Looking good, and not so good...

 Once the blood was hosed off the woodwork the new fencing is starting to look good, there's about half a mile left to do and providing my helped has enough of the red stuff in him we should get it done. Soon. The unassembled fence is here, lying around, waiting for us to sort it out.

 Not looking so good is our old gent Chester who is losing weight fast and while he seems to get a bit more mobile on his feet he still can't move about as he should.

 Apollo on the other hoof is looking massively handsome and was all over the fresh supplies of hayledge when it arrived. Not that he's a greedy git or anything.

 Vets been back and we are medicating

 feeding

and crossing our fingers he gets better.

Feeling a bit down

As yours truly must have missed the call selecting me for the Tour De Yorkshire starting tomorrow I decided to give my new trainers a run out (read stumble forward trying not to look like a fat bloke having a coronary) so full of beans I took the first step forward on the downhill to the gateway to the world stopping almost instantly (imagine a supertanker trying to stop and scale down) due to a massive stabbing pain up my left hamstring. Thinking the worse, ruptured Achilles tendon, I carefully  inspected myself only to find a simple but painful explanation. A large nail through the heel of my new airbaggedfullyshockabsorbedsuperduperspringy trainers. Once it was removed and I stopped the bloodflow I began to stumble forward run except now I was a bit down on the left hand side and every other step resulted in a loud farting sound that definitely wasn't me. I walked home blowing raspberries at sheep.

Extreme fencing

Having spent an age putting up nice posh fencing to keep ourselves in, or out, yours truly has decided that help is needed if the whole smallholding is to be secure before 2027 (projected finish time based on current progress) so help arrived and once the difficulties if communicating the plan in plain English was overcome the new fencing began. And mighty fine it looks to, and will do once finished, but there is a slight delay as the help that arrived has left due to nearly severing a finger. 2027 isn't far away.

All gone well

By contrast to last evenings trials and tribulations involving all things pig and tagging, this morning, under a fresh sky, things could not have gone better. Ms Pork, Ms Bacon and Ms Sausage collectively the three not so little pigs happily followed the bucket of allure into the back of the trailer ready for the short trip to the land of endless sunshine until their return to Rock HQ as pork jigsaws for storage in Mr Whirlpool. This picture was taken two minutes after loading and evidently they are stress free porkers.

Talking of stress, Chester is still causing concern, we think he is on the mend, but then he seems to have a relapse, so more vet time is required tomorrow, meanwhile Misty the shitland keeps vigil.

Late this evening the equines decided that all was going too swimmingly in the realm of chaos so they decided to try and escape. This entailed leaning on a gate that had not been tied as well as bolted and once it was sprung with the whinny of "Freedom", Trevor led the way and Snoop followed trying to impress him. The high tide of their escape bid is captured (as they were) here, they basically weighed up a night out on the common against warm hay and horse nuts and decided that full tummies was a better option than rough mountain grass and milled around waiting to be spotted.

While we were on evening rounds we were treated to another spectacular sunset

which doesn't look quite so good on mobile phone pics but you get the idea and even at this resolution beats

anything on offer by Santorini.

Mucking about in the water

 After a very quick 40 miles with RKR the rest of the day was spent mucking about and ignoring the jobs list. Critters got fed and watered, walked, fussed and shouted at depending on what they were up to at the time.

 A family walk to the river exposed rug rat MkII to the mad antics of some of the clan, heres Ripley at mach 1 about to exit the river. Bear managed to avoid falling in, unlike the last time

 and Ritchie "jumped" in and came out smelling less of dead things and more of wet dead things.

 But it kept us entertained until home time when the fun and frolics ended

thanks to a technical hitch with a tagger that was making a pigs ear out of a simple job. Why I should be surprised that there is a last minute glitch is a surprise in itself. I am sure it will all sort out by tomorrow morning.

Not looking good

 This is Chester our old gent of a thoroughbred out in between showers today having a leg stretch and a munch. He is not looking good, not a well horse.

 Around a week ago he didn't show for breakfast, an unheard of situation, he usually lurks around the yard, walking in and out of his open stable, taking it easy and enjoying life. The no show to breakfast got worse when he did show up as he was staggering, walking slowly and at times cross legged.

 Vet called and diagnosed laminitis, an illness horses get when the sugar in grass they eat creates a bacteria that turns them lame, or something like that. Bit of a design flaw really if you think about it. The food you have to eat can kill you. So the poor lad has been shut indoors on a soft floor of wood shavings, been fed hay and bran mash with the drug of choice of idiots at festivals, ketamine. Vet has done blood tests and found that he has Cushings disease, no idea what that is or if I have spelt it right, but that is what has caused him to get laminitis.

He seems to be a bit better, at least he was stood indoors, but as soon as he was out today he started shaking in the legs region and had to be carried (almost) back inside once yours truly had cleaned his house. Its not looking too promising for Chester but we will do what we can to make him better.

Its that time again

 Our little flockers got a short back and sides again today thanks to The Godfather. This entailed yours truly getting up at sparrows fart and heading off up the Bonsai Mountain to where the bleaters were last seen and try to coax them down with a bucket of allure. Actually that's a lie, it wasn't that early, for once we all overslept so instead of a 5am alarm it was a 7.45 rousing and then panic as all jobs had to be done, including a full cooked English, before paid work commenced. As the real alternative to work, meetings, were scheduled right from the start there was no leeway to wander in late. Naturally the flockers sussed this out and took an age to dawdle down from the crags and meander along the lane to captivity.

 Sad news is that one of the peachicks has been and gone, probably cat food.

Once again we owe a debt of gratitude to The Godfather as he did a grand job and a bowl of Goulash seemed a paltry reward for such an effort.

In only 7 days

 Spotty the action Berner having a bit of bother with the gate to number one pig pen

 where in the glorious but about to change weather

the three little pigs (now not so little) Ms Pork Ms bacon and Ms Sausage (nearly a years supply) continue to enjoy the benefits of Rock HQ. Their date with Mr Whirlpool has been rearranged to next Sunday after my able assistant who "volunteered" to take the pigs to their final destination had the misfortune to kneel on a nail and get blood poisoning.