https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?54212-Life-in-a-small-town The largest classic literature discussion forum on the Internet. Read Write Teach Share. en Thu, 04 Jun 2026 15:00:16 GMT vBulletin 10 https://www.online-literature.com/forums/images/misc/rss.jpg https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?54212-Life-in-a-small-town https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13442-Running-off-the-tractor Fri, 08 Aug 2014 17:03:18 GMT Running off the tractor.

Dad's tractor, a 1958 Massey Ferguson 65, was a monument to his optimism. He kept it
parked up the "Strips", a steep track above the farm. This was because it had no
working starter motor, or battery, or in fact any electrical systems at all.
It had to be "run off", and then kept running until the day's work was done.
"Whatever you do, Don't stall the tractor!" was the mantra we lived by
when spreading muck or making hay.
On cold winter mornings dad would have to hold flaming brands of diesel soaked paper sacks against its essential parts to warm it up abit before starting. He boasted he could start it in any weather with just two or at the most three corn sacks. When he thought it was ready, (by which time the accrued oily gunge on the side of the engine block would be well a light) dad would leap into the seat, put it in third, release the one remaining working brake, and peering through a
pall of smoke and flame, with his flat cap turned backwrds so it didn't blow off, go careering down the track.
Instinct told him when to release the clutch, the wheels would slurr and bite,
the engine would cough and chugg, clouds of dense white smoke would billow out from
both ends of the old bit of asbestos pipe that served as a chimney.
Then came The Decision, if he was confident it was going to start he would aim
to turn up hill at the junction at the bottom of the Strips, if not he must turn
down hill and try again, and he had little time to decide, because there was alot of
free play in the steering and a large time lag between vigourously cranking over the
steering wheel and even the smallest directional response from the tractor.
But it usually started.
All he had to do then was beat out the flames, rush to the well, fill up a
container with water, close the radiator tap, fill it up, and he was ready
for off.
He'd set out up the the road leaning hard over to the right to avoid breathing
in the exhaust fumes.
"Best tractor I've ever had" he'd often say.

His optimism kept that tractor going. Optimism was a strong force in my dad.
In his final years, when bits of him broke down, or wore out or stopped working,
he kept going, waking up each morning and relishing the prospect of another day,
whatever it might bring.
He was our hero. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13442-Running-off-the-tractor https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13131-Gwen Tue, 15 Oct 2013 07:50:16 GMT The new pup, Gwen, has arrived. The house is a tip and has a slightly unpleasent fragrance, we are tired due to the howling in the night. However,... The new pup, Gwen, has arrived. The house is a tip and has a slightly unpleasent fragrance, we are tired due to the howling in the night. However, I think it is important that she lives in the house for a week or two so she knows she belongs.

I can just about get the sheep jobs done with Meg but she'll only ever be a stop gap and then a yard dog - I just can't trust her - she sets off to round up some sheep and I can't be sure she'll come back -or stop when she needs to. She won't keep connected to me while working and her work has a kind of desperate single minded quality about it - she could be the only sheepdog I've ever known who hates her job.

Nelly has reached her peak of skilled sheep doggyness, but she can't sustain it for very long before those painful hips kick in and slow her down. The sheep are beginning to realize this and are planning some anarchy. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13131-Gwen https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13094-More-Meg Mon, 02 Sep 2013 12:10:30 GMT Things have settled down with Meg, Mainly because I have resigned myself to the long haul, abandoning all her previous training and starting afresh -... Things have settled down with Meg, Mainly because I have resigned myself to the long haul, abandoning all her previous training and starting afresh - as though she is new to sheep doggery. We're getting along fine and we are completing tasks together. I am working on the principle that REAL work is the best training, so I take her out on her own and we round some sheep up, it often goes a bit wrong, and usually takes longer than it should, but I don't bring Nelly along so we HAVE to manage, and in the end I find we do. Training a new sheepdog is as much about the dog training the handler as the handler training the dog I think.

Nelly's legs have got worse, although she is keen as ever, after a days work she can hardly walk and that has been the spur for me to persevere with Meg. I admit I was ready to send her back several times but I was out of options. Nelly has gone onto painkillers and will probably need them long term.

