Saturday, September 22, 2012

A tale of derring-do, lambs and my jeans...

Here we go again. No blogs for months, then two at once.

This is a fairly typical bouncy fat lamb, very naughty.
As most readers know, I am not a mother and not much given to maternal instinct. Give me a puppy instead of a baby anytime, quite frankly. Yet over the years it has become apparent that I have a peculiar affinity with lambs. I've no time for sheep, stupid things, but lambs... they are terribly sweet and so well-meaning but, when all’s said and done, not too bright either.

By some peculiar twist of fate in among the general noise of farm life I can distinguish a 'bah' or a 'bleat' that says 'help' from all the other bah-ing that’s going on. I’ve fished out lambs from pools of pooh, I’ve pulled them out of brambles, from between hedges and fences and extracted their trapped legs from branches, hedges, gates - you name it, I’ve done it. But by far the most popular lamb rescue is the 'head in the fence' job.

This was one of my first livestock encounters when I moved her some 17 years ago. I’d been kept awake all one summer’s night by the repetitive, rather sonorous, ‘bah’ of a lamb in the field behind the house. Unable to stand it any longer, I’d marched out at 5am to find it stuck fast with its head in the fence.

Now, fencing on farms is an interesting subject - believe me, it is. They clearly play
a key role in the very structure and life of a farm and yet farmers seem to have a totally cavalier attitude towards them. If a fence falls down, prop it up in a half-hearted manner. If a hole appears, stick something totally unsuitable in the gap, like an old wooden pallet, or better still, try lashing it together with bailer twine.

Greg, of course, is the past master at fence mending. He has fences that would earn Tracey Emmin a Turner prize. He could probably stage his own exhibition at Tate Modern given the chance. No gap is too large or gateway too small to be half-blocked up and rendered useless with bits of corrugated iron, old hurdles, broken bits of farm machinery and, of course, yards and yards of bailer twine.

I digress, anyway on a livestock farm, fencing will generally be of pig (larger) or sheep (smaller) netting - wire fencing made of squares, think of it as the big brother of chicken wire - topped off with strands of barbed wire. Effective as a fence, yes, but I never cease to be amazed at how accurately the manufacturers must have taken measurements to exactly fit the head of a sheep. Brilliant!
The sheep, or big lamb in most cases, sees an irresistible blade of grass and just has to have it as it’s better than any other blade of grass in the vicinity. Trouble is, it’s the other side of the fence. This is no problem for the sheep as its head fits snuggly through the nice squares in the fence. Well, it does when it reaches through with its head at an angle. Very comfy. The trouble comes when it wants to get out again.

As the lamb attempts to reverse the move, the backs of its ears come into contact with the square sides of the netting. So it stops. It is quite beyond the wit of a lamb to turn its head at an angle as it can’t see behind it, nor to understand that its ears do actually have a bit of ‘give’ in them. So, there it stands, in its mind trapped by some dreadful device that has crept up behind it and accosted its ears.

And so the bah-ing starts.

My first sheep rescue was rather unbecoming. Dressed randomly in whatever was around, it being 5am, I tentatively approached the lamb (these are big woolly lambs, not the little bouncy sweet things you see at Easter) and attempted to wrench its head out. At which point my (slightly) superior intellect realised I needed to turn its head to get it on the diagonal for the extra space. Not being au fait with livestock at this stage in my ‘countrification’, I got astride the lamb as I rather cautiously turned its head to release it.

Having spent all night trapped you’d think it would be:
A. tired and B. extremely grateful.
Not a bit of it. Having been thrusting itself wildly into the fence to try and escape as I approached, the moment it was free it shot backwards with great strength and speed and then legged it to join its pals. I was unceremoniously dumped on my backside in a dew-soaked field in slippers and shorts well before breakfast time.

The one on the right is showing its teeth, very amusing,
well, to me anyway...
Well, the latest lamb incident occurred on Friday. As Tilly and I sauntered back down the hill, my finely-tuned ear picked up the ‘bah’ of an unhappy sheep. I located it up in the field near the gate onto the Back Lane.

“Hello,” I said rather pointlessly as sheep aren’t known for their conversation, “You’ve got your head stuck, haven’t you?”

“Bah,” came the reply from above me. I staggered up the steep path to the old metal gate (nicely tied in place and unable to open). As I climbed over the gate, I heard a ripping sound - ‘Hmmmm’ I thought. The trapped sheep was, by this time, doing the ‘flinging itself into the fence’ routine in a desperate bid to force its entire body through the small square of netting.

“Stop that!” I commanded and grabbed two handfuls of fleece and shook it. This always seems to stop them struggling and they then, unhelpfully, go limp. Remembering not to stand astride it, I reached forward, deftly flicked back the left ear turned its head and pulled it out. It all took about 5 seconds. I must say, I was pretty impressed by my technique, honed over all the years. The rescued lamb proceeded to bounce a couple of times, as they do, and then bolted away to join its pals.

Job done, and feeling rather heroic, I clambered back over the gate, to a further ripping sound accompanied this time, by a sudden thrill of cold metal on flesh. My jeans had rent asunder and I could truly claim to have managed the latest lamb rescue by the seat of my pants. Damn it.

