Tag Archives: hunt

Uninvited guests – welcome and unwelcome

I've had some grief from Grannymar in the past about gratuitous swimsuitery - but surely this must count as editorially justified. And gorgeous. (Phoarr.)

It’s summer. It’s sunny. So the bad news is that it’s time to dredge up your swimming cossies.

Eek! I know.

I’m sure Well Done Fillet is not the only one battling with left over winter padding. But never fear, the Good Greatsby has a wonderful list of ways to overcome any embarrassment or shyness you may feel. There’s bound to be an answer that suits you.

But the good news is that it’s time for another guest post from Pam, who lives down the street from me in our village.

You may remember her first guest post about the rabbit lady, the evacuees, the rat catcher and how it was When no one locked their doors on my street.

Well, Pam’s back with a summery account of uninvited guests and how to treat them way back when- featuring foxes, hikers, horses and hunters. So, over to Pam, with more tales of a southern English village:

Although it was before my time, I was told by a neighbour, Mr Ben Batting who lived at No.37, that originally, before the road was built, the oak tree at No.17 used to be on the corner of three fields. When there was a fox killed by the hunt, it used to be nailed to this tree. Before World War Two fox hunting around the woods and fields was a common sight.

One day a Continue reading

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Filed under friends, history, In the village

Back to work

This being back in full time work lark is a bit intrusive. Early starts, crowded commutes, missing the school drop off and pick up, drinking curtailed, less time to write breathless prose like this.

But it’s structure – which is important, so I’m told. And they’ll pay me. Sometime soon. And if it ever feels a little like this…

At least it’ll never anywhere near as bad as this…

First, I wrap my arm in a skin for protection

Then I crawl in the pit.

Let’s light the place up a bit.

There she is

Those are her eggs.

I let her take my protected arm, sort of like noodling for fish.

Then my buddy pulls me out with snake attached.

Ain’t she a beaut?

Whoa,  that’s a biggie.

(Thanks to Colt Monday and yougottobekidding, from where I nicked these – though goodness knows the original source.)

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Filed under life