Here be Dragons

Tremendous excitement this evening at BC. We had just gone to the big field to collect the horses to come for their tea when we could hear a strange roaring noise from across the fields. Looking up there approached a huge, roaring, fire breathing dragon. The horses went ape. Sid had them galloping up and down the field whilst Rooster was in his element, he was doing his best "Don't panic Captain Mainwaring !" impression.

                                                          "Growl Roar Snarl"

The only one who was not bothered was the youngest, Rocky, he realised that it was tea time and strolled off to the stables for his tea, (He makes his debut in the dressage arena tomorrow) He will be doing the Walking in a straight line without falling over test.

                                           It's ok it can't see us hiding behind this tree,


Thankfully it died and we were able to bring them safely in, and we didn't even say "Get orf moi laaand" to the worried looking balloonist and his passengers.

                                                  Die Dragon Die.

Darcy Dawg and I were sitting watching the racing the other day when he said to me "Why don't you tell me any jokes ?"
I said "Well I'm not sure that you'd understand them "
"Typical anti- hound prejudice, it make me sick " he scoffed
"OK OK, I'll tell you one"
"Good, I'm sitting comfortably" he said.
"Knock Knock"
"There's someone at the door, there's someone at the door"
Sigh
                                     

Talking bullocks

Rocky has settled down well and has his hooves well and truly under the table now, he has taken on the role of ambassador to the estate. This he pursues with a rather too much fervour. Some bullocks have been put into the field at the bottom of the hill and were getting used to their new surroundings when the grey gamesmaker arrived. He soon had his head over the fence and was nodding his head in an animated fashion at the hapless bovines.

                     "We're all dead dead mad here yeah"

They were looking at each other as if they were lost in a strange place and asked for directions but had mistakenly quizzed the village idiot, he was playing them this to make them feel overawed .http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM0fiegRbTg

Now you all know DJ, she is a smallish dog as this picture shows.

                                                     Dog, to scale.

                                          Barn door, to scale.

Why, therefore can the small dog not get through this apparently large opening without bumping into the side of the entrance ? It's hardly as if she is travelling so quick that she cannot make the corner, every time there is a dull thud as she collides with the left hand side. Why ?

On Friday H and I went to see the left wing comedian Marcus Brigstocke at the assembly rooms in Ludlow, his ire was aimed at the government and what he felt they were doing wrong. He was very scathing and rather cruel (ho ho).Whoever had booked him to play Ludlow must have hated him. Surely someone should have told him that the sitting MP has been dead for 15 years but still won the last three elections. H and I rolled about laughing....alone. Ooops. People had come all the way from Leominster to be offended

Tailed off on the farm

Countryfile is a very popular programme at Barns Cottage. We especially like watching Adam on his farm spending the licence payers' money on a new rare pig before dashing off to gas some badgers. Sharkey is one of his biggest fans and unbeknown to us she has started  her own farm.

"I demand a subsidy"

Just down the green towards the road is a fenced off part in which a few trees have been planted or so we thought. This evening whilst out with Darcy and DJ surveying the view across the rolling acres to the Fungi decontamination Barn at Haytons Bent (yes that is a real name) and enjoying the fumes from the Stoat Abattoir at Hopton Cangeford we spied our feline chum sitting on a post by this enclosure. She was wearing a pair of gaiters, chewing a piece of straw and complaining about the weather. She could only have become one thing...a Farmer. True enough she was surveying her field of genetically modified mice. She has been conducting experiments and now has huge megamice which she is fattening up for market. DJ was so surprised that she almost forgot where she had hidden the tripe sticks that she had purloined from Housemate's secret stash.

Up and coming trainer has been busy training his charges for the new season and today he entered Darcy Dawg for the 4 o clock at Pontefract. We risked a few Bonios each way but sadly he was tailed off in the last furlong. (He's on the far right)

                                         And he had got rid of jockey.

Back to the magic pin for the next bet.

Does anyone have the foggiest idea what's going on in Mr Bates green jail in Downton ? Nope me neither. The new footman has started the gay or not gay debate here. If he is gay he may be sent to prison (it was illegal in the 1920s) and maybe he could share a cell with Mr Bates and let us know the score.

Earthlings, your time has come.

The incessant rain hasn't stopped H from carrying on her rehabilitation of Rooster as he fights to regain his old ,high level of fitness so that he can resume his (almost) international standard endurance career. It has to be said that at the moment he is not fighting too hard.

 He was frightened by a parked car a couple of days ago and got his pants in a right bunch. (It was causing a parking hazard and emergancy vehicles may not have been able to gain access to the stables apparently.) So he has to have a companion to go with him

                                                   "Wot ? Me ?"

So I dragged the protesting Kavi out of his comfortable barn to partake of the morning air. As usual leaving the yard he did his impression of a French aristocrat being dragged to the scaffold during a particularly busy morning in the midst of the Revolution.

