A quiet day in the country

Tracey has gone to stay at her Mum's to help with her Dad who is still in hospital so I have been left to run the farm by myself. The bonfire from yesterday was still going but that was nothing compered to the conflagration Bethan and I started by mid morning.

When JJ and Kay came up to stay we cleared the hedgerow that kept the garden in eternal darkness. The branches were piled along the lane as at the time we were too busy to clear them properly. These have now been annoying me for a few months now, you can see in the top picture. Today was the day that all changed. For once Bethan was persuaded to come outside after I promised her the sky wouldn't fall in and the strange yellow ball in the heaven was nothing to worry about and she set about the task of clearing the lane with manic enthusiasm.

By lunchtime we, well mostly Beth, had removed the offending branches from the ditch and they were burning furiously on a bonfire by the barn. Our efforts were appreciated by Daffodil our pet Ryeland lamb as each pile of branches moved revealed a nice fresh patch of grass for her to devour. Job done Beth and I had bacon butties and I was wondering what to do next when Steve the electrician appeared in the lane with his little boy. This child knows no fear and once I get his parents permission I might publish a set of pictures of an angelic looking child trying to tug a bramble out of an angelic looking shitland ponies tail. Messing with the dangerous end of Trevor is ill advised at the best of times, however this spectacle was being played out some twenty feet up at the base of the cliff at the back of Rock HQ. Had Trevor done an impression of Buckeroo the little lad would have followed a trajectory like Tigger on acid and may, if lucky, have had his fall cushioned by landing on a fat one armed bloke taking photos. Steve would have been equally unable to assist solve his son's plight as he was carrying a cup of tea and a mug of chocolate milk. If the child survived he would at least have something to take the taste of hooves and blood away.

Why was Steve visiting, well he was lending me a chainsaw.

Me, alone on the farm with a chainsaw, what could possibly go wrong?

I started the beast and remembering the words of Tracey my beautiful and oh so patient wife before she left "Don't do anything I wouldn't do" I decided that what she would do before attacking the trees by the stables with a borrowed chainsaw whilst balancing on a broken ladder using the chainsaw one handed Tracey would practice. So I shouted Bethan to come and help and set off up the lane to prune the Sycamore that blocks all sunlight into the corner of Willow rise. As you can see from the bottom picture the footpath was only blocked for a few hours.

I decided to leave the trees by the stable.


For now.

Same goat different day!

I don't know why she does it, but she does.

Later in the day these two wandered into the workshop like the school bullies intent on picking on Steve the electrician as he finished his work. This time he was ready for them and gave chase using the power drill like a machine gun complete with authentic dakkadakkadakka noises. This quiet chap who is more likely to consult a crystal to find a lay line rather than use a power tool as a pretend lethal weapon took the goats completely by surprise and they ran off down the lane as fast as their cloven feet could carry them. This spectacle was witnessed by Beth, our daughter who was almost as surprised as the goats but stood her ground as a very embarrassed electrician tried to explain that he hadn't gone completely mental and that he only used power tools on goats as a last resort.

We now have lights in the stables, a further delay was caused by a mismatched wire but the power of Steve's crystal saved the day and rather than having to strip the entire wiring system to find the break a quick dangle of his crystal and the faulty switch was magically discovered.

The lights are excellent, almost like daylight in the stables so we can work after dark til the goats come home. I do have one anxiety though, the light at the end, the one that shines into the wilderness is so bright I think aircraft might try and land here instead of the runway over in Shobdon. So far we haven't woken up to a Cessna taxiing along the drive but knowing the weird and wonderful things that happen here its only a matter of time!

Total Commitment!

Here we can see Geisha showing total commitment to stealing more than her fair share of hay.

Having eaten half her body weight she crawled away to a quiet spot in the garden and slept it off.

Its been a quiet day at Rock HQ, the weather was awful this morning, high winds and heavy rain, a typical summers day really. When we dared to go outside the horses took most of our attention, William has chewed his stable so we put up new boards to line the inside walls. This went very well until I demonstrated an extraordinary inability to saw anything like a straight line and pretty soon a straightforward job became an arduous chore that eventually ended when I nearly put a screw through all the wiring waiting to become live once Steve completes the electrical system. Not wanting to cause any more damage I went to see the pigs and fed them some apples and apologised for plotting their demise in 48 hours time.

Beth came back from Canada, obviously she had enjoyed her experience but has decided that there is no place like home.

For once she is absolutely right!

No entry!

Physically I am in a lot of pain, emotionally I am drained.

