogs who have an uncanny knack of sensing distress. To take her mind off her loss they have decided to give her lots of canine fuss. This has involved sitting on her lap. How she managed to cope with a Golden Retriever, two Bernese Mountain dog adults and two Berner pups on her lap at the same time without needing paramedics was a joy to behold.

We are a tough bunch at Rock HQ.

The Offas Dyke Ordeal day 2

We all woke up really early after a nigh under canvas, or rather, I woke us up really early, 4 am to be accurate, as I was convinced there was something wrong with the campsite and we were lucky not to be murdered in our sleeping bags. More of that later.

Everyone was bright eyed and bushy tailed raring to go so by 5.45 we were packed and on the move heading for Pandy. A slight error in navigation meant Pandy didn't arrive on the scene as it should have and a two mile detour was received by all with the good humour of those on an endurance event. After what became known as Offas Tourettes, the uncontrollable desire to swear loudly at whoever is leading we soldiered on and reached Pandy by 9am. Here the unthinkable happened. Sara, above, the Duracell bunny of endurance events, the girl who blagged her way onto an alpine expedition I led by convincing me of her climbing prowess when in actual fact heronly mountain experience consisted of walking across a car park in Snowdonia saying oooh they look big, well her, she ran out of go. And stopped. A totally startling almost surreal experience to any one who knows her, she just never stops. But she did. In Pandy. Sorry, it all feels wrong I cant go on. Bye.

We left her safe a bus stop and pressed on over the hills and far away, and as we were traversing the Black Mountains another strange experience. A reporter, Jess Childs, from the Hereford Times called me to ask what on earth we thought we were doing. Inn between gasping for air I told her of The Great To Do. Fantastic a photographer would meet us in Hay on Wye at half 3.

Now we had a deadline the plan started to unravel, Jimbo, a stalwart was suffering in silence and finally let on that his boots were crippling him. So much so he could not endure the pain, he pulled the eject handle and baled out on Hay Bluff. And then there were two. Stuart and me.

How we pushed on I don't know but somehow both of us made it to the RV with the nice photographer who made us parade up and down a bit for action pics. Finally in Hay On Wye we could resupply with drink, but no food, all food sales are banned it seems after 6 pm on a Monday. If you want to buy a book, well there are 24 hour dealers, sustenance to stop you eating your own arm, sorry no sale.

So fuelled with Vimto (one can 330ml can give enough energy to power up a 1 in 4 hill) Stuart and I merely had to complete another 14 miles before bedtime at Rock HQ which as we all know is somewhere on Offas Dyke.

Again a combination of e numbers, stupidity and determination got us to our destination where Tracey and Sara were waiting . Sara seemed a bit better, Tracey was as ever just wonderful and tended to our every need.

I managed to get upstairs before my legs set and fell asleep in the safety of Rock HQ.

Day 2 Llantillo Crossnenny, Pandy, Llantony Priory, Hay on Wye, Newchurch, Rock HQ. 34 or so miles. Start 05.45 finish 21.45 Pack weight 43 pound. Calories consumed 1,000,000,000,000,000,000.098

Seconds out, Round two!

This is a small part of what was necessary to change a light bulb at Rock HQ.

Steve came back today to solve the mystery of eternal darkness in the dining room. The lights have failed for the last year, sometimes working, most times plunging us into darkness halfway through our meals.

Tracey and I had dismantled Bethan's bedroom clearing it so the floor could come up in our quest to find the junction box pictured. Unfortunately this was not the source of the problem and several hours later Steve found some arcane instructions written in blue ink telling would be treasure hunters how to gain access to the ultimate prize for there under some more floor boards was another switch, a transformer, a fuse splitter thingy and lots of wires, solve the riddle of these and the path to eternal light, subject to paying the bills every month was ours for the taking!

We were up for the challenge, we had the kit, well Steve did, he looked like a Makita advert, in fact I thought he had Makita tattooed on his backside but it turned out it was his jeans label sticking up. I spent a lot of time either looking at or talking to Steve's backside today as he delved into the internal workings of Rock HQ.

All day I fought off the urges of reverse electricians tourettes syndrome, this is when I had the uncontrollable urge to scream in pain every time Steve asked me to turn a switch on or off.

After much moving furniture, lifting and replacing of floor boards Steve still only had three out of four lights illuminated. The pressure was on, his reputation on the line. There was only one place left in the room to look, the last section of floor, we removed the protective hardboard panel, and there in the same blue scroll were more instructions, the final piece of the puzzle. Under the board was another set of switches, transformers and weird electrical stuff all replicating the work of the previous set and all as confused as Steve as to why they were there. A few deft cuts of wire and suddenly we had four lights in the dining room. Steve had triumphed over the electrical puzzle left by the nice man we had bought the house off.