Eventually we all got going and he even stopped sighing after half an hour, (Yes he does sigh). Rooster was well behaved too and we were on the last leg coming back down the Stoke St Milborough Rd which runs alongside the gallops when the telltale thunder of hooves on the other side of the hedge warned of the approach of some of Henry's Hopefuls excersizing.

 Kavi leapt into the air suddenly galvanised by the memory of being a racehorse,it was as much as I could do to stop him jumping the hedge and joining in. He leapt and kicked shaking his head fit to bust and it took a good five minutes before he calmed down, and ten before my trousers dried. Memory is such a wonderful thing, just wait until I see a football match, I'll be on the pitch showing them what to do.

The changing season is a great excuse to renew your wardrobe and DJ has taken to modelling a new coat;

Opinion here at BC is divided, I think she has a touch of the look of Audrey Hepburn in her Breakfast at Tiffanys period, H thinks that she looks like a mangy dog in a football manager's coat and Housemate thinks that she looks like Ming the Merciless.

What do you think ?

A dichotomy

Furrgall and Sharkey are employed for one job and that is to keep the yard, barn and feed room clear of mice and other assorted vermin. Very good they are at it too, especially Sharkey.

                                           Meaning business

Just last week Iwas walking up the field having given Kavi his late afternoon polo mint when I spied the dark destroyer staring intently into the hedge. A second later she pounced and came out with a mouse gripped in her jaws, the mouse was still alive and struggling and squeaking. Without thinking I picked Sharkey up and wrestled with her to free the hapless rodent, this I eventually did and it ran off back into the bushes.

Sharkey looked at me "Why do you have a cat ? " she said "To keep down vermin" I replied, having a bad feeling about how this conversation was going. "And what do you think I was doing ?"

It is the age old argument about closing your mind to realities, would I enjoy bacon butties half so much if I had had to kill the pig? When we put elderly relatives in care homes are we happy to close our mind to any unpleasant possibilities ?

Almost existential angst on a sunny afternoon in a field in the beautiful countryside of rural Shropshire.

Anyway enough of that ,back to Downton Abbey . Well, what an exciting episode this week. The abbey is saved when Lord Grantham out pompouses Matthew about his payout from mis sold PPI, at least I think that was how he got the money

. Plain Edith suffered the fate of all plain people in period dramas when she was left at the alter by the old cripple (who only looked about 5 years older than her). But most worrying is that Mrs Hughes has been given the all clear by Dr Clarkson, a man who has yet to get a diagnosis right. If I were her I wouldn't be starting any long books.

Darcy likes long books and is already onto the second book in the Game of Thrones series. Here he is explaining part of the plot to me.

                                          "No, Joffrey is Cersi and Jamie's son, stupid"

Not the thigh,

Last week H sent me to town on an important errand. I took the Armeister with me for protection, it was really hard to find somewhere to park but eventually we abandoned the motor and headed down the alley and into the town centre. Here we were greeted by a large crowd of people who were waving flags at me. I thought that was very nice of them until I discovered that the elderly chap with his hands behind his back and the odour of tweed, silverware, privilege and faithful hound was Prince Charles. Always nice to see a member of the royal family with all their clothes on.

                                      "Mmmm Royalty, my favourite flavour"
The mixture of Royalty and Downton Abbey has gone to Carly's head. Now when people come to visit his stable he has all the other horses and dogs lined up in height order to greet visitors

                                    "How marvellous to see you, my man will take your polos "

I may have been a little blase about Ari's people gnawing activities, thinking that his actions would have no repercussions. I was rudely reminded that this was not the case when I visited the NLND last week. She graciously invited me into her house and opened the door to the lounge when her doggie Miss Molly leapt out of the room and bit me on the leg. Sadly I reacted like a subscriber to Bunty magazine demanding first aid and an operation while she was wisely saying to Gershwin that what goes around....

Provocatively self indulgent

For reasons best known to racehorse trainers, tidiness on the yard is of paramount importance. Upandcoming trainer is no exception to this and at the end of her shift the scary stable lass leaves everything ship shape and Bitterly fashion (it's a local saying) for the up and coming to come and feed the horses at about six o clock. He always looks perplexed when faced with this;

Scary stable lass also has no idea how this happens, and neither does Dave (the horse nearest the camera). Dave is apparently so stupid that with him DNA stands for Does Not Achieve. However rather like Bill and Ben of old (ask your parents) we know what goes on don't we children ?

Our old romperhound DJ loves drinking out of buckets (No I don't know why either) and despite having ample water in her run she likes nothing more than romping around the yard and testing every bucket to see if it holds drinkies.

Despite her weight loss when she leans on the buckets to check their contents they tip up leaving the yard looking like some sort of bucket Kristallnacht. You should hear scary stable lasse's language. What larks !

It appears to be de rigeur in blogs to do some sort of 50 Shades of Grey pastiche, so here is ours.

                                        Only 46 left (it has to be said that Sid is not a convincing grey though)