Saturday, 7 February 2009

Pheasant Surprise!


The big freeze continued today, as can be seen by the state of the stables, some of the icicles are over a foot long. I was expecting Steve the stable sprite to visit with some pheasants that had been shot well before the season ended but were now in need of dressing. A hard knock at the door alerted me to someones presence at Rock HQ. I wasn't surprised that I hadn't heard a his van as parts of our lane still resemble a bob sleigh track. I was surprised to find two little old ladies shivering on the doorstep.
They looked harmless enough in their tweed over coats and hand knitted bobble hats but their smiles didn't fool me, I could see they were armed and dangerous for both were clutching in their mittened hands copies of a magazine that has caused more doors to slam in their faces than they have had hot dinners. The Watchtower was a dead give away, they were Jehovah's witnesses. Its taken over two years but they have finally tracked me down.
Actually being rude to old ladies is not high on my list of hobbies and lets face it they have enough rudeness as they go godbothering people so I smiled back. One thought she knew me, was I on last weeks crimewatch on the telly, no, you used to bother me at our last house and I was the one who always asked you in for a cup of tea. Yes they remembered, ours was the house with the horse painted on the workshop door, yes that's right, the house after the one where they always threatened to set the dogs on you and the one before the one with an injunction on you.
We carried on with the parry and thrust of polite banter, they looking for the opening to introduce me to God, me heading off any thread of conversation that could remotely be linked to religion. I led them to the start of the bob sleigh run and apologised for not offering hot beverages after their epic trek up the hill but I was in a bit of a hurry to get my jobs done, no not for Bible study, the six nations rugby starts at three and I have lots to do before I can sit down with my beer and shout at the telly. Now careful ladies don't slip on your way back to the car, stick to the road, stay off the moor and beware the moon.
They left promising to return en masse in the summer.
I shall be ready.

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