Quite a day, it began at 5.30 getting ready to take Ben to RAF Brize Norton to catch his plane to Cyprus. I excelled myself by forgetting my proof of identity so was not allowed past the gate which meant that instead of being able to wave him off from the departure lounge after a coffee I had to unceremoniously dump him and his baggage in the car park leaving him to struggle to the transport the other side of the gate.

As I watched him go it suddenly dawned on me that this might be the last time I ever saw him, he is after all intent on being in harms way and by the latest will be deployed in a warzone by next spring. If the rumours prove true instead of returning to the Rock for Christmas he could be sent out early. So as he staggered across the tarmac to the waiting RAF guards I must admit to being quite emotional about it all.

I then had one of those conversations that defines military intelligence. I was parked in a one way system, unable to figure out how to join the Queens highway I walked over to the guard who was currently being obtuse to Ben and asked the way out.

"You have to go through here sir" he said helpfully and far too cheerfully for my liking.

"What through the gate?" I asked

"Yes sir, through the gate and around the roundabout and back out through here sir" he pointed to the barrier behind him while we both watched Ben struggle manfully onwards.

"Through the gate and into the camp that I am not allowed onto as I have no ID."

"Yes sir, stupid isnt it."he grinned.

So I drove through the barrier, past Ben struggling with his bags, around the roundabout where he was to catch the transport and back again, as I passed him the second time he smiled and I shouted goodbye, the guards returned to menacing delivery drivers and I began the long drive to work.

Work was its usual challenge and my colleagues sensing I was emotionally vulnerable very helpfully told me to grow a set and tormented me with chips while I stuck steadfastly to my healthy eating regime.

Beth, who is in Canada then contacted me, she might be coming home early suffering from acute homesickness, hardly a surprise when you consider how fantastic it is living here, she is even missing the dogs, I didn't tell her that there are a few more than when she left.

Physically in pain, well just a bit. Today was the day I decided to go for a run, for the first time since my accident some proper physical exercise and the first time on a run for around four years. I did surprisingly well, managing a mile at a steady pace with my long time running partner Simon, who is now exacting revenge for all the times I tormented him when I was superfit, before blowing my lungs out of my backside after a particularly taxing stretch of hill. Luckily we were running cross country and the general public were spared exposure to a fat bloke puffing and waddling along with his friend laughing, I mean encouraging him to keep going.

Back at the ranch I managed to stop myself from crying from the pain long enough to have a coffee and pretend all was well. Next Tuesday we are going again and I hope to be able to make it all the way around Worzel Wood before dieing.

Now, I need my bed, which I would go to if only I could manage the stairs.

Good times!

A great day at Rock HQ, lots of good news.

Beth has passed her A levels and has done really well so we celebrated with a bottle of fizz and a whole host of msg from the takeaway, which was definitely the last time ever. Beth is riding the wave of success and loving the attention, the flowers and chocolates from her boyfriend Tom, the phone calls and text messages telling her she is a star. We always knew that but now she has certificates to prove it and one is an ology just like mine. Who knows where she might end up.

More good news is that our lovely Berners have passed their exams too, both have passed the hip and elbow scoring which means they can have puppies next year. This will undoubtedly be a trial for us as if and when they have a litter we wont want to get rid of any. I am already composing a dog ownership exam for any potential Bernese Mountain Dog owner and will probably visit to make sure they are going to a nice home. Entrance into the SAS will be easier than taking a puppy from Rock HQ!

The poor starving sheep is still alive and so far has consumed four pound of high calorie feed and is currently munching her way through half a bale of hay. She seems quite happy with her choice of quarters and the lump on her jaw may be a bit smaller.

All this and the sun was shining for most of the day too.

Oh and the pigs are getting fatter.

Bloody Kids!

No matter how many problems, mishaps, or nightmares our animals cause us they pale into insignificance compared to those created by our children.

Today was well planned, feed the animals, clear out their mess, tidy the house, breakfast, narrate a dance show (long story, tell you next week) assist in the sheep shearing, bar b que with friends and a few beers to mark the longest day of the year.

As it was rain stopped play for the shearing, the sheep have to be dryish or the wool won't separate from the sheep. But we were on track to do the rest, OK the bar b que was off and moved indoors, but the rest was definitely doable.

Until the phone rang. It was Ben.

Remember him? He's the Army Officer, tough guy, cool dude and ace planner. Sandhurst trained.

His car had broken down in Bristol after he had dropped his girlfriend off at the airport. He thought he had RAC cover, they thought different. He thought he had money in the bank to pay a garage to fix it, the bank told him otherwise. He thought he had plenty of time to get back to his base and get on the transport to go to Belize, but the clock was ticking and time like his options were running out.