Autumn is definitely here...

Oh for goodness sake! It's such a long time since I managed a blog, it's just taken me 10 minutes to work out how to create a new one... honestly... anyway, with no further ado, here it is.

Moretonhampstead in the distance

Autumn is definitely here. This morning’s dog walk was glorious, the air crisp and the sunshine brilliant, with everything in high-definition glistening with the morning dew.

The wildlife was very active, lots of rustling in the hedgerows and small shapes flitting about, always just out of view… the cold mornings must kick-start their winter preparations. In the wall at home, our bank vole is rushing around industriously gathering his supplies for the winter months.

At the top of the back lane, I stopped and leant against the gate to enjoy one of my favourite views down the Wray valley. The sheep in the field were dozy in the sunshine and stood about looking as if they’d only just woken up. Deep shadows in the foreground, and the view disappearing in the very strong sunlight… this view includes the lovely little hill - it’s almost conical, with a tree growing on the top - that I refer to as Cromwell’s Knob. Oliver is reputed to have massed his troops in that area, and I always fancy he would have done it on the little hill as it’s such a good vantage point. Complete nonsense probably as anymore than 20 or so people and they probably wouldn’t fit and I think Mr Cromwell had a pretty healthy following in this part of the world.

Middle barn looking lovely, if decrepit, in the morning sun
Above me in, the beech hedge, a robin started singing - such a magical sound. Another bird nearby, I think a wren, politely waited for the robin to stop and then performed a little solo of its own, before letting the robin carry on.

I’ve never paid much attention to birds but now I’m aware of them all the time - clearly an age thing. I am much more aware of nature around me everywhere these days, I find it far more interesting than anything else, it’s so endlessly fascinating and birds in particular, are so diverse. I’m quite good at identifying them, but I need to brush up on their songs as I’m never sure who’s singing unless I can see them, like the robin.

Study birdlife and you’ll see our own world in miniature - the youngsters fighting to make their mark and define their territory, all the punch-ups over sex… the home-making, feeding and protecting the young, the bullying robins, the chattering blue tits, the murderous sparrowhawk… and so it goes on in a glorious colourful, feathery, twittery world.

The air was so clear this morning all the colours were vibrant, the lichen on the middle barn was a deep ochre and the sky the most stunning blue.

Sheep in Pond Field, chewing ernestly...
As I finished the walk, the sheep were all lazing about under one of trees in Pond Field, chewing peacefully and taking no notice of Tilly or myself, all very serene and pastoral. Definitely one of those mornings when you want to run around like an idiot whooping and rejoicing in the beauty of it all. Needless to say, I didn't... I just plodded home and had some coffee. but it has lifted the spirits enormously.

These days for convenince, I tend to only take my iPhone with me, so the quality of the photos is a bit average. Once it gets misty and more interesting, I might venture out with the 'proper' camera and take some decent shots... watch this space....

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Guest Blog: Tilly introduces herself...

Due to work pressures, I have been unable to write my blog, so I am going to call upon the occasional guest blogger.

The first is Tilly Wherrell. She is an eight-year old bitch of indeterminate parentage, and comes from nearby Bridford. She has lived with us since she was two and I can honestly say life has never been quite the same since…

Dog Blog
“Hiya!!!!!! How exciting is THIS!! Wow! She’s actually letting me have a go - been wanting to have a bark on the blog for ages!

Well, what can I tell you about myself? Um… well I am black with four very white paws and a white tummy - I am pretty cute!! I’m really, really fussy about my appearance and I like to look my best! I am the only dog here now, the Old One went to sleep a while ago so I get ALL the fuss, which is just great!!

I live with Her and Him. She says I am neurotic - I don’t know what this is, but as it’s got ‘new’ in it, I think that means it must be good! He says I am ‘A bloody nuisance” and always tells me to “Calm down”. I’ve no idea what either of these things mean, but he says it a lot - so I think that must be really good too!!!!!

When I get too, too excited, my teeth chatter. The old bloke that comes here, they call him The Old Git, he says my teeth “Go like castanets”. I don’t know what these are either, but it makes Him laugh so they must be really funny things. I get excited A LOT so I clack my teeth A LOT and sometimes I quiver all over - and that’s just amazing!!

What else can I tell you about me? Um… well, what about some of my likes and dislikes? I like my dinner, oh yes I do! I love the biscuits, I love the meat and I really love the yogurt!

I tell you something I don’t like - I don’t like that big black thing in the lounge that they put bits of wood in. It makes crackling noises and when they open the doors there’s all this orange stuff jumping about inside. I always go and hide in Her office when they start using that thing. I don’t really know why they do it. I mean, what’s the point? They sit in front of it and they fall asleep, so it isn’t any fun at all.

I like chasing my ball - actually I LOVE it! They have a thing they use to help them throw the ball further - and that’s really good! He throws it ever so, ever so far! Sometimes, so far that I can’t see where it lands! He’s really funny then, ’cos He jumps up and down and He makes lots of noise and often waves His arms about and points! I just love that - such fun! I run round and round to amuse Him. But even though I try my best to encourage Him, He never seems to be able to find the ball again. I think he might be a bit stupid sometimes. Funny, but stupid.

