Family outing

With the Bonsai Mountain as our back garden, when the critters allow we like to get out and explore. I like o walk, my beautiful and oh so patient wife likes to ride and thanks to a marvelous piece of kit from Jack Wolfskin I can carry the apprentice smallholder which means we all get to enjoy the great outdoors.


We were fully prepared for all eventualities having mobile phones, 24 hour ration pack, spare clothing, nappies, two dogs and a spare shitland pony who wasn't at all annoying the whole trip up to the Whet stone on the ridge. We played statues and as it was getting late, and looking like rain we set off home

All making it back in time for tea and medals. Even Trevor. The most annoying pony ever.

Little Monster

The apprentice smallholder loves the Gruffallo books, not sure he's going to appreciate being made to dress the part when he's older so while we can get away with it we will.

The 1% club

The calm of Rock HQ this morning was in complete contrast to last nights adventures. In the time it took to fetch a bucket of water to Kayleigh, walk back to the water trough and refill the bucket ready for morning, Iggle who had just munched through her late evening rations before quaffing down a couple of litres of ice cold spring water dropped on the straw a massively large but exceptionally dead boar piglet.
My beautiful and oh so patient wife was quicker off the mark than I was and she got to the pregnant porkers side first perched on the magic blue bucket (the one with allure) wearing wicket keepers gloves ready for piglet number two, which if anything like Mangalitza piglet births are expelled at high velocity. I, being totally practical and knowing the torch would fade to black within ten minutes abused Hazel and got her up the slope and into the Corral OK where here lights set the stage for the main show.
We waited. And waited. And then some.
Half an hour had passed, Iggle was pushing, not very well, but trying and achieving nothing. Not sure if the James Herriot books actually covered pig midwifery but assuming it had to be pretty much like sheep but with sharper teeth and less wool I put a tentative hand inside Iggles bits. A head, jaw, sharp pointy teeth, another large piglet, she pushed and I pulled and out popped an equally big piglet, not nearly so dead, a girl, but she soon gave up any attempt to stay around and be future sausages. Things were not looking great and then got a whole lot worse when piglet the third started coming out arse end first. No real problem, Google how to be birth partner to a saw and it will tell you that 40% of piglets come out rear end first and that only 1% of sows require help. Knowing full well which statistic now lay heaving at our knees we clung on to the hope that Iggle would keep calm and carry on. No such luck. Minutes became hours, she walked around, squatted, played on the big inflatable ball, we offered her a curry, all to no avail. I rather rudely copped a feel around inside and could not move piglet, I knew the theory, get the legs facing back but after half an hour of furtling around the three of us, me, Iggle and potential offspring made no progress. After an hour and a half the vet was called. Paul who was disappointed to miss the birth of Kobe the calf now had an opportunity to make up for it by helping Iggle. By the time he got here piglet had been stuck for two hours and Iggle was falling asleep. Under the headlights he set about trying to free the piglet. Hope was fading, the likelihood was that this and any remaining offspring would be still born. Fifteen minutes and a lot of grunting, not all from the pig, Paul told us he had got one leg forward, another five and the second leg, time slowed as he matched a heave to Iggles push and another large piglet joined us. It lay on the floor with the three of us watching for vital signs. It sneezed, coughed, rolled around and sprang to its feet. Not what any of us was expecting (its now called Gloria, as in I will survive) but it lifted the mood and pretty soon three more sows, all born head first, were clambering around the sty demanding breakfast.

His work done Paul had a quick look at Kobe, complimented Rock HQ on its fertility and left. I stayed in the pen until 3am as Iggle refused to sleep, being a bit sore she was still thinking that she had other piglets to come. We knew different. Finally she gave in, not before squishing a piglet but as I was there all was well.
Today the lack of sleep caught up with us all, Iggle has managed not to crush any piglets and they are a healthy happy bunch.
Thankfully the threat of rain all day was an ideal excuse not to concrete, instead we spent time playing with little t, trying to work out how to get Hazel back off the Corral OK, watching piglets and stroking the calf. There are too many time wasting opportunities here now.

Happy Birthday

It seems no time since this little chap arrived bringing joy and countless smiles to our world. Yet here we are a whole year gone, we now have a one year old, his life no longer measured in weeks and months, little t's birthday. So many presents, so many thank yous, it took so long to unwrap the massive gift pile that our plan to visit a small breeds farm as a birthday treat (well he doesn't have much opportunity to see animals does he.....) was shelved for another time, instead he engaged in his favourite pastime and charmed customers in a local tea shop. Being the sociable sort he called out to all and sundry offering lemon drizzle cake.

