Is your goose getting fat ?

The C word, yes it is less than a month until the happy day. I even bought a C Robin decoration today too. I have also been receiving the Christmas lists from the inhabitants of Lowerdown. Rooster's requests are quite simple; his own traffic cone .
http://www.puresafety.co.uk/roadhog-traffic-cones.html
A Hi-viz vest would  be nice too and help to complete the ensemble.

Carly , when asked, informed me that he wished his rota of servants to be trebled at least, two are not nearly enough to keep up with his, meagre, demands. There have been times in the middle of the night , he informed me,when he has needed his rug adjusting but there was no one on call to do it and he was forced to wait until the morning . As for whether he wishes to be in the stable or out in the field, well he is allowed to change his mind as often as he likes, can't he ?

                                           I'm not sure if I have enough wrapping paper for all of these.

Rocky is very excited about the new X-box with added hoof controls, he has heard about the new must-have game Grand Theft Pinto and would prefer to play that then roister-doister with the boring field mates.

Kavi is not a great fan of Christmas, although he did make the effort a couple of years ago.

                                                       "Ho Ho flaming Ho"

When pushed he plumped for a never empty haynet, so that his nomming activities would suffer no interruption. I told him that he still had one present choice left and asked what would he like. "Another of those nets" was his answer. Sigh.

Wabb asked for world peace, some Lentil kit-e-kat and the latest Hawkwind album "Cat on the Edge of Time". CF was still in bed and will doubtless let me know his choice when he surfaces

I had a surprise request from Ari, apparently as former Housemate would not countenance it at his home,  and I  too fear that 5 minutes alone with George Osbourne would not be a good idea.(she is happy that George does not know of her existence).

"Alright, just three minutes then "

 

 

A couple of years ago I mentioned local "characters" who frequent country pubs, well now that we live closer to the ocean we have visited a couple of hostelries in seaside resorts. Here the yokel's seafaring cousin the salty old sea dog lurks. He generally has a pig-tail which emerges apologetically from his bald head, a fisherman's smock liberally coated with fish scales and his last half dozen meals and a laugh that is 20% chuckle and 80 % phlegm. He has a flat in Hampstead, an agent called Wodney and is quite as dull as the Mummerzet version

 



No, not that sort of Sea Dog,

 

Green Eyed God

Social media is the medium of today, some of you will have accessed these wonderful words via facebook and some will have stumbled upon this from twitter @kavismate . It is always nice to meet people who are followers of the antics here in Devon (and Shropshire beforehand). Although it can be a little worrying that there are some who know more about the lads than the author.

I have tweeted a few pictures and some of my twittermates have taken an interest in Kavi. One, a talented young lady who is studying art, asked if she could paint a portrait of him. In the interests of copyright I asked Kavi if he minded. "Can you eat a portrait ?" was his only question. On receiving an answer in the negative he sighed and said "Whatever". He duly stopped eating for about 2.3 secs while his photo was taken and sent over the ether for her to work off.

                                "Come on, hurry up, there is a half eaten haynet that needs seeing to"

The proof of the masterpiece was duly sent back recently and very good it was too. I was telling Kavi of his fame when Carly overheard the conversation. He was mortified. "Why does anyone want a picture of that sad-faced old munter ? " He screeched. "I am the lovely one, every one says so, check the profile, check the breeding. It screams Showing Horse. It should have been me me me" Awkward

Rocky also appears to be thriving on the Devonian fodder and appears to have grown  in the last 6 weeks and is now probably taller than Kavi, who is 15.3hh. We have tried to stand them upsides so that we can compare but Kavi gets very irritated when Rocky stands near him as he is always being mithered and nibbled and attempts to exact revenge by biting a chunk out of him

                                                          "I'm a big lad me"

Rocky No mates

Rocky is a friendly chap, always full of bounce and bobbance and always ready to have a roister-doister. Unfortunately for him his mates are not really the playful types.

"C'mon Carly, lets play with this, it'll be fun"

 

 

Carly, like an ageing Uncle, will indulge him for ten minutes or so but will get bored and wander off to do something in which he is the centre of attention. Rooster might patrtake in a few low jinks providing the play area is safe and the appropriate safety gear is worn which rather takes the fun out of it. Kavi, of course, doesn't stop eating for long enough to waste his breath in saying "**&%! off" .

 

Imagine, however, Rocky's joy when some horses moved into the field next door. He was convinced that there would be lots of new chums who would be eager to become his playmates. Sadly for the Grey Gallumpher the neighbours, after an initial look,  only seemed interested in eating all the grass in their new field. He  now spends a lot of time staring wistfully over the fence. Wabb went over to see him and offer some alternate amusement. Sadly "Consider the beech tree man, become as one with it and allow your chakras to merge" was not the fun hour Rocky had in mind.