I thought I was going to have a busy day ticking jobs off the list, instead I found myself driving to Bristol Airport to rescue our eldest. Beth came along as she had RAC cover and we hoped to persuade the nice garage people to recover the car back to Rock HQ. We found him feeling very sorry for himself having the worst day of his life by the roadside. The car was defiantly not drivable, the clutch had failed. I topped up the fluid level but still it wouldn't go. The garage was on its way, hour and half wait. At this point Ben dropped the time limit bombshell, he had to be back at base, waiting 90 minutes would mean he missed the plane. We left Beth with the car to be recovered and set off. The only worry I had was if the garage fixed the car she would be uninsured, still that was unlikely.

Sure enough we got sixty miles away and the garage had fixed it, no need to transport it back. Not able to go back to fetch her and leave Ben with the now usable car I carried on and dropped him off at the Barracks. Beth was now three hours and 120 miles away in a car she couldn't drive. I got back to Rock HQ and did the only thing I could think of to solve it, spent more of the banks money on insuring Beth to drive. She got back about six pm, tired out having taken one for the team.

Ben has since phoned, very grateful but still in bits from the trauma of saying goodbye to his girlfriend and us.

Beth soon recovered and has taken her brothers car out for a drive as its a better car than hers.

I am having a huge single malt, fathers day did have its pluses, and contemplating the size of the jobs list carried over to tomorrow, that all I did today was drive miles, spend money and how much easier animals are to look after than kids.

The Team Works

There are times when you feel like your not making any progress as far as smallholding is concerned. There are other times like in the last few days when you feel that finally the plans are coming together. Here for example is a picture of the work in progress on the stable block where we have taken a slight liberty and built it slightly bigger than originally planned for. Careful observers might see the tack room and goat dairy on the back. Well it was going to be 32 foot long and now its only 24 so it seems only fair we stick the missing bit on the back. No will ever know, no one ever bothers to venture up our lane.

So we got cheap concrete from our neighbours, Karl and the others put the base down and the stable sprites have been erecting the building while we are out at work. Never having seen the magical pixies that are busily constructing the wooden wonder we always got excited at home time wondering what they had been up to while we were away. Sometimes it looked like not much had been going on and we were disappointed, perhaps they had just dropped new piles of wood in the lane, and other times we were delighted to find they had been very busy little sprites and walls were up or roof joists were assembled and fitted. They are a month behind schedule though but you cant tell them off lest they disappear for good!

Now as I had been project managing the kennels, goat houses and retaining wall these busy sprites had been working around the over order of timber, bags of sand and 160 extra concrete blocks. I knew they would have to be moved, mainly because if we wanted to use the stables the blocks blocked one of the door ways. Now William is an agile beast but even he has his limitations. So the extra building materials must be moved, but I kept putting it off. It was going to be a hard job!

We accidentally met the chief sprite in the lane after a busy days toil, bad news he said, as he leaned out of his big white chariot, what I cried, thinking oh no has the bank returned the cheque, have the planning people been around.

No worse than that, it was the day, the day that the sprite decided the blocks must be moved.

By us, not by magic.

Damn!

I only have one functioning arm so using a wheelbarrow is a hell of a challenge but I gave it a go for amusements sake if nothing else, carefully placing four of the concrete blocks in the barrow I attempted to lift it. Not a good idea as I felt the metal work in my left arm twang. So I took two out and cautiously tried again, success and soon the two blocks were transported across the yard and lined up along the fence. Tracey came to help after cleaning out the kennel block and after an hour and a half of toil we had moved forty blocks. I could not remember why I had ordered so many of the biggest, heaviest concrete blocks on the market. Our backs were breaking and we needed help.

I gave the secret call.

The team assembled, Ben (our son) Tom (Beth's boyfriend) Tracey provided the muscle and Beth provided the coffee while I provided much needed moral support as they set about the task. Within an hour they had moved the 120 blocks and stacked them so they looked like a concrete homage to the Terra Cotta warriors, twenty concrete statues now guard the lane and entrance to the Kennels.

Thank you team.

And as for no one ever coming up our lane, well a large green four by four nudged its way through the throng of dogs and poultry that gathered round to welcome it. I eyed it with suspicion.

Strangers!!

A man got out and looked at the building site and then me. I looked at the blocks, the wood, the concrete and the extra bit and then at him. He introduced himself, our local councillor.

Panic.

Will we vote for him in the local elections.

Relief.