Digging for victory

Due to various reasons like the position of Rock HQ, the shadow of the Bonsai Mountain, weather, heavy clay soil, goats and my laziness, our garden is a bit behind most others. Around a month. Our potatoes are still in the paper bags they were sold us in, our onion sets are still in the dark not in the soil and our raised beds have grown a healthy set of weeds. So today while Poppy the pathetic retriever made use of the sun beds I set about the task of clearing the jungle back to virgin soil so that we could plant the seed. Young Ones fans will know the rest, but in order for that to happen first I had to dig. This is actually an activity I enjoy as each fork or spadeful lifted or turned is a source of wonder, not only because of the crawly things that suddenly find themselves in the sunshine but because I can actually dig. The space age technology that holds my left arm together is doing a fine job of allowing me to get on with things and despite it setting off security alarms wherever there are metal detector body scanners and the painful twinges I am a very fortunate man.
I dug over the bed that had the Jerusalem artichokes (or fartichokes as some people call them due to the unfortunate side effect they have when eaten) and was pleased to find that where I had planted four tubers last year I dug up four artichoke tubers. Not the best return perhaps.
The pigs and Hetty enjoyed all the quality weeds thrown their way, the pigs particularly like all the soggy onions found amongst them.
Digging was interrupted by an ice cold glass of cider, a leftover pressie from Paul and Anne's visit. The sun was hot, the cider very refreshing and after a brief interlude the digging continued. Another bed done, another ice cold cider. More digging, perhaps not so enthusiastically and definitely less coordinated and then half way along an identical bed I had to stop, just for a medicinal glass, to keep my spirits up and by the end of the third bed and fourth glass the dog was turfed off the sun lounger and I lay back taking in the view across the valley rationalising that any more digging would only hurt my back so better lie here and avoid any chance of injury.

Clouds gathered and my idea of a long siesta was well and truly scuppered by the sound of a large engine. Steve arrived in his huge green tractor bearing two more bales of haylege. Prompted into activity the animals were given second feeds early while in the yard there were ominous signs that we were going to be even more active. William our handsome four year old Welsh Cob was being kitted up for a ride. Now we have had him since he first hatched so he is part of our family now, three years feeding him, clearing up after him and attending to his every whim. Its payback time for horsey. Tracey has already backed him, now begins the breaking part, him being ridden. This is where by beautiful and oh so patient wife is far braver than me. I've only sat on the brute once and he nearly threw me through the bedroom window and being a tad concerned that I might have an even bigger case of broken bones than when I stepped onto the ladder that wasn't there I refuse to get on him unless he is tethered in a padded room. Tracey on the other hand sits on the beast and treats his shenanigans like you would those of an unruly child, telling him to "Stop being naughty!" taking control of him as he bucked and reared where I would have just jumped to the ground and hid until the nasty horsey had gone. I did hold him on a loose lead rope just in case he decided that over the hills and far away was a good place to be but for the majority of the way around the Bonsai Mountain Tracey rode him, bitless bridle and all. He was to be fair a very well behaved pony after the first few minutes when he chucked a mental and got one of the stirrups caught on the ring feeder denting it and pulling the stirrup off the saddle. He even coped well under the scrutiny of these mares who were judging his performance. Not sure what the one in the middle was trying to tell him though.