And now the latest. Just as I have decided to keep Meg, along comes the offer of a free well bred pup. I went to see the litter last night, and I don't think I can resist. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13094-More-Meg https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13041-Meg-again Fri, 12 Jul 2013 20:22:44 GMT Meg's training is now on phase three. Phase one was fairly disasterous, where I tried her with sheep straight away and she kept running off in ever increasing circles. Phase two was to take off all the pressure and have nothing to do with sheep for a bit, so that the "come to me" command now means come here and have a cuddle, and "lie down" means roll over and have your tummy scratched. This has worked as far as it goes, she has become alot more relaxed.

Phase three is born of that old adage ; "there's nowt trains a dog like work ." So as it's sheep shearing time where I need to gather sheep in smallish bunches (I'm no longer young so I like small bunches of sheep to shear) I've decided that will be Meg's job.

Straight away there was a Problem, she has been trained principally to bring sheep towards the handler. This is a very strong natural instinct anyway in sheep dogs (because the handler is the alpha dog,) and in the days before quad bikes it was very useful, the shepherd could stand at the gate while the dog went round and gathered the sheep. I need a dog that can work along side me and the quad, in other words a dog that can drive sheep as well as gather.

So anyway, I was driving sheep towards the farm and Meg was trying to gather them back towards me, but eventually we got some in, so it was a qualified sucess.

Then tonight I was returning some to the field, and Meg had gone round the wrong side again and I whistled her to "come here" and she came ! Is it a breakthrough? Time will tell. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13041-Meg-again https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13028-Meg-Disaster-and-back-again Sun, 30 Jun 2013 10:01:16 GMT My son has been in California for a week or two (working) so his body clock is all to pot. Yesterday he got up at 2 am and took the dogs for a walk... My son has been in California for a week or two (working) so his body clock is all to pot. Yesterday he got up at 2 am and took the dogs for a walk (he didn't know about Meg's behavior). Anyway, she ran off at the first sight of sheep and would not return to him, and eventually disappeared. This is fairly serious in sheep country, when it comes to loose dogs, farmers tend to shoot first and ask questions later .

When I got up I noticed there were alot of sheep in front of the house (Meg had spent a couple of hours bringing them in from out lying fields.) Eventially I spotted her, but she would not come to me, or lie down and started her manic wide circleing again, I ended up chasing her on the quad. Only when she was exhaused did she lie down.

So, first of all there are a couple of positives - she stayed on our land, and she brought sheep back to the house rather than randomly chaseing them. It shows she thinks she belongs here.

But I think we are back at square one in our relationship. :beatdeadhorse5: ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13028-Meg-Disaster-and-back-again https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13027-New-dog-update Fri, 28 Jun 2013 21:34:16 GMT Two steps forwards one step back (or is it the other way round?). That's always the way when training sheep dogs . It is especially true with Meg.

I saw her working about a year ago and she was very impressive, that is why I took her on rather than getting a new pup. We've been practising "get back!" "Lie down!" and "Come here!" (with whistles) in the big shed- trying to make it a game with lots of praise and petting. It's going well, but it's frustrating because this is the very basic stuff any dog can do and I know she can do much, much more. The problems start when I try the same thing with sheep, then she goes into her set moves, zig-zag herding and running back with a kind of manic desperation and NOT listening. Anyway, I think we've got to the stage where she wants to please me (I AM the alpha dog!) so thats good.

The effect of all this training on Nelly has been magnificent . She watches us and occasionally (when she thinks Meg is getting too much attention) she joins in to get a bit of praise. This morning I took her to move 500 sheep and lambs up onto the moor and she was great, well behaved, disciplined, full of initative and presence. It was great. We both really enjoyed it. She's upped her game, she won't be retiring just yet I think. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13027-New-dog-update https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13009-The-New-Dog Thu, 13 Jun 2013 08:51:10 GMT Training the new dog. Nelly the sheepdog is now 11 and has a swollen joint on her back leg – she is starting to slow down. This is a good thing... Training the new dog.


