However, today's gorgeous sunshiney weather - albeit still with a nip in the air - inspired me to unleash the Nikon (which has been mostly dormant for a while). That, in turn, led me to inspecting the contents of its memory card, which brought home a few intended blogs which went by the wayside.
I have therefore decided to present my loyal band of readers (well, the present Mrs C anyway) with a pictorial precis of what might have been ....
1. The Saga of the Clio Headlight Bulb. Just don't get me started. First rule of Car Club? You never buy a Renault. Second rule of Car Club? YOU NEVER BUY A RENAULT. You get the message ....
2. The Saga of the Broken Tractor Steering Arm. Necessity was the mother of invention for a while, and Heath Robinson my best friend, as the tractor is vital for carting about our big bale haylage, but it got fixed in the end (see shiny new part above), thanks mainly to a useful chat with John the Farrier and the intervention of a large sledgehammer and a bottle jack.
3. A flying (well, standing) visit to our recently-established wildlife pond by a heron. The photo was taken from about 75 metres on max zoom through the (closed) kitchen window, past a BT pole. I tried to sneak out of the door on the opposite side of the house to creep round and get a clearer shot. Got silently within sight, looked down to see where I was putting my feet, looked up - and the bird had flown. What? How? Hasn't been back since. Probably discovered there are no fish there. Yet.
4. Spring chickens - well, two of them are, anyway. These are one half of our residentially-divided 'flock' of eight and were the initial inspiration for today's photographic foray, as I was moving their house and run in the afternoon sunshine. The other two were rehomed to us via Freecycle, so we have little idea how old they might really be. My guess is fairly but what the heck. We have a 'home for life' policy - eggs or no eggs. The two on the left are actually mum-in-law's - the smaller, darker one was rehomed to her from friends after a fox got its coop-mates and the other one is the last of her four Bluebells. They are awaiting the refurbishment of their accommodation and some new feathered friends later in the year. Our two are called Whizzer and Chips (after the comic, remember?) and are some kind of legbar cross, reputed to lay blue eggs. When the weather's nice enough. Hmmmm .... I'll believe it when I see it girls.
5. Do you think they know I've got biscuits in my back pocket? They paused just long enough to snap my fingers off before resuming their mad, mismatched wrestling bout. You'd think Big Bad Mido would be more than capable of squishing diminutive Scamp beneath a Big Black Paw but oh no. Our little ragamuffin has obviously taken to heart the fact that when he went to the vet this week for his booster etc, he had to have a 'large dog' dose of anti flea/mite/anything-else-nasty spot-on. All 11.8 kilos of him (Mido tips the scales at a rather more butch 30). Obviously small dog syndrome.
6. And finally .... these little perishers' days are numbered. Small, cute and velvety they may be but they are quite rapidly taking over our hay fields with their invasive hillocks. So they've got to go. Aside from reducing the available grazing, any earth which gets in the late summer haylage crop during baling has an extremely adverse effect on the quality of the bale - which is only discovered in the pitch black of a winter's night, during a raging blizzard, after it's in position in the barn and unwrapped. It can't go on. Sorry moles, I'm on your case.
What will do with the moles? I had an email from this guy David Merrifield ; about a new form of mole trap. He wondered if I might blog about it but I have rather mixed feelings so haven't got round to doing it. At the moment I am trying to ignore ours! not sure how long that will last!
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid they will be dispatched. No point passing the problem on to somewhere else. On the plus side, I haven't got hold of any traps yet, so the small furries are still making merry on (or rather in) the hay fields. Maybe next year ....
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