Siege

Yesterdays post got waylaid due to lack of time caused by having to clear up after the plasterers who came and "finished" the windows. Unlike the three not Steve's who were a good bunch, deadpan humoured, quiet, clean and tidy, so much so you could forgive their crap navigation and poor timekeeping, the two idiots who arrived to complete were messy, didn't use dust sheets, loud (radio 1 non stop) trailed dirt into everyroom they visited, splashed plaster over most things including dogs, left the doors open all day, slow (made the job last all day) and worst of all left a Stanley knife blade within child's reach once they cleared off in their van which I felt like spray painting Bodgit and Scarper. One did make a half hearted attempt to mop up some of the crap they sprayed about with gay abandon, his handiness with the mop was noteworthy and he explained that a greater part of his life had been spent behind the mop, mostly landings and corridors as he wasn't allowed outside.
Today's  mess began with yours truly trying to gain access to the tack room/feed store, clearly something unusual had happened as the door would not open. The problem soon became apparent, the Rampaging Ryelands had barricaded themselves in and were holding an eat in. Fat bloated woolly mammals were lying helpless in their own pooh, the result of 36 hours gluttony, and unable to move, not that they wanted to as they were warm, happy and had abundant rations for the siege. Negotiations began, their request for vegetarianism being compulsory at Rock HQ was ignored but a promise of not eating any of the culprits no matter how fat they now were did allow for an exchange of a bucket of water for some poultry feed. Suitably rehydrated the naughty sheep finally came out single file blinking at the sunlight leaving yours truly to sort out the monumental mess left inside.

Showtime!

 WooZah and me went up the north face gulley on the bonsai mountain tonight to watch sundown.

 Which was it has to be said

pretty spectacular. Again.

Burglars!

 Tales of how Heidi is keeping us entertained will have to wait a day or so as more home improvements take place at Rock HQ. Today the front of house windows were taken away, or rather left for recycling as firewood and shed windows (I say shed, I mean windows for anything that needs a window, hopefully before carelessness breaks them as they are stored, read dumped) and replaced with nice see through opening and closing ones. The previous inhabitants had master crafted fine sash windows but had failed to allow for such mundane things as weather which caused them to swell in wet weather and shrink in dry, the result being windows that would not open late October through to early April and then when they finally unstuck fell open instead of closing. How we laughed.

So now thanks to three not Steves we have five brilliant windows which I would show you but due to a massive thunderstorm the emither got corrupted containing the finished pics of HQ. And anyway the job is not quite finished as the surveyor got his slide rule the wrong way round and the almost square bathroom window was made almost square as requested except the almost square bit was on the wrong side so they had to fit the window the wrong way round or in laypersons terms, upside down.
Not that you would notice, it being almost square.
 Ever.
 Until you opened it.

Found the missing pic!

Not in my backyard

 As yours truly wended his way along the track after a hard day at the office (trying to access emails) my ponderings of how best to disentangle an excited three year old from a scalextric set was rudely interrupted by the presence of the PGOOR who had struck again allowing unfettered access from the common to the militias lands. Amongst the wooly backs busily munching the greenery were two familiar faces from our little flockers.
As I stopped Gerry and dismounted the difficulty of extricating two rampaging ryelands from 100 plus militias trainee lamb chops magnified when the militias sheep did what any sensible sheep would do when faced with an irate fat block trying to round up two of their species, they legged it as fast as possible. Now sheep being sheep like, the two insurgent Ryelands now faced with a choice of run after the many or stand their ground and wait for fat bloke began to make the wrong choice and gravitated downhill after the seething mass of running wool.
Feigning disinterest I "ran" up the track and "jumped" the stock fence between the divided lands, before running at an angle that would have made Pythagoras proud and intercepted my two sheep as they tried to make good their escape. Puzzled by the sudden appearance of yours truly to their front (when last seen wheezing to the rear) the naughty sheep turned tail and managed to find the gate (one ran into the fence on her first attempt) taking shelter on the Bonsai Mountain.