Despite a ban several toys made it through the not allowed if it makes a noise embargo, the wooden xylophone was a real hit (get it?) as was the book on fire engines that made a siren noise that he loves to hate, screaming along with it while crawling for cover. We bought him a Noah's Ark, it makes all sorts of noises, mainly animal, one suspicious sound like the arks sinking and a passable foghorn.
Hours of fun.
If he's good I'll share it with him.

Don't lock back in anger

The tale of little t's birthday tea will have to wait, suffice to say it went everso well and thanks to all those that came and made it such a joyous day. I have just got back in from the evening rounds (10.24pm) having broken one of my own little rituals with comic/disastrous results dependent on which side of the door you were. The workshop is bolted and locked with a slide type bolt that has two lugs on it, you slide the bolt back and it locks into place, a padlock through the lug stops it moving without the key to the lock. I ALWAYS slide bolt back to lug two and place padlock back on lug one, locked in place but allowing the bolt to be used, sliding back and forth. Tonight for some insane reason I locked the padlock on lug two, locking the bolt open, even as I did it I thought you don't normally do this, why have you done this, what if something happens and you cannot get the lock off, the bolt is locked open, you wont be able to close the door.

Pah what could happen I chastised myself, get on with it.

So I did.

And in doing so something inevitably happened to the padlock. A big Bernese dog charged through the door slamming it into the newly arranged pile of logs bending the key in the padlock. Metal fatigue and impatience meant that the key snapped, just at the point that my beautiful and oh so patient wife offered to apply the gentle touch that might have prevented the catastrophic metal failure.

Several attempts were made to turn the shard of metal wedged in the lock, an enterprise made much more amusing by the security light deciding to switch off every ten seconds forcing frantic waving of spare limbs to reactivate it. The search for the spare key was pointless but done, as was the lets try every key we have in the vain hope it fits.

As I pondered the merits of having bought a lock that was reportedly hack saw proof the patient one offered I could shoot it off like they did in the movies. Luckily I can tell when she is being serious, this was not one of those times.

Eventually by use of a persuader (hammer) crowbar, cold chisel and heavy duty bolt cutters the lock was prised off the door (the metal lug was severed from the bolt mechanism, the padlock despite a furious attack with a log splitter remained shiny, unmarked and annoyingly locked) and launched into next week. Meantime the Berner who remained on the inside, the Rockmeister, seized the opportunity to polish off all the remaining birthday treats on the dining table.
See evidence above, he even picked all the cheese off as pickled onions are not his favourite. Bless him.

Fitting it all in

As its the weekend, and most importantly a sunny one (so far anyway) there was no time for lounging around, things had to be done such as move several ton of logs off the drive so a tractor could deliver breakfast to some very hungry herbivores. The usual routine got a hammering in double quick time and the runway was cleared of horse and cow debris.
Tracey, my beautiful and oh so patient wife (horsewoman of the year) took Chester out for a spin meeting up up with Mrs Stable Sprite and Alfie and did what horsey types refer to as going for a hack. I could at this point tell you a very funny tale thats been in this weeks tabloids where a distant relative refused to let Zara Phillips (13th or so in line to the throne) in to a three day event as her mum, Princess Ann was already inside and had Zara's ticket. There is no truth in the rumour that cousin Tim said "I dont care who your mum is unless you pay up £12.50 your not coming in" Eventually Tim and Zara were rescued by someone who was more up to date with those who appear in OK magazine. Anyway, I wont mention that.

As they were off on a jolly the apprentice smallholder and I went for a hike in the hope that our paths would cross, and also to take some moody shots of local abandoned architecture.

Little t liked the falling down chapel,

and the empty house was looking good as a fixer upper

looking even more idylic when the horsey types apeared

but the view across the road was a clue that it wasnt so peacefull all the time. The Quarry bought most of the propertys close to it so as to have a free reign on noise, dust and digging.

Back at the ranch the pigs got mucked out and the doings spread over the garden in the hope that it will add some fertility to the heavy clay "soil". The plan to build raised beds with the tyres is still a plan, several hours of the day that could have been spent doing that was in fact spent assembling another Chinese import for little t's birthday, a sitinpushalonglooknopedals car, its red so it goes faster, but as this plastic kit was put together while watching the defeat of England at the hands of Wales it wasnt all time wasted.

Final tasks of the day apart from the evening routine was to make a birthday cake for tomorrows birthday tea. The kitchen now looks like a scene from Saw3D as yours truly had an accident with the red food colouring and in trying to make amends actually made it a whole lot worse. A little red food colouring goes an awful long way. Its now late and I feel like as tired as little t looked at the end of our trek. Tomorrow our pigs arrive from the land of the Stable Sprite. Another early start if we are going to fit all of tomorrow in.

