If you venture along our lane and are spotted by the magnificent seven you are in for a rowdy welcome, and if we see you the human inhabitants make a point of saying hello.
Today we were enjoying the peace and quiet of the country, watching the horses idly munching the grass, listening to the birds and marvelling at how still and peaceful it all was. Standing doing nothing is a hazard of smallholding, its so easy to just lean against the gate or fence and gaze at the wonder of it all. The fact that the huge pile of logs you are stood by needs moving, or the pile of branches needs sawing, or the fence posts still need hammering in, or the sheep need their breakfasts before they die of starvation seems to fade into insignificance, for a while everything just is.
Reality returned with the magnificent seven letting rip so shattering the calm. From our vantage point up in Willow Rise we could see what looked like a local militia man scurrying along the track with a collie on a string. Both were doing their best to evade the attentions of our dogs who from the safety of the other side of the fence were doing their best kill maim disfigure impressions.
They stumbled into the swamp as I called the baying pack to heel. Most did their usual ignore him routine and once they had decided the unfortunate militia man and his dog were muddy enough, welcomed enough and by the looks cross enough they scarpered.
I apologised. No need said the militia man, nice horse he continued pointing to Apollo (obviously this militia member has good taste choosing Apollo over William) I got nine of them he added, and donkeys. A distant braying donkey emphasises his masters point.
We got talking, he was called Steve (uncanny) and he, it turns out lives on the next hill along, has done for so for over 30 years and took over his small farm from his father. Does all sorts now, got to to make ends meet, chainsawing and fencing. I looked at my efforts going on in the field behind me. So was he, he looked impressed, at least think that's what his pointing and laughing indicated.
He wandered off up into the hill looking for his sheep, he was missing six, we are missing three, neither of us think we will find them but we hope they are not pie fillings.
As soon as the magnificent seven got over that excitement they went apoplectic when a strange looking vehicle advanced cautiously into the yard. I could see two very worried looking passengers checking the doors couldn't be opened as the magnificent seven tore round and round their silver spaceship like camper van creating an insane canine merry go round.
With order finally restored, mostly by locking the dogs away a door to the silver camper finally opened. Tracey and I stood silently as the alien tumbled out, he smiled, we smiled, before he could tell us they came in peace I asked if they were lost as they surely were.
No. In fact they knew where they were, right down to naming Rock HQ and the hill, no they were in the right place, they were para gliders looking for the launch site. This sounded interesting, so I showed him the hill, the other alien wouldn't boldly go where dogs had already been and sat gripping the steering controls as I took his co pilot into the cauldron. He took his bearings, I gave him as much information as I could, this was good, our first para glider, much better than the usual archaeologists, ramblers and orthodox Jews that wander into our yard.
We returned to the mother ship where the pilot had managed to turn it round without vaporising the goats, sheep, assorted poultry and dogs who were plotting a second assault. Having established that this was not the place for over 20 like minded para gliders to descend, mainly due to lack of parking and the long and boggy walk in the alien took my advice and planned a trip to the dark side of the hill where with care a vehicle could make it to five ways crossing.
We shook hands, as he got in his craft he said he couldn't believe we hadn't seen more of his kind here, its on all the maps, an ideal spot in the summer, ideal, what on earth was it that stopped people coming here.
At that moment the dogs had mastered the combination locks on the kennels and launched phase two of the welcome.
Slamming the door to prevent another close encounter they sped off, perhaps the alien got an inkling as to why our lanes usually so quiet.
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