Nelly the sheepdog is now 11 and has a swollen joint on her back leg – she is starting to slow down. This is a good thing in many ways because a steady dog often does its job better than an excitable one – and Nelly has been very excitable over the years (let's be kind and call it enthusiasm). Now at last I can gather sheep with her in a nice controlled manner instead of a mad rush –just like One Man and his Dog on the telly.

It's reminded me though that she can't go on forever, retirement is looming, and so a possible replacement has arrived.

Meg is a fully trained 3 year old, that has gone wrong – she has been under used and has spent too long shut up in a barn. Who can say what goes on in a dogs head, but the problems she has manifest themselves by her running unstoppably and very wide round and round the sheep, ignoring all commands as she goes. I mean VERY wide, sometimes not even in the same field. The farmer I got her off agreed that I should try her for a month or two and see if I can mek' owt ov 'er.

I've never trained a sheepdog that wasn't a pup before, so I'm not confident I'll be keeping Meg, but I'm hoping that the relaxed regime I run here will allow her to overcome her demons.

So far all I've done is take her for walks and try to get her to relax – and to get her to “Lie down” when told to – a command she must know, but seems to panic her – she thinks it is an admonishment for wrong doing at the moment. However there is some progress, she seems to be bonding with me, and is starting to listen.

UPDATE

I tried her with some sheep last night. She runs around them in fine style and comes on to them well, but as soon as I give any command after that, she turns and runs off and starts her wide circling.

I think the problem may lie with her previous superior training.

She has been professionally trained by a good trainer and has been taught the “Look Back”move where the dog must leave the sheep she has gathered and go off to find some more. This is the last and most difficult thing a dog learns, it is about the only thing a sheepdog has to do that is contrary to her natural urges – her instinct is to remain fixed on the sheep she has in front of her. It is also contrary to everything she will have been trained to do previously.

I never bother with it, if Nelly misses any sheep I call her back and set her out again, but sheepdog men set great store by this skill.

I imagine as a young dog she would've practised and practised the Look Back move over and over and it has become a default setting when she has sheep in front of her. She isn't listening to the next command but assuming it is going to be “Look Back” and so that is what she hears.

It's a theory anyway. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?13009-The-New-Dog https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12486-Meeting-Mrs-P-part-Three Sat, 14 Jul 2012 14:05:20 GMT I admit it, I have relapsed into nostalgia. I know how it came to pass. I was fully aware of the dangers and had been trying to avoid situations... I admit it, I have relapsed into nostalgia. I know how it came to pass. I was fully aware of the dangers and had been trying to avoid situations that might start me off again. Then last night I was talking to a 15 year old girl and she was so bright and funny, full of life and naïve self-confidence, I started remembering what it was like when I walked among such creatures. Anyway now I'm infected, and I might as well lie back and enjoy it's bitter sweet pleasures. So rose- tinted glasses on, and here are some more self- indulgent ramblings about a past that probably never happened quite the way I remember it anyway.

Here are some songs that take me back to the time I was courting Mrs P.

Somethin' Else.The Sex Pistols.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHhrgCNA3co

There was a party/dance/disco every week and this one was often playing when we met up in the very early days. I was an agricultural student - a horny handed son of the soil, we didn't really do punk. But we used to throw ourselves around to it in an ironic way. (Ironical pogoing?)

Breakfast in America. Supertramp.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xUuy...feature=fvwrel
Lying in her room singing the opening lines over each other at the top of our voices. (She would change the words to “boyfriend”) A simple pleasure but our own – we would laugh so hard it hurt. Having a permanent, serious girl /boyfriend was sort of new and we were enjoying it. It was all part of my rehabilitation from knob-headedness. I was beginning to learn that, like The Beatles song, if you play it cool, you make the world a little bit colder. You're also a pillock!

Livin' Thing. ELO. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiYdFbH4nNw
This was her favourite, I liked it too and didn't complain as long I got to play my Thin Lizzie- Live and Dangerous, as an antidote.

I Just Cant Help Believin'. Elvis. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyKtRoGiNIM
Like Maverick and Moose in Top Gun, me and my mate Jim, had a routine around this song featuring his famous – what Elvis would sound like if he could - impression, and my falsetto backing vocals. After about 6 pints it's brilliance emerged.