We stood in the dining room staring in wonder at the four bright white lights. I was so overcome with emotion I played with the switch, savouring the on off on off so absent from Rock HQ. Steve slowly packed his gear.

"Well" I cheerfully mused, "at least the nice man who sold us the house didn't put the central heating in" I confidently tapped the shiny brass pipework by the Rayburn "Cos if its the same as the electrics, phew imagine that!"

Steve stopped and looked at me, the look said it all.

"He did didn't he" I said suddenly filled with dread looking at the pipes expecting them to explode.

"I'll get my coat" said Steve and he hurried off.

He didn't want to see a grown man cry

Let there be light!

Another good day at Rock HQ, lots of jobs done and a couple of mysteries solved.

The weather has behaved and allowed us to venture outside dressed in clothing other than not quite waterproofs so we have pottered around catching up on little jobs. Currently I am in the doghouse for leaving an axe hanging on the workshop door which fell off and nearly amputated Tracey's arm, but apart from that the day has passed without mishap.

William is fit, well and deposited vast quantities of pooh on the stable floor in an effort to demonstrate he wasn't bunged up after last nights colic attack so was allowed out to graze in the sunshine.

One mystery we solved was the strange case of the disappearing smoked salmon. We went to bed and in the fridge was the remains of our dinner, a slice of smoked salmon saved for some scrambled egg for breakfast. Tracey got up early and went to collect our latest purchase of animal feed, I found the salmon gone thinking she had had it. She returned later and decided on a sandwich for lunch, found the fish gone assumed I had it. What actually happened was Ben our son returned home at 1 am, dropped off a ton of his army gear, couldn't resist looking in the fridge, after all the food in there isn't actually owned or wanted by anyone in the house and it was he who ate the salmon. And Cheese. Oh and some cold sausages, milk, bread and anything else that wasn't nailed to the shelf.

The second mystery was solved by the electrician Steve. He still claims his name is Paul, but as all professionals and tradespeople in the valley are called Steve he is only trying to buck the trend. So Steve tipped up in his van which is a special edition white van with chest of drawers and portable chemical toilet, both securely fitted in the back by the ubiquitous bungee strap. Steve's task, apart from sorting out quite how we get electric into the stables and fit it out with lights and switches, was to find out why the lights in the dining room, downstairs wetroom, utility room, workshop and pantry either fail to come on when asked or go out after a few minutes.

This is an old house, and it has had things done to it many times, the electrical system has been designed so that you are never more than an arms length from a light switch. In fact some lights have three switches, allowing a wonderful combination of on off pleasure and for the real thrill seekers there are spare switches on some walls fitted for no other purpose than to provide the home owner with the joy of switching. If there was on Olympic event for light switching this house would be the training area.

The lights in the shower went out about a year ago, we tried to shower by candle light but this was far from successful. Dinners have for while been candlelit affairs as the ceiling lights went out and refused, despite all efforts to illuminate. The pantry lights would stay on just long enough for you locate what you were looking for before plunging you into an abyss of darkness as you clutched your can of baked beans whilst praying that you found the exit before the pantry monster grabbed you.

We needed expert help.

We needed Steve, even if he was called Paul.

I watched with interest as he dismantled vital sections of the house, transformers and wires were laid bare as I fought off electricians tourettes syndrome. This is the overwhelming desire to shout bang everytime I saw him touch a wire. Seeing I was struggling with this Steve told me that shouting bang wasn't as scary as builders and their nail guns who have the habit of firing them everytime he tests a circuit in a new build house. That was scary enough to cause accidents. That explained the toilet in the back of the van.

By mid morning we had two bedrooms dismantled and most of the lights working except for the shower room and the dining room. We even phoned the nice man who sold us this wonderful house to see if he could shed any light on why we were suffering eternal darkness. Steve was shocked by some of the wiring, literally, only for the third time in his life as an electrician he got a jolt from the mains after turning off a circuit. What he didn't know is our house is so good some switches are wired into two circuits. He swore to be more careful, I swore not to stand to close to him in case he exploded.

Finally after much head scratching, endless trips up and down stairs the circuit into the shower room still refused to work. Steve had tested it, it was live, it all should work, the bulbs were good, it made no sense.

Pondering what to do we were stood in Beth's room, our faces glum, he about to admit defeat, me contemplating another year of dark showers and wondering if there was any money to be made from a patent for an umbrella for candles when he said "Whats this switch do?"

Low on the wall below Beths bedroom window was a switch.

He turned it on.

We have lights.