Posts Tagged ‘escape’

winter2012 038It all started very innocently, if dramatically, by a mass breakout of the ram lambs (but not my favourites : Curly, Curly’s Brother or Wills), from the Little Field, through the thick spiny hedge, on to the main road. Alerted and aided by our favourite Jewsons delivery man, and concerned passers by, we managed to herd the rest of the misfits back into the field with copious amounts of sheeep food. By awesome detective work (wool on barbed wire)  we located the hole that they had made in the hedge and set about effecting repairs. The small ram lambs kept sidling back to see if they could escape again once our backs were turned but were easily shooed away once we had thrown hammers and sickles at them! But there lurked a far greater danger in waiting. An evil brown monster bent on trouble. Like a perverted dirty old man he ambled along the hedge line supposedly minding his own business but obviously pitching for a fight. Being shooed away was not in his game plan as he took the initiative to mount a full scale full on attack. This involved running at us full pelt with horns and knee breaking boulder sized thick head at the ready to do serious damage. Thank fully , Paul is not only a master gardener but fully versed in the wily arts of matedor cape swirling. (all learnt from Strictly Come Dancing ) and was able to deflect the onslaught by dexterous Barbour jacket moves which unnerved the ovine tornado bearing down upon us. A couple of passes and he managed to catch hold of his lethal horns and manhandle him unceremoniously to the ground and sit on him. So far so good but sitting on him was like sitting on an unexploded bomb as the heaving mass of testosterone fuelled muscle quivered in rage. To avoid counter attacks from the young bucks I managed to get them all into the garden field and then grabbed hold of a horn each and  dragged the fuming mass of machismo in with them.

Shaken but not stirred we carried on to check the ewes.

winter2012 039But dark clouds were brewing and it was only a matter of minutes before the boys (led by evil personified , Othello), had broken out of the field again and were up at the house garden looking for trouble. In fact looking for a dear old unsuspecting pensioner, Pat, my mum. Ignoring mum and her enticing bucket of food the devil incarnate knocked her to the ground and set about beating her up. Being a tough old farmers wife , mum managed to grab his horns and drag herself up and away from the battering to alert us to his antics.

Another sackful of sheep food and all were enticed back into their stronghold again.Field now only to be entered with armed bodyguard, cape and pitchfork. But the harsh future is writ large as the date for execution draws nigh .

winter2012 035 It was only later when we discovered what had happenend during his sex fuelled rape and pillage ploy as the poor old sheep sculptures will testify. Horribly abused by hooves and wilful uncontrolled lust they lay scattered and abused on the ground.

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butter wouldnt melt in their mouths

well they were for at least three times today and then they were in the garden.. illegally.

Four Gloucester old spot crossed with Tamworth (therein is the problem possibly) piglets arrived today. Were ensconsed safely in their woodland pen and then voila we saw them casually meandering through the cutting garden bold as brass. Returned them to their pen with bucket of food. Peace. Later ,sudden movement caught our eye and they were back in the garden again having escaped from the wood again . Ambling casually past the polytunnel .They had escaped again. Twice more as dusk fell they managed to escape by sheer wriggling athleticism we found that they were not digging under the fence or vaulting over , but simply just squeezing through the stock fencing  like buttered houdinis. For what reason ? it is utterly mysterious and quite unknown what drives them to be so bloody minded. Needless to say we have become so paranoid at their escapeful antics by this time (ok Chris , stop saying I told you so !!) that it was time for true incarceration. Manhandling their piggy porkishness in our arms with their fifty million decibel squeeling ringing in our ears we stumbled through the gloaming and they are now shut in a fort knox (famous last words) chicken house with perimeter fencing. Tomorrow brings a new day of machinations and plottings.. Paul leaves for Scotland and the pigs have won round one…the question is ,will sucking pig be on the menu on his return ?

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escaped again

Escaped again !

wake up to glorious morning of sunshine , standing at the window looking out on to the newly planted and growing perennial meadow, and the sheep calmly grazing on it and wandering across the drive … WHAT ? what are those sheep doing there ? it is the boys of course ..(Curly, Curly’s Brother, Wills ,Satan and Zebra) (bizarrely Magnus the ram is too much of a wimp and is back in the paddock bellowing his head off in frustration) (another dent to his manhood the big old pussycat)  and they have escaped again… and wrecking our new border… howls of rage ensue from Paul who threatens fire and brimstone on their heads and rushes out in his pants to get them off the new plants(munched stumps by now).. hope b and b guests still safely tucked up in bed rather than be party to this spectacle ! probably not as Paul bellows like a madman with a colourful scottish lexography to match ! imagine guests at the window thinking why are we staying in this place with these two mad people !! and how soon can we escape !thankfully manage to usher them all (the sheep rather than the guests !)back to the paddock with huge bucket of food and not too much pantomime. This was after showdown in the woods (Miss Pig and Mr Zebra I presume )en route with the pigs ,where Zebra and the pigs take an immediate and mutual dislike of each other and I fear for a dramatic pig breakout to further complicate the situation. Throw bucket of carrots to the pigs as early breakfast  and we can stand down to defcon 2 situation. Living on a knife edge with animals seems to be par for the course . Remind myself ,as limp back from wood/bramble/mud/pig wrestling that I am living the dream !

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