“Oh I just can't help believin'.”
“Shing your shong.”
“Oh I just can't help believin'.”
“One more time.”
“Oh I just can't help believin'.”
“One more.
“Oh I just can't keep singin' like this”
“And again”
“Oh I really want to stop now”
“Keep goin'”
“Oh why are you making me do this.”
“Cos I'm Elvis.”
“Oh my God there go my tonsils”
...and so on...
In those days I put on a front of outrageous confidence. It was such an effort and needed a lot of beer. Thank goodness that's all past.

There were many other songs, Elton John, Queen, Bee Gees, Lionel Richie. But they are timeless classics rather than time specific. Nostalgia doesn't work like that. A lesser played song, Robert Palmer's Every kind of People, sends me right back to a particular night in a particular cottage where I can still smell the wood fire and taste the wine. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tEH_...eature=related ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12486-Meeting-Mrs-P-part-Three https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12449-Meeting-Mrs-P-part-2 Fri, 22 Jun 2012 18:29:25 GMT She doesn't remember how long she waited behind the door, or why she opened it when she did, but when she stepped out of her room she saw a youth facing her with a Hornsea Pottery mug in his hand, his mouth was hanging open. He was wearing jeans and a wollen jumper that was sagging out of shape due to the 2 gallons of water it had absorbed, he had blue eyes and dark hair that still managed to curl though wet, a puddle was forming beneath him.

Her mother had told her, her smile was her best feature, so she smiled. He smiled back. She saw his eyes flick over her, checking her out in the usual way, she was glad she'd changed into something nice. The youth approached her and held the mug over her head, she didn't know what to do, If she'd been a different person she could've screamed in a girlie ( though attractive) way and pushed past him to join the others, but she didn't know how to. She stood there and cringed a little. She felt a few drops fall onto her head, then he turned and galloped back up the corridor.

And that was it. That was how I met my future wife. I couldn't tip the water on her because I was cowed by her reserve. I had made the error that everyone made (she later told me) mistakeing her chronic shyness for coolness.

I continued my pursuit of Kate, until she realised I was essentially a knob-head, and then I pursued someone else. A couple of weeks later I had a dance with Mrs P. I put my hand on the small of her back, just where her blouse had ridden up. Our flesh met and merged in a way I knew I would never tire of, I honestly could not tell where I ended and she began, it was amazing and unexpected. So I kissed her, and that was good too. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12449-Meeting-Mrs-P-part-2 https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12448-Meeting-Mrs-P Thu, 21 Jun 2012 16:59:43 GMT We are all victims and beneficiaries of fate. Life is a tapestry of if onlys and thank goodnesses, a maze of crossroads and possibilities stretching... We are all victims and beneficiaries of fate. Life is a tapestry of if onlys and thank goodnesses, a maze of crossroads and possibilities stretching and widening away back from the point we occupy now. When I look over the chances and co-incidences that have brought me to where I am, the best and most shining example of happy fate was meeting and pursuing unto marriage the young girl who became Mrs P. Everything good in my life now, seems to stem from that.

I was part of a 2 man raiding party on the Girls dormitory block at Agricultural College. The year was 1979, we were away from home and were drunk on cheap beer and freedom. We had gained the first landing in the face of fierce resistance from Kate, Rachel, the two Janes and Peggy, who were throwing jugs of cold water down the stair well. (Where are they now?) A door opened at the end of the passage and she stepped out of her room.

So often do I think of that moment, that I no longer trust my own memory of it. Perhaps truth has been tided up by a desire for narrative, emphasizing some parts and disregarding others, it has caused time to stop and stilled the shrieks and screams that must have been going on all around. I remember staring at her as I stare at her now in my mind's eye. Her slim figure is framed by the narrow corridor, she stands under a light, her hair is shining like a golden halo. She has on a long skirt and polo neck sweater, old-fashioned but good quality. She is pristine and perfect, she is smiling. That's the tableau I remember. I like to think that I also saw the need in her, she was new, she wanted to join in, to be part of the gang, she wanted me to throw that cup of water over her.