 

Downton went out with a whimper yesterday. Satisfied that another series had been landed most of the characters were able to coast through yet another "village event" which always happens in the  series finale. All 56 of Lady Mary's suitors turned up but to no avail, she remained Lady Mary  so they all left disappointed. Come on guys, she's dull but after all she is very rich.. Lady Edith was  letting it be put out that she was off to Europe to have a child out of wedlock ,this after her gentleman friend had "disappeared in Germany". (He's dumped you love) . We all suspect that you are going to see if you can get that charisma by-pass reversed.

                                                      "Oooh my poor Chalfonts"

 

 Mr Bate's haemorrhoids appear to still be giving him some gyp judging by the expression on his face , his teeth couldn't be more gritted if he was a Motorway in a frost. We can't wait for the Christmas special .

 

 







The Loneliness of the long distance scooper wielder

 

 

Say Hello to Wabb, she arrived at Lowerdown a few weeks ago as a guest of CF's. Although she was a little shy at first now that she has her paws under the table she has blossomed into a chum.

One of the boring but necessary jobs that horse owners have to do is pooh-picking, this is where you troll around the field with a wheelbarrow and a scooper moving the equine deposits, and having four horses with healthy digestive systems tends to leave plenty of work to do. Now as I am at the bottom of the pecking order it falls to me to do the hard yards. It is a bit boring going up and down the field but Wabb has decided to do the rounds with me. It's a big improvement to quarter the fields with my feline friend discussing life in general. She is quite the zen philosopher and advocates plenty of motionless sitting and contemplating life. In turn I point out the wildlife to her, we have seen; wrens, robins, pied wagtails, stonechats (well we've heard them) and long tailed tits. Unlike certain moggys of yore she doesn't find the need to slaughter them as it goes against her Buddhist faith. I was looking forward to going out with her today to discuss some knotty point of lore but she said "You can sod off it's p**ing down"

I have also discovered that CF is a teenager, this becomes obvious at weekends when he turns up for his breakfast at about 10.30 obviously having had a lie in after a night out with the lads. Having wolfed down his portion of Kanga-chunks he then finds himself a comfortable hay bale, preferably in the sun, and settles down for a snooze.

Some good news on PPP (Perpetually Poorly Poppy) the Stable Cottage cert for Cheltenham 2015 as she has deigned to return to training with the Worried Looking Trainer. He assures us that if she gets some good ground after the turn of the year she will repay our patience. He also pointed out that the horse that just beat her on her debut was runner up in a very good hurdle race yesterday. (Chris pea Green his name as you ask )

                                                   PPP and WLT dreaming of races to be won

Most weeks I like to poke a little fun at Downton but even I have had to give up as it is now beyond parody.

That skill, it never leaves you

Who would have thought that the Devon air could be so rejuvenating ? Kavi was never keen to go out usually having to be dragged from the stable and encouraged to go for even the gentlest of  hacks. However now that he is Devonian Horse he could not be keener. He strides down the road with his ears pricked and a spring in his step. we went up onto the moor this week and he couldn't have loved it more, he was hopping from hoof to hoof and was all for disappearing at a rate of knots towards Somerset.

With it being a touch windy today all the horses were a bit flighty and when let out into the field they all went charging around tails in the air bucking and kicking. Normally Kavi has nothing to do with this sort of silly Arab behaviour and soon gets his head down to do some serious nomming. Worryingly they hooned down the field towards the bottom paddock before slamming the brakes on, at least Rocky (I didn't know that you could jump fences) and Rooster (I have had a good look at this jumping malarkey and it looks dangerous to me, where is the warning tape and the cone ?) did. Kavi, however, sailed over the post and rail fence into the virgin paddock in fine style.

                                     "I don't need a little Irishman on my back to make me jump"

On landing he looked rather surprised to be alone, clearly his "Follow me lads" rallying call had fallen on deaf ears. This was a bit worrying for him and he trotted up and down the fence while the others strolled off, perfectly calm now. He was starting to get a bit anxious as I headed towards him with a headcollar to repatriate him with his mates. Then he saw what was beneath his hooves, about half an acre of fresh grass, and he perked up no end. I thought that I was going to have to deploy a crane to get his head up so that we could return to the correct side of the fence.

More excitement on Downton last week as Tom threatened to take his Irish Elm disease to America, shock, gasp, yawn. Maybe he was hoping to be more poplar there, he could get a plane over the ocean I suppose.

                                                         Ready for a coat of varnish

I would imagine that if he spruce-ed himself up he could branch out into business by taking a leaf out of Lady Mary's book, although she might twig what was happening. We'd pine for him though.

I'm on all week, try the veal.

