Sunday and Bev has volunteered to work a shift on her weekend off. Like we need the money? Because of that I get to wake early and walk the dog, then shepherd the Family off to work. Fair or what?
Looks like it's been frosty overnight. White hoar frost lingered in the shade of hedgerows and the lee of grass mounds. The sky is wedgewood blue streaked with high thin trails of Cirrus. A very pleasant morning indeed.
Cold but inviting.
I wondered about wearing overtrousers today. The fields are so wet that every fall of my feet sends mud and water up into the air, and inevitably onto my clothes. I'm not exactly a picture of sartorial elegance when I'm walking the dog. Big muddy boots, long woolly socks, jeans and a walking coat all liberally covered in mud. Wild hair, red nosed, red ears and a stick in hand. It's a wonder anyone speaks to me at all!
The first meeting of the morning is with two mares and a foal. I am frisked for mints and surrender a handful with equity. There's nothing Maternal about these mares when it comes to mints! A lot of shoving and kicking, but they each get two mints. The Keeper of these mares has unloaded a cart load of hay in the field. It's hay that has been stored all Autumn long. It smells SICKLY sweet. Fermenting is the word. Horses seem to love it. So does Jake. He rolls in ecstacy. One shower coming up you horrible MUTT!
We walk the Drovers lane, shotgun pellets dropping on our heads from shots fired far away. Pheasant are headed in our direction ... away from the guns that are hunting them. Jake is delighted. The pheasant are less scared of him than the noise and mayhem behind them. I park myself on a wooden fence and smoke my pipe while looking back up the hill to the Parish Church. The bells sound their invitation to Sunday Worship. Wish I'd bought my camera. I have a small pair of binoculars. Wish I'd bought a flask of coffee.
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Like we need the money? 
Big muddy boots, long woolly socks, jeans and a walking coat all liberally covered in mud. Wild hair, red nosed, red ears and a stick in hand. It's a wonder anyone speaks to me at all! 
A lot of shoving and kicking, but they each get two mints. The Keeper of these mares has unloaded a cart load of hay in the field. It's hay that has been stored all Autumn long. It smells SICKLY sweet. Fermenting is the word. Horses seem to love it. So does Jake. He rolls in ecstacy. One shower coming up you horrible MUTT! 
I have a small pair of binoculars. Wish I'd bought a flask of coffee. 