That water was intended for Kate. Up until that moment all my attention and lust had been focused on her. The raid was part of an ongoing flirtation we were carrying on. I may have had all the romantic nous and emotional sensitivity of a Walrus, but earlier that evening she,d tipped a packet of peanuts into my beer – so I knew I was in with a chance. The water was meant for her.

So there I was at what turned out to be the crossroad moment in my life. Did I pause to choose who to bestow my liquid favour upon – the vibrant earthly Kate or this ethereal cool beauty in front of me? When I looked into her eyes did I see the promise of a life together, the years stretching away into the future, did I see weddings, kids, Grand kids, shopping trips to Ikea?

She looked at me. I looked at her... ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12448-Meeting-Mrs-P https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12424-Jubilee Sun, 03 Jun 2012 07:48:19 GMT A short poem to celebrate the occasion of Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions... A short poem to celebrate the occasion of Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas Queen, Defender of the Faith's Diamond Jubilee.

That Liz,
Is the Biz,
She is. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12424-Jubilee https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12401-Lambing-again Thu, 17 May 2012 17:10:35 GMT Nothing has happened to me lately to inspire a blog, but lambing time has been and gone so I thought I'd jot down a few things about that.

Young Stephen, a nephew, came up to help this year. He was such a sharp little lad when he was 12, but teenagerhood has hit him hard. A shrug and a grunt is now his only means of communication (apart from constantly texting persons unknown.) He manages to combine both the Aristotelean Laws of motion, in that his body remains in motion only while being pushed, and those of Newton, in that his body tends to stay at rest unless acted upon by another body (me.) Anyway after a few days a Dentist's appointment took him from us – for a week – so I had time to recover from his help.

On the sheep front things have gone extraordinarily well. I've managed to prevent all but one ewe from dying and lost only 12 lambs. The main reason for this is firstly the fine weather - more of that later - and because I got the shearlings (first timers) inside where I could keep a close watch on them. This meant 90% of the problems were under my eye day and night and I didn't have to spend so much time chasing expectant mothers over hill and dale in order to deliver them.

The good weather (apart from a couple of days) was a stroke of luck and entirely down to Daisy May our pony. Last October she was scratching her backside on a gate and opened it, releasing the tups into the ewes. By the time I realised what had happened all six tups had been working for a day and a half and lambing time was three weeks early.

Then one night it snowed. It was forcasted as sleet falling on the hills, what we got was a full on blizzard. I went out at midnight into a strong northerly wind that was thick with snow. It was beginning to drift under the walls and over the sheep that were sheltering there. This isn't always a bad thing, the snow itself provides them shelter. Visibility was very poor, but I knew roughly where the sheep would be and knew they would be bunched together so I didn't need to cover a lot of ground. The biggest problem was that I couldn't distinguish snow drifts from background snow, and kept getting the quad stuck. Anyway right at the top of the fields was a bunch of twenty or so sheep, and two sheep sized mounds of snow that had separated themselves from the others – a sign they were lambing. For once catching them was no problem (they never saw me coming) their fleeces rattled with ice as I loaded them into the trailer. Once I'd warmed my hands up enough to open the gate, I got them back to the shed and lambed them.

Next morning it was colder and the wind was stronger. The snow was mixed with tiny icy pellets that stung and froze at the same time. I had to abandon Mrs Prendrelemick at the first big drift. (That sounds bad, but we were only 10 yards from the back door.) I pressed on, I always think if there's a possibility I might be able to do something I should try. This time it was hopeless, I just couldn't see anything, I couldn't face into the wind at all. I retreated back into the kitchen.

