A really big yawn from a little puppy!
Friday, 3 April 2009
Its tough being a kid
Sometimes its tough being a kid, especially a billy kid. These happy goats on their first family outing since they were born are wandering into the Cauldron in the spring sunshine sampling the greenery on offer.
If you look closely you might detect a slight awkward gait in Ambrose and Archie. They were castrated today, poor lads are now no longer and are now whats known as Wethers. Being male in the animal kingdom sometimes means you have drawn the short straw. Hopefully they will be sold on as pets, if not they may end up as the main ingredients of a Caribbean theme night.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
On Guard
Being a Mum is suiting Reba, she is very attentive and looks very proud of herself. The cats have had to get used to a change though, instead of cuddling up to them like she used to she will not tolerate their presence in the house. We even found her taking time out of the whelping box to stand guard over the cat flap. None shall pass!
Birthday Boy
Ben made a flying visit to Rock HQ to wish me a Happy Birthday, he might be a rufty tufty soldier but he still goes all gooey over little puppies. He's not so tough!
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Sweet and sour
One of the nice things about living where we do is the time people have for you. Its almost impossible to pass by without engaging in conversation. Some miserable ramblers try it now and then but I soon force them to break their vow of silence.Its a common occurrence round here to find that the person you are talking to is either related to, or a friend of the last person you met or spoke of. Tonight for example I was chatting to the Oracle as I dropped off our monthly bin bag at the bottom of the hill. As he covered a great many topics at breakneck speed I found he had been at the same funeral yesterday as a colleague of mine from work, he knew their mother, father, cousins, their jobs, addresses and pretty much their life story. Small world.
As we lent on the five bar gate watching the sunset and putting the world to rights I happened to mention that I had recently walked over the hills behind which the sun was about to set.
He told me that years ago he used to walk up there to pick Winberries, small Blueberry like fruits that used to be very popular summer fruits in rural hill communities. Unlike Blueberries they grow on small scrub like bushes and collecting them is back breaking work for what most now consider little reward. They are in fact delicious and worth the effort, but anyway I digress.
He told me how as a child he and his friends used to go up onto the hills to gather the precious fruits to sell in the market. They were usually beaten to the best patches by an old crone like woman who was an expert berry picker. They would look on with envy at her full baskets and wonder if they would ever get the better of her.
They thought their time had come when one day they followed in her wake walking miles in the summer heat, picking over the remnants trying to fill their empty baskets. She had over a dozen dotted around the hill brimful of shiny black berries when they found an enormous fresh patch bursting with ripe fruit.
This was their chance, her baskets were full, she would have to leave them to it. In the words of the Oracle, "No word of a lie she took her sweaty drawers off, them bloomer types and tied a knot in each leg and filled em, took the lot! There must have been pounds and pounds in them and then she went off in to town and sold the blooming lot."
He paused for breath and turned to face me exclaiming "Do you know, I wonder to this day, who the hell ate them!" He grimaced and looked across the valley back at the hills, "Pounds and pounds in them there was, took her hours to fill em."
There was a few moments silence between us before he added "The tiny things they wear nowadays they'd fill in a minute!"
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