I quite simply like being a bit grubby, a little tired, hair resembling Bet Lynch on a bad wig day, and possibly with a few nettle stings on my hands. A day ending like the above is one of perfect pleasure. I would have had long embroiled discussions with the goats on why seeing of my dog really is anti-social, an argument (out loud of course) with a stroppy Shetland on who was going through the gate first and a happy chit-chat with the hens.
And this following piece is not for the faint hearted and I apologies if anyone is in the slightest bit offended but the subject is close to my heart and such an integral part of our lives it cannot go un written.
It’s about the afore-mentioned flatulence. Well actually it is about poo and flatulence….my whole life seems to revolve around various types of it. The only animals that seem not to be involved in this are the cats. They are such clean and clever animals it is never a problem. Alfie even wee’s down the bath plughole….now how clever is that?
There is sheep poo, goat’s poo (tiny hard little pellets), horse poo (large steaming mass that the dogs like to eat), hen poo (not too bad at all) and duck poo (large green runny stuff). To finish it off there is all the dogs poo and, for the record, Matilda (age 4) can tell the difference between each of the dog’s poos and can correctly identify them. I am not sure this is a useful life skill but it’s certainly as interesting one.
Then comes the farting. This tends to be just the dogs and if not the dogs then they still get the blame .And there is something else that has become a bit of a personal grievance. Why did no one tell me that as ‘one’ gets older then involuntary farting becomes a possible daily embarrassment? It is now got to the point that when I am lifting the (heavy) back of the horse-box up I pre warn everyone in the vicinity that involuntary farting could take place and they have been warned. This has resulted in quite a few people (men) offering to shut the lorry ramp for me – it wasn’t what I was after but it’s a rather useful side effect.
When one was younger it was the type of farts that only a woman can produce that caused any distress and these would only take place in a silent Martial Arts class (where I was the only female apart from the ‘Master’) after doing a prolonged shoulder stand…..fortunately I never put myself in that position these days but the memory is fresh and still can make me cringe and shudder. These days I am much less concerned about bodily functions one way or the other….I can only surmise that this is a very fortunate thing?
City to Countryside – Things I Am Learning
All men flinch at the sight of any female driving a horsebox. It’s not personal. Wearing a fake moustache and black glasses only makes them stare longer.
Standing under an apple tree in autumn means you are going to get whacked on the head by a falling apple. Usually when you are about to share some witty, unusually intelligent remark with someone you would like to impress.
There is no such thing as ‘parking’…stopping approximately near a pavement or verge will do.
Sheep are very clever and can open any gate at any given time. Sheep can also unlock gates for other animals if coerced.
Horses will always escape when you are wearing the oddest combination of clothes EVER. Never unlock the top bolt of a horse’s stable door and then bend down to open the lower one. This leads to a horse thinking you have left and he/she can come out of the door at speed thus knocking you on the head in a very painful way.
Spaniels love water, especially the dirtiest stinky water with a bit of fox poo on the side. There is nothing to be done about this apart from always being on full alert armed with a hose, a towel and a resigned facial expression.
Every country car comes without an indicator. Anyone actually indicating a choice of direction is clearly a townie and should be treated accordingly.
Broody and Mother hens have a whole new Martial Art attack form lying in wait for curious by-standers/small children/husbands. An up to date Tetanus is a good idea for anyone involved in hen keeping.
Never attempt midnight maneuvers without a torch. Rabbit holes and water troughs always lie in wait.
Stables make good places to lock naughty children in. They can’t reach the bottom bolt.
Cherries are best eaten still sat in the tree.
Shetlands will always gate crash a picnic.
If you have inadvertently just run over a trio of baby ducklings, don’t look in the rear view mirror. It only intensifies the guilt.
Lost drivers will always stop and ask directions when you are emptying the horsebox’s septic toilet tank.
Even though my children are considered part feral, have the dirtiest feet and are often seen wandering round part naked carrying a bemused duck. I would not change their upbringing for the world.
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