Wednesday 10 March 2010

A Sunday off

The first day off in the past eleven - exciting stuff!! A lie in was the order of the day. Now a tap, tap, taptap, tapping noise was aggravating Shep from 7am onwards, of an origin that my brain could not work out. Eventually I succumbed and got my lazy backside out of bed. The better half informs me it is Jackdaws nesting on the side of the house, in amongst the tangle of electric and phone lines which come in to the premises. Seemingly it's been annoying him lately too. As I have been up and away from home before this 'late' hour of the morning I have been totally unaware of the tapping problem. I doubt the gun will be coming out of it's secure home in the gun cabinet.

I suppose I did manage to have a lie in of sorts and rose totally mentally alert having lain in bed for quite a while concentrating on the tapping noise and trying to work out what on earth it could be. Whether the dogs appreciated a lie in I don't rightly know, they came out of the kennel with a bounce, well, one of them did - the youngster (Moss), the older dog (Glen) is still off the stot, I can't quite work out what the problem is other than concluding it is age and cold weather. There is nothing specific you can point your finger at but I shall continue with the vets medication and see how he goes.

A leisurely bowl of porridge, one or two 'phone calls, some dishes to wash, washing to hang out then off to inoculate a handful of ewes for an elderly 'farmer' in the area. The same elderly person who was involved in an STA (sheep trampling accident) prior to Christmas. The ewes are in good fettle and seemed to enjoy trying to break my legs whilst treating them - they truly are a strange band, many brought up as pets and most with an attitude all of their own.

The job took quite a while due to my automatic syringe drawing air which resulted in having to use a single shot syringe. Also, half way through, the sheep which had already been treated, escaped. Oh Yes! They took off like the devil himself was behind them, straight onto the road and along past the village hall. I am indebted to the car driver (of origin unknown) who had the presence of mind to stop their car, turn on their hazards and also flag down the car behind them.

I will not set my dogs past sheep on the road unless I deem it safe and this car gave me the confidence to do this, might seem strange to anyone reading this but my dogs are worth more to me than the sheep are, if there is going to be an accident involving traffic I would sooner the sheep were the ones involved and not the dogs.

It was a grand morning and as I was having a day off therefore the delays were of no great hardship.

Except a rush did ensue as time flew (as it does when you're having fun) and before I knew it I had to rush away and gather some bags of silage and hay from a local farmer to enter into the fodder show which was being judged at the pub at 1pm.

The local Vicar alongside the Chairman of the Parish Council were the judges on the day. Seemingly the vicar walked in to pay some debts - I thought she was paying off her tab from behind the bar but seemingly not (still prefer that explanation though) - fresh from the local Church service, the poor old vicar was pounced upon and given the job, being a horsey person she actually had a sound knowledge of fodder anyhow and between the two of them a good job was done.

The fodder show was well supported with 13 local farmers entering produce which was either a bag of hay (or small bale) or a bag of silage/haylage, obviously this then meant Shep found herself in the pub in the afternoon, had a grand crack (conversation) with all and sundry and was about set to become part of the fittings when it was brought to my attention that it was Blood Donors day. Ah! Fortunately I had been drinking Coke and so took myself down to the local small town, to the school and got to have an afternoon lie down.

I seemed to have verbal diarrhoea whilst at Blood Donors (I blame the Coke!), I'm sure they were pleased to see the back of me!! Anyhow, my naturally inquisitive mind took to enquiring as to the what haves of the blood carry on. They say the average person has 8 pints of blood in them (I always thought it was 7 - learnt something there!), if you are below 7 stone 12 you can't donate (no fear on that one!), we don't give a pint - only three quarters, however the anti co agulant in the bag makes it up to a pint. The blood being collected goes into a bag which is rocked in a cradle to prevent it from clotting. Our blood that we've lost will soon be replaced however it will be diluted. The reason we have to wait 17 weeks before donating again is that the blood has to have time to regain it's quality, thicken up again I guess.

All this was followed by a cup of tea and fortunately there were still some bourbon creams left to dunk in the tea ( I love bourbon creams!), a bit more crack with one or two other donors, sheep crack I'm afraid, a farmers wife and myself discussing the impending lambing season, the bareness of the fields and all manner of important farming subjects! Returning home, managing not to stop at the pub, the dinner was put in the oven next to the fire to have it ready in time to watch Countryfile on the telly and see how the Tarset farmers faired with their five minutes of fame. They came over really well - strange seeing folks you know on the telly.