There were about 150 week-old lambs out in the storm, but I wasn't that worried, as long as they're with their mothers and can get at the milk they can survive the odd blizzard. It was the newborns that would have no chance. As it happened only two lambs died, one abandoned in the middle of a field and one on its own under a drift. Luckily, and unusually for sheep, nothing decided to lamb that morning. By Nine O Clock the snow stopped and this being Britain the sun was out an hour later and the lambs were skipping up and down the hills again. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12401-Lambing-again https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12093-Old-Age Thu, 01 Dec 2011 21:30:38 GMT I am 53 this year and can now see old age approaching like an unwelcome guest, a distant figure still, but coming over the horizon inexorably heading... I am 53 this year and can now see old age approaching like an unwelcome guest, a distant figure still, but coming over the horizon inexorably heading my way. Soon it will move in and impose itself, demanding consideration, everything will be deferred to it, stopping me from doing the things I want, stopping me wanting to do them.

There are several constants a man can use to measure the passage of time - the age of policemen or the age of doctors and teachers (no, they don’t get younger, that's you getting older). I particularly remember when underwear models began to be younger than me, that was quite a shock I can tell you. These external temporal measures are important, because although time goes flying by faster and faster, inside you feel the same. Then suddenly you're a 12 year old boy in a grown man's body.

The physical symptoms of ageing are certainly starting to show up. I need glasses to drive, my body aches at the end of the day, and my joints feel stiff in the morning. My hair – what's left of it - is mostly grey, and I feel like having a lie down after lunch. This is all fair enough and to be expected, but what has really shaken me is not the physical symptoms but the mental. That 12 year old inside me is growing up at last. I am becoming confident that I know best, I feel I am always right even when I'm wrong – something I couldn't bear in the elders of my youth. It is a trait that grows along with nasal hair but without a handy grooming gizmo to prune it back. I am fighting against it, but I know I am destined to become a curmudgeonly old git. ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12093-Old-Age https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?11741-Classic! Mon, 20 Jun 2011 06:26:24 GMT "you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."

And so it begins! That's one of the best things about having a nearly 3 year old granddaughter, rediscovering classics like The Tale Of Peter Rabbit. Seeing her engrossed and fascinated, feeling the thrill once more through her eyes. Has there ever been a more scary literary villian than Mr McGregor? ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?11741-Classic! https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?11723-Networking Sun, 12 Jun 2011 08:02:56 GMT Networking. The search for a new bull has been intense and depressing. I had to sell my own bull -Blondel - because I had kept some of his... Networking.


The search for a new bull has been intense and depressing. I had to sell my own bull -Blondel - because I had kept some of his daughters and they are now of breeding age. My neighbour was going to share with me at a bull this spring – neither of us has many cows so it seemed sensible, we could pool resources, get a quality sire and run our herds together.

The trouble is cattle prices are at an all time high, (unlike when I sold Blondel) and bulls are going for thousands at the moment. My nieghbour decided to sell his herd and reap the benefits of these unpresedented prices. He probably did the right thing.

That left me with no bull and a severley cut budget.

Here are some calculations

To buy: £2000 Keep for 6 years @ £300/year, sell for £1000 . annual cost of £466.

To hire £500 - £600 for a season.

Both ways have advantages and disadvantages, the sums have been going round and round in my head for a month. I've been stalking markets and farm sales and making enquiries, travelling miles and miles into Cheshire and Derbyshire, nothing had turned up that was any good or affordable.

Then yesterday a man we were fencing for, mentioned his neighbour (Ian) had bought a couple of bulls last spring, I got his number and went to see him. I had never met Ian but I knew of him and where he lived, I knew his history and his family, just as he knew mine. “How's Jim doin?'” he asked (my Father) “Alreet.” I said, "but 'is legs've gone. How's Bernard?” “Oh not s' bad..." We caught up and put the world to rights, we exchanged news of mutual friends we drove up onto the moor to look at his cows and sheep and he showed me his new dog. We were establishing who we were in secret rituals older than Masonic handshakes. After a while he showed me three bulls, they were nice, they had good bloodlines , they had been hidden away on a small Pennine hill farm 10 minutes from my place.

“Tek that un for six weeks, an you'll be doin me a favour” he nodded towards a pedigree Limousin. “Then ah shall want im back, an you can take that un.” he pointed at an equally good bull. I hesitantly brought up the thorny issue of the hire fee. “Buy us a drink if you want” he said “but you'll be doing me a favour anyway, I'm overrun wi' bulls.” ]]> prendrelemick https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?11723-Networking