I always try to be really, really helpful, but I think sometimes I get it wrong - LOL!!! The other day we went and stood in a field and He made loads of noise with this thing called a chainsaw and cut up the trees that had fallen down. She was there picking up bits of wood and putting them in the car - how weird is that? Why would you want to put the tree in the car?! I mean, come on!! At one point, She said “Why is that stupid dog frightened of the fire, but is happy to stand next to a working chainsaw?” She is stupid. She just doesn’t understand how a dog’s mind works.

Anyway, I started helping by picking up the wood and moving it too. I was getting pretty good at it I can tell you, and I’d built up my own little pile of wood right in the middle of a nice muddy bit - then She comes over shouting and waving Her arms about (very funny!) and the next thing, She’s on the ground next to me - which was just hilarious! She called me a ‘ bloody nuisance’ which I know is a good thing to be, and rubbed Her knee where She fell down. So I gave her a really big lick, right in the eye, and then I stuck my nose in her ear! It was great! She thought so too as She jumped up really quickly and started playing and running after me!

I do like to make them happy if I can. For instance, when I get to sit next to Him on the sofa, which isn’t very often as She is usually there… I sometimes lean against him and then I stick my tongue right in His ear! This is fantastic! He has furry ears, a bit like me, and when I do it, He jumps up and goes “Urgh!” and “Argh!” and shouts things like “That’s so disgusting!!” and I love it!

I wag my tail a lot. And I mean A LOT. I am just a happy sort of girl!! They love this too, especially when they have Others in to visit. I love to go round and say “Hello” to them all, and I clack my teeth and I smile and I wag my tail and they all shriek and grab those clear things they drink out of and some of them jump up! There’s often a sort of smashing noise and they run about even more and bring cloths and start crawling around on the floor rubbing the carpet - so of course I give them a lick!! It’s just too much fun!! I am the centre of the party - LOL!!!!!

After that, I quite often find myself shut in Her office. It’s cosy and I have a bed under Her desk. That’s how I know about the Blog things as she talks about it so much. But that’s just like Her, she always talks about it, but never seems to do it. They are funny - honestly!!

Right, well it’s time for my afternoon walk now, so I’ll go and prod Him to remind him. He’s got a terrible memory you know.

Bye for now
Tilly xxxxxxxx

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Two blogs in one day – is this wise?

Two blogs in one day – is this wise? At this stage, I think I'm still 'scene setting', so bear with me.
Thank you if you've decided to follow my blog. The content will be pretty random, there are lots of things I'm interested in and will be writing about – from my life here in Devon, my wonderfully eccentric friends, my animals, the books I enjoy reading and, of course, regular bouts of ranting.
So, if you're still reading and you're still interested, I'll tell you the real reason for my blog – I need your help. I've been wrestling with a novel, or possibly more accurately, a memoir, for the past 12 years. I've written about 60,000 words but, somewhere along the way, I've lost the plot, wobbled off course and ended up in a ditch. What I need is some fresh input, to tell me what works and what doesn't.
I've gone to writing groups, on writing courses, read books on how to write – and still can't finish it. I think it's commonly called Writer's Block.
I don't think it helps that I write for a living. After a hard day at the keyboard crafting flowing prose for anything as diverse as a holiday park, a jewellery shop or a breakfast cereal, it's hard to then sit down in your 'spare time' and start writing again. But this is all an excuse of course.
I turned 50 this year and I have a feeling of 'now or never'. Some of the people I've written about in my lovely, mad, Devon life have already died. My beloved Rosie dog has gone and I find myself thinking more and more that soon it will be too late.
So, this blog is a last ditch attempt to get me to write – write anything – as a way to get myself back into the mindset I need to pick up my 60,000 words, beat them into shape, add another 40,000 and get published!
It's taken me so long to get this far that the Kindle, and Kindle publishing, have now appeared on the horizon and getting published is a rather different concept. But let's see what happens.
I will be including pieces of my existing work on my blog, many sections of which can stand alone as short stories, and also including new episodes. There will be lots of nonsense about chickens, cows, farmers, dogs, owls, buzzards and the humdrum stuff of everyday life.
If hope you'll like what I write – please let me know your thoughts – and, if you do like it, please tell other people about my blog and, eventually, my book!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Better late than never...

Well, here we are then. I can't put it off any longer. I've run out of displacement activities. No, that's not true, that's never likely to happen, just finalising the design on this blog page has been wonderfully long-winded. I started it over a year ago – and look at what I've come up with! Still don't know if I can post photos or categorise my posts, but I've spent ages fiddling with the font and the colours and the photos... but for now, this will have to do.
So what has brought me to this momentous event? What happened today to push me over the age and take this great leap into the unknown? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All the times I've been out walking the dogs, or in the bath, or in the middle of a meeting and thought: "Ha! I've got to put that in my blog!" and now I've got a blog going, there's nothing to report.
Don't give up on me just yet... I'm sure there's an idea coming along at any moment...