Dharma Elephants

Last night Simon very subtlety drew my attention to the fact that I haven’t written anything for a while.  As in… “Do you know it’s A WHOLE MONTH since you posted anything on the blog, you slacker?” Clearly Mr Self-Satisfied considers that one photograph of some eclipse or other, and a passing reference to an obscure bit of poetry three weeks ago gets him off the blog-responsibility hook. Hah!

My bad though, cos clearly I am “the writer“, apparently with a talent for humorous and interesting scribemanship. Hmmm. Flattery will get him nothing but a cold stare – a silent reproach for his patronising but futile attempt to manipulate my on-line communication behaviour. And yet, doh! Here I am, bloody well writing stuff. For future reference though, the flattery was superfluous: the incitement of guilt was sufficient.

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A dwindled dawn

I have been on my own for over a week, as Val is spending grandmotherly time in Derby. In that time, I have spoken to two people who called at the house (a fireman from the local volunteer force who called to sell me their fundraising calendar, and the postwoman who delivered a package too big to fit in the mailbox). It’s been very calm, and the routine has been absorbing. I’ve not been at all bored, and I’ve managed to do some additional jobs with the digger that I had been meaning to get round to for ages.

Perhaps my bliss really consists of solitude?

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Cat Schism

Um. What to write about….? Maybe it’s time for a cat update. The total, as of this minute, is nine. (Maybe ten… but Brown Cat has gone walkabout, and we’ve not seen her for a few days.) What is slightly interesting (if you happen to be interested in this sort of thing) is the change in distribution between the possible cat-home locations. As well as Little Tom joining the ranks of what we loosely describe as ‘The House Cats’, Barn Mother Cat has also decided to grab herself a bit of the inside action.

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Beau Constructor

Well, the non-freeziness didn’t last long. Just to teach me to stop moaning about soggy weetabix days, the Universe decided to plonk a bit more of the very-pretty-but-bloody-cold stuff on our part of the world. In the deep early winter, frosty winds make me moan. The earth stands hard as iron, water like a stone, and the piggy poo is harder than both of them put together. Clearing the frozen poo from their frozen pen now requires the determination of a master sculptor with a big chisel. It’s tempting to just leave it be – but the thought of how vile it will be when the next big melt arrives is keeping me on my icey OCD toes. And speaking of toes, a word of advice for any of you out there tempted to kick down those oh-so-annoying tufty-looking molehills – DON’T. They may look tufty and crumbly and ripe for the kicking, but they ain’t. In this weather they are harder than iron and stone and pig poo put together, and you will be very very sorry.

But, on to more cheery things….

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Posted in Environment, Llamas, Pigs | 2 Comments

Frosties and Glee

Today it is not freezing. There is still a thin window of ice on the top each water bucket, but it is fragile enough for the llamas and pigs to deal with unaided, with a gentle prod from hoof or snout. The chickens have happily emerged from their house to go worm-chasing, and the llamas are spread far and wide nibbling soft green grass. It is warmer indeed, but it is not so pretty.

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‘s Nature Innit

One of the most different things about our current life is just how much we really are more ‘in touch with nature’. It sounds like a cliché…. “Well, we want to move to the countryside, and be… you know… more in touch with nature.” But it is glaringly and undeniably true. Of course, when we lived in the city, and spent our nine-to-fives within the fluorescent-lit sheltered confines of offices, and the hours outside of that in centrally heated houses, or air-conditioned cars, or climate-controlled retail establishments, we noticed nature when it got a bit extreme – like when there was a heatwave, or a gale, or even – on very rare occasions – heavy snow. But mostly the weather was just something we talked about in passing conversations with strangers in supermarket queues. And the impact of the changing seasons was only really noticeable in the size of our gas bill, and the days when we found ourselves getting up in the dark and returning home in the rush hour with our headlights on.

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