Early doors saw us squelching around the smallholding enjoying the summer weather (WooZah looks like how I felt) knowing that today was the day the question would be answered. Could a 6 wheeler get up our lane and deliver 16 tons of gravel. Amidst the bird song another sound could be heard, the low growl of a turbocharged diesel engine.
From the dense greenery of the lane the rear end of a massive truck appeared moving so purposefully that I barely had time to take this picture before it squeezed between the green Valentines trolley ( a very romantic gift from yours truly to my beautiful and oh so patient wife) and my trusty steeds.
I went to greet the driver expecting a colourful Celtic burst of profanities questioning my parentage for having made him reverse uphill for nearly a third of a mile. Instead I was met by a very cheerful chap called Fabio who could not have been more helpful. A nice contrast to the 8 wheeler driver who dropped off 300 concrete blocks in 2008 who I though had tourettes. Fabio was obviously made of sterner stuff and was able to take his truck where others feared to place their tread. He even patted our psychopathic shitland in a friendly way before nearly burying him in Herefordshire's best gravel. The type of gravel the quarry refused to recognise the name of, and the same that they tried to charge 2.5 times per ton more than the jolly nice builders merchants at Presteigne.
Fabio strategically dumped several piles of stone ready for yours truly's next mantest.
So tomorrow me and the wheelbarrow look like we are in for a busy day as all this has to be moved before the delivery of the play area bark, another wheelbarrow marathon, and the arrival of hayledge and straw. Should be a challenge, especially given the severe weather warning.
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