The happy farmer was dancing around the kitchen this morning, an amusing sight, as with rolled up newspaper in one hand, cursing away; he yet again failed in his attempts to swot a poor fly with the newspaper.
‘It’s got a charmed life that fly, do flies have nine lives?’
Myself, I am all for insect rights, and smiled wryly, as giving up, he opened all of the windows and the doors, in the hope that his little friends would decide to leave the comforts of a farmhouse kitchen for the delights of the stormy weather outside.
Gales and heavy squalls continue to lash our island home. It truly is a time for hibernating round a roaring fire at night. The happy farmer has been busy today running a single wire in the back field to accommodate eldest daughter’s horse, the biting cold weather, coupled with a greedy Clydesdale for company, has led to her horse losing a bit of weight. Several days of constant nagging from teenage daughter and the farmer was out dutifully thumping in posts to enable the horse to be moved to a more sheltered area, still rich with ungrazed grass. Eldest daughter will be thrilled to bits and so will Hansel the ‘happy’ horse!
A break in the weather allowed us to have our bonfire on Sunday evening. The children had spent the weekend gathering old palettes and bits of wood and together with the happy farmer had it all neatly assembled into a huge pyramid. Sunday evening and the bonfire was lit, fireworks were set off, and the youngest jumped up on the picnic benches outside the pottery and began her song and dance routine of ‘diamonds’ are a girls best friend’, as in the Sheila's wheels car insurance ad, for the gathered clan. Under the stars and the moonlight it was one of those special, magical moments.
The first course of brick work has been laid for the extension to the farmhouse, each brick neatly cemented in place by the happy farmer, today the cement base was poured, and tomorrow we will be able to do a ‘tap dance’ routine on it!
The tups are working away, although we have already had our first casualty, I told you the males were weak, Mr Texel had only been out for a couple of days before the happy farmer noticed he had developed a rasping cough, quickly he took him indoors to the luxury accommodation suite, a pen with straw, in the far corner of the shed. A jag in both legs to ward off pneumonia and a few nights of pampered treatment and that tup was ready to go get those girls once again!
Until next time....
Until next time....