Who Killed Bambi?

Sometimes I imagine Fate as a character watching what we do and when provoked intervenes as if we are players in some great celestial game. My famous last words yesterday about not having anything urgent to deal with at the start of our week off must have really upset Fate, or perhaps Fate was bored and started a new game, whatever, Geisha caught on the fence was just a side issue to the later events of our evening.

Before I continue I better explain the picture, its Maggie the Anglo Nubian goat teaching Daffodil bad habits by leading her astray up the cliff, for reference Daffodil is at head height having a munch on some Gorse bush shoots.

It transpires that while we were wrestling the goat from the wire last evening and struggling to carry her into the safety of the stable, Derrick, Tracey's dad was being admitted to hospital having suffered a heart attack. While Tracey and I were sat by our poorly goat, Jill, Tracey's mum was sat next to her very poorly husband whilst Doctors and Nurses tried to make him better. Luckily for him, and us he seems to have rallied and is now being made to rest in hospital under observation for the next five days.

Instead of spending a busy day on the smallholding we spent an equally busy day visiting and trying to come to terms with this sudden turn of events.

Who killed Bambi?

As we drove through the forests of the Marches on the way home Rene's headlights picked out something in the road ahead. I thought it was going to be a badger but as we got close I could see it was Bambi. Must have been hit by the car in front of us only a minute before. He was very dead, looking perfect as if just sleeping, the only injury visible a nose bleed, must have been a glancing blow to the head that killed it.

Bambi is now hanging in our meat locker, the black hole as we call it, so that's the Christmas venison sorted, about 30 kgs worth by the looks.

You see, every cloud has a silver lining.

Not for Bambi obviously.