As sure as eggs is eggs

Its been a brilliant day, despite the mud, the insane antic of animals, the blizzard that hit HQ just as I decided it was evening rounds, its been a great day. All is well in our world. Red Kite Fostering is flying high, feedback from the multi agency teams we work with is all good and the 22 people at today's training all enjoyed meeting new members of the team. They also met little t who surprised us all by eating an egg sandwich ( a small part of the huge feast provided by the 22 at training who each bought a plate of food to share for lunch) , a first for little t as the two previous encounters with egg (see above for encounter 2) ended with him launching obviously offensive food product across the room to feed waiting canines.

Nothings simpler

As if life isnt complicated enough at Rock HQ what with mentalist ponies engaged in blood fueds over who should have the stable with hot and cold running horse treats, cows with the morals of alley cats and better gymnastic skills than the Russian Olympic squad and agoraphobic goats that deploy lethal gas as you grope in the dark for the milk taps, then whats needed to fill in any "spare" time is a childs toy, bought by paternal grandparents as a Christmas gift, that when finally released from its box, falls across the floor in a spectacular rainbow waterfall of bright plastic chunks amongst which is a small unobtrusive scrap of paper that states "Some adult assembly required"

This when translated means adult will have to spend best part of an evening sorting, identifying, opening bags containing 1.3 million microscopic screws, marrying up butterfly stickers and luridly coloured envelope stickers with appropriatly shaped slabs of plastic and then assembling childs toy that helpfully comes with a 17 page instruction booklet in 19 languages none of which are a recognisable form of English whilst at the same time preventing infant from pulling bags over head, eating the smaller bits or pulling hammer off cupboard onto head.

When finally assembled grateful infant stopped sobbing (the tantrum from stopping self inflicted injuries surpassed in volume the cries of same infant terrified by parents use of powertools necessary to finish job a Chinese factory worker started) long enough to advance on new large plastic construction, pat it gingerly, twiddle the twiddly thing before returning to toy of choice, a blue wooden brick with two holes in. Parent notes that small wooden brick is part of a larger number of wooden bricks which would if time allowed create a mutli dimensional brightly coloured wooden train. Suddenly murderous equines, tarty bovines and farting goats seem less of a problem.


div>

Catching up

The jobs list was attacked today and for once I didn't create havoc and add more than were ticked off. This was probably due to the fact that I was ordered outside by my beautiful and oh so patient wife so she could carry on where Stable Sprite left off in the DIY on little t's bedroom. I was allowed in now and then, mostly when some item of furniture needed moving. I decided not to pass comment one the fact that the furniture placed in the room was moved round in every conceivable combination until the patient one decided on an arrangement that was the mirror image of how it was first placed. I did manage to put up a set of shelves in one corner that, when painted, will resemble a jungle tree, there is a theme going on here. I stupidly asked what sort of jungle had a green tractor coat hook, the response was to the point, the type of jungle that has blue and white zebras. The apprentice smallholder was introduced to this wonderland and I assume him throwing himself on the floor and crying his eyes out meant that he appreciated our efforts.

Another perfect day

Another perfect day here at Rock HQ, a full rainbow heralded sunshine while we went about the morning routine,

peace and harmony reigned and all creatures great and small, those with pet status and those who are part of the food chain settled down to breakfast together. All was well with the world with the exception of the non rodent newly categorised lagomorphs or rabbits who had decided spring had come early (we have had a couple of days of glorious sunshine) and so dug a tunnel from the boys hutch in an effort to reach the girl bunnies. This is quite an achievement as to do this required the two males to gnaw a hole the size of an elephant (thus challenging the belief that all animals can pass through a hole exactly one half their body size) in the side of their hutch. This then allowed them to free fall to terra firma and attempt rudimentary carpentry on the girls hutch. The rising sun saved the day and the arrival of critters of various sizes forced the rogue lagomorphs to seek shelter in the tin pile at the back of the stable. Strategically placed foodstuffs enticed one out and back into pokey but the dominant male exerted his authority by refusing to play ball and is as I type still under some heavy metal.

The day ended perfectly with a circuit of the Bonsai Mountain with little t in his new carrier, we didn't find Pedro though which is a shame. Tomorrow I am going to take a different route to see if the happy wanderer is along the trail. The militia are being helpful in looking for our missing ram, Crispen and Levi were returned today on the back of a quad bike, we thanked the militia for his his help and didn't have the heart to tell him that both boys return every single day for breakfast. Still its the thought that counts.