Doctor Carlystone I presume

The move down south has certainly had a rejuvenating effect on some of the horses; Kavi seems to like the air and strides out purposefully in front of most hacks with his ears pricked as opposed to dragging his hooves around Shropshire. Carly, who has a very low boredom threshold, is also enjoying this new chance to explore. he is a very inquisitive soul. This urge to boldly go etc means that he is very forward going when hacking out, now normally this is a good thing, but not if you have differing ideas about which way to go.

                                        "What's that over there ? Can we go and have a look ?"

He believes that he should be given free rein (see what I did there ?) to go where he wishes. There are two reasons for this; firstly because he is so handsome, lovely and friendly, everyone must be overjoyed to meet him and become his chum, and secondly that he is still searching for the fabled Polo making factory where he can be gifted his body weight in minty treats.

The road leading to and from his domain is clearly the home of Devon's affluent and most of the architect designed des-reses have long driveways. He feels he should be able to stride up them to the house, where he would introduce himself by tucking into the buffet left for him, hanging baskets to you and I, have a good poke around the lawn and flower beds before leaving a fragrant "gift" for the lucky householders next to the garage.

Not so long ago whilst still in North Wales he was strolling down a quiet track just off a road minding someone else's business when he spied a car which appeared to be rocking from side to side without the engine running. Despite H's efforts to restrain him he strode up to the vehicle to investigate, unfortunately the windows were steamed up so he never discovered what was happening. Curious that.

Clearly stung by the accusation that it is pointless Sunday night froth the writers of Downton have got out their book of political correctness and are doggedly making their way through it. First off Racism got it's marching orders, Lady Rose, the ward of the family, you know,  the blonde one who is looking for love but is crushed by fusty old social mores (or the posh slapper) was embarrassed by her chinless wonder of a boyfriend at a "nayt" club before being rescued from social catastrophe by a , gasp, black man. Clearly this was not to be tolerated and Tom the wooden Irishman was sent to rescue her from a fate worse than being seen with one of "those" people. I doubt if we've heard the last of this. Tom might branch out into protecting her, if he twigs what is happening, unless he is barking up the wrong tree...Ok ok I'll stop.

 Lady Mary was the victim of sexism next as Lord Grantham patted her on the head over the running of the estate. She has enough on her plate apparently, though how she stays so slim... oh I see. Anyway she reacted with outrage as you can see

                                                 "I've never been more furious"
                                                               or
                                                        "I've just won the lottery"
                                                              or
                                                  "Did I leave the cooker on ? "

Wooden it be nice

You would think, wouldn't you, that a two acre field of virgin grass would be enough to entertain and cater for four grown horses ? Having acted as a type of equine Agent Orange on one half the field it was decided that Nom-happy quartet could go to the new section of the field to graze yesterday.

Now this section of the land abuts to the architect designed des res  of the Lady Who Owns the House in the Field, she possesses  a couple of jolly labs who love to run around barking, especially when they saw our lads for the first time The LWHOHIF came out to investigate the commotion  and was greeted by the sight of her hounds going ballistic whilst Rooster and Kavi were outstaring them and biting large chunks out of her fence. Noooooo

                                          Carly demonstrates, fence chewing techniques.

Many apologies were proffered by us and promises that no repetition would occur  were given to her. She was, however, forced to call in the fencers to make some repairs. On our return later, having gone home for a reviving cup of tea ( a beer, it was a beer) the guys were unpacking their tools and  preparing to put things right but there was a hold up as the men were being badly hampered.  Rocky was the main culprit here, he had taken a particular liking to the boss's mobile phone and while he was trying to order some new fenceposts he had the Grey gallumpher tugging at his sleeve wanting to have a turn to ring his mates, and update his facebook profile probably.

It is, quite rightly, said that virtue is it's own reward and when CF the cat adopted us we were happy to look after him and he has become a welcome member of the Lowerdown clan. But as they also say, there is always one who has to spoil things by overstepping the mark. CF has become one of those types,we arrived at the stables last night to see that he has brought his mate for food and biscuits. he appeared to think that as he had offered us a dismembered rat the day before he could bring his mates along for board and lodging

                                                   "How do, where's the biccies ?"

Downton decided to go all dark and serious last week but not before our favourite medic the Deadly Doctor had performed another miracle cure.

                                              "Dr Finlay eat ye're hearrrt oot"

Mrs Patmore, the comedy cook suffered a heart attack whilst preparing a soufflé, no one seemed very bothered but amazingly quickly he was summoned and was soon on the case dispensing homespun philosophy .His cash busting cardiac cure was a bit of a sit down and a listen to a Puccini aria, she was soon restored to full health and will hopefully be bustling about her root veg for many a year.