Poor Gummer

Our oldest Ryeland is having a spot of bother of late. Crispen, a really fine pedigree Ram, father to dozens of offspring including the clone and massive Ryeland ram called Leviathan (Levi) has been found the last two evenings on his side unable to get up in Goatanamo. The poor old boy has really lost a lot of weight and condition on account he has no teeth, they dropped out a while ago due to his age. Being ten years old that's quite an age for a sheep so we are making sure he gets his oats and supervising his meals. Mind you hes not as frail as his condition suggests because when my back was turned yesterday he had a spat with Misty over who owned the feed bucket. Here he is doing a good job of ignoring Chester's pleas to share supper.

Like a Dyson without a bag

 On top of the trouble we are having getting connected with the world, we are told that Steve from BT will be around today and fit a new wire and pole to hang it from, our steam powered PC is having trouble and even turning it off and on again has not rectified the problem. It just sits humming quietly to itself and keeping all its data.

 Lacking any computer repair skills and sensing that it would be more complicated than hitting it with a hammer a techynerd was called, called Steve the applemac, who came to our aid and opened up Pandora's box to reveal our stricken PC's assortment on non working parts. Ignoring the remains of a mummified mouse, a stale jam sandwich and half sucked chocolate bourbon he asked if we had a woodburner. As this is perhaps the most prominent feature of our living room aside from a toddler trying to force feed Bernese Mountain Dogs bits of puzzle I thought this was a non question but as Steve was clearly waiting for an answer I told him I believed so. So did he, he could tell, and not by looking at the four foot cast iron black cube radiating heat some 16 feet away, he could tell by looking at the innards of the PC. There was dust. Lots as the pictures above shows. Apparently, Steve went on to explain at length, a PC is like a Dyson, but without a bag, its always sucking air in the front and blowing it out the back, so it attracts dust (and small child's unwanted food items, and rodents who like discarded toddler tidbits) and eventually the dust will cause the malfunction of vital components, like the hard drive. Not good.

An hour later with a real Dyson our inner gubbins looked as good as new but still failed to operate properly so Steve packed it in ice and took it away for transplant surgery. Fingers crossed he sorts it out as there are some 22,000 photos on it.

If you go down into the woods today....

 We took lil t for a walk into the forest yesterday

 and after telling him he needn't worry, there were no bears in the woods, well no hungry ones, look closely and you will see it,

little t decided he wanted to be a tree.

The importance of nutrition

 With several physical challenges looming closer the training programme has gone up a notch, which is just as well as a 470 mile bike ride needs more preparation than a 5 mile commute every other day and the BBMC which is only weeks away takes a bit more effort than a circuit of the Bonsai Mountain. So this morning I was out on my new iron horse clocking up some miles along perfectly smooth tarmac. There were one or two pot holes but nothing major, not worth bothering with really, its not as if the one we found would have shattered a wheel.

 Something else that I have had to pay careful attention to, aside from endurance training, is nutrition. Having over indulged on the calorie front for a while I am a shade over the ideal weight for a mega bike ride, every KG needs effort to move through time and space, so I have been training "in the zone" that burns off fat and then made sure I eat a healthy balanced diet the replace the energy used but not add to the waistline.

 So after today's high intensity thrash around the wonderful roads of Wales

I got back to a perfect post race breakfast that has the ideal blend of carbs, protein and bacon necessary for an athlete.

Having a smashing time

 The day started early doors with the phone ringing. Once the confusion over what was making the noise was (alarm or phone) yours truly ran the obstacle course of bedroom landing stairs living room to get to phone before ringer rang off. Thinking it might be he who cannot be named calling from his adventure holiday I made the handset by the 6.57 ring.
 Fighting for breath and fighting off excited Bernese Mountain Dogs who were overjoyed at the sudden unexpected entrance of their owner I was able over the cacophony of canine goodmornings to establish that it was not our first born but Supergran who was ringing to say she might be a bit late as she had just had a slight problem with her car.
Slight problem turned out to be hitting a patch of ice, for despite it being an unusually sunny day, the melt water from the snow froze overnight and at various points between our abodes formed sheet ice which at least raises the pulse when you hit it whilst driving or at worst caused Supergran to go sideways, up a dirt bank, straighten, nearly roll, land back on road and for good measure shred a front tyre.
 Luckily she was not hurt and people stopped to see if she was alright, but none thought to help change the wheel so yours truly set off in Miranda as waiting for breakdown truck would have taken a wee while longer than my ETA. Finding the crash site was easy, not joining in was not as as Miranda threatened to follow Supergran's stricken Skoda on same ice patch. Good luck prevailed and pretty soon we were all heading back to HQ (wheel changed, bodywork and lights picked up from road) where she could assume her duties of looking after lil t while we went to work. As she said it could have been a lot worse.

Things were a lot worse for this poor hen who was very surprised by a hungry fox.

Going going......

 Snow still clings to the slopes of the Bonsai Mountain

 but the field to our front is clearing.

Casualties are starting to emerge in the thaw, I found two dead ewes in the drifts by the boundary fence and saw another on my cycle to work. Stories abound of losses sustained by the militia, all sorts of hyperbole to describe the catastrophic loss of life amongst the new born lambs. Perhaps the most graphic so far is a one ton builders bag full of dead lambs at the back of a barn. The thaw has meant a return to  Somme like mud. Dozens of muddy paws have been racing in and out of the cottage adding to the mayhem caused by a toddler who's latest hobby is exercising his vocal cords by experimental screaming.

Oh you got one of those too!!!

 I think I must have been in a bad mood this morning. Nothing to do with Thor the Bernese Mountain Pig slobbering over me as I fed him breakfast, the prolific porcine foam bath caused by a combination of his not being able to get to A) Bridget on his right B) Pam on his left C)Apollo the pretty boy pony to his front and D) a bucket of natural grains in my hand, and all to do with Fanta having expired next to the rayburn. She had been doing really well but a respiratory infection claimed her.

 Reba, Biffer and Rocky were trying to cheer me up by barking at a white van entering the smallholding, the driver a regular visitor is well used to the our big welcoming committee but hadn't really seen them close up. In response to "Christ almighty what are those bigguns" I told him "Collies" and agreed that they were a bit bigger than the Collie called that guards the entrance to our world. I dutifully signed for the package and thanked him, he left muttering about googling Welsh Giant Collies when he got home.

 He was not the only one to enquire about the dogs today. Steve the BT man reappeared with a plan to remove the flimsy two piece wire connection to the world and replace it with a more substantial phone line and new pole. The whole meeting should have taken minutes, put the pole there mate, attach to house there, cheers, let me know when its done routine. Except Steve didn't want to talk wires and poles, Steve almost squealed when he saw Rocky standing watching the exciting conversation about the precise geographical location of large wooden poles "Oh you've got one of those too". Rocky true to form didn't mind human squealing and associated pointing and wandered over to give the man a big Bernese hug which was when Steve  told us all about their 15 month old Berner. As there were 8 others to meet he was at HQ for some time. Sorry if you were expecting him.

Question time

To pig club or not to pig club. That is the question!