Once everyone's pulse rate returned to normal yours truly went for a stroll around the perimeter. Tomorrow more tales of Heidi. (The Ghost)

Be prepared

 Last nights weather and the bleak forecast has certainly made yours truly feel a bit happier about the effort put in to preparing for winter this year. Not able to follow the trappers rough guide to winter survival that states you have to have enough wood chopped stacked window height around the whole cabin to get through the cold spell, we have made a good enough start and have a whole 12 foot by 12 foot stall full of dry chopped logs and a couple of ton of corded lengths ready to be finished.

Makes you feel warm inside just looking at it!

Cutting down

A couple of years back there might have been news of livestock arriving at Rock HQ, such as a cow, or pedigree sheep, but that was then and this is now, times have changed, been there done that mode rules and now we are happy with smaller things that race around and demand entertainment (Kids, non goat type) hence Honey the Hamster now resident in the charity shop bargain cage.
The fact that we will get as much milk from this hamster as we did from Hetty our ex house cow who is now causing mayhem over in Stable Sprites domain is a side issue,
Honey is the apprentices charge and in some weird comedic Fawlty Towers script reversal  lil t insists on calling Honey a rat, as in "can I feed my rat?" to which the only reply is "Its not a rat its hamster" to which he replies "Its not a hamster its a rat daddy" repeat his Manuel to my Basil ad nausea.

Have map...will travel

 Living where we do, in a massive adventure playground (OS maps don't lie) and having a new toy, the Boardman MTB, is an excuse to go off piste and explore some of the local scenery.

 Which is why, today, yours truly set out for an hour and a bits freedom glorious Octoberfest sunshine, leaving Rock HQ with three sleeping beauties in charge (MBAOSPW's ME is giving her real grief so no get up and go to enjoy playtime) while I found some lesser known public rights of way.

 Some of it was a bit hilly but clear trails to follow. New hazards were encountered, the articulated lorry of the trail riding world, cows, who unlike sheep who wait til last second to bugger off, gang up, form a posse and try and head you off at the pass. They fell for the time honoured head down a side gulley, wait til they thunder past and then out retrace your steps, silly cows, Actually this translated to shout obscenities at A) Curious cows heading for same exit as yours truly and B) shout at Bike for first time fail of vital change gear to give our blessed lady of acceleration a chance to outrun said silly cows.

 I won the death race and found a fixer upper. Makes you wonder how a place like this came to be so unlived in. Several exciting miles later, kamikaze squirrels, lethargic sheep, gorse bushes and stinging nettles all adding to the heady adrenaline mix yours truly confronted one of his personal demons. Some years ago in a time before bionic left arm a spectacular attempt at self harm occurred on the dark side of Hergest Ridge leading to Five Ways (top of sheep skull lane, keep up!) where with daring do I rode (read crashed big time, earth sky earth sky earth, pain, bleed, relax)down a steep bit. I duly turned down that track and exorcised the that demon, almost, at the crucial section where controlled falling is necessary I bottled and dabbed the foot down a few times slowing to snails pace. This, despite the soundtrack to Rocky playing (in the earphones, not in my head)

Having survived and feeling pretty chuffed with trauma therapy working I finished the ride by heading into The Cauldron which is where the results of last nights downpour could be seen by the absence of trail hidden under the fallen bracken.

A new way

 The daily commute took an exciting turn (several thousand actually) by using the new Boardman steed for the just over 4 mile very mountainous route. It is a genuine case of at the half way point its downhill all the way with great views to distract you from the oh my god my lungs are going to shred feeling. The road racer can do the road trip in a shade over 12 minutes, I can walk over the mountain in 1 hour 15 mins or so, the MTB steed took 40 to 46 minutes, depending on which way you faced

or how many times you stopped for that photo opportunity. New hazards were faced, road trip leads to close encounters with lorries, rapid MTB descents were nearly rudely interrupted by the militias sheep waiting until the last second before getting out of the way. Mind you, unlike tangling with lorries a sudden impact with a dozy portion of lamb chops is likely to be survivable, for one of us at least.