[kevkev57]

I tried to think of some kind of structure to this ramble, and then remember a ramble is without structure. Just like one of those walking type rambles. Idea being you do not really know where you are going , where you will end up, and when you will be back. Now truth be told, for most of us that kind of walk is rare these days. Imagine saying to your loved one... " off out will be back whenever and have no idea where I am going "    Not going to happen is it ?  He /she will either think you are taking a rope to the woods as a companion, or are off out to see a lover.

So we have to confine ourselves to a electronic ramble, like here and now.

Today is going to be hot. I therefore decided to be a good small holder and start outside nice and early. I took my dear lady wife to the station as per the norm. Cut back across the forest road as per norm, in my trusty old Mercedes , as per norm more or less. In winter months its the trusty old Hilux as per winter norm.

Back to the ranch ( I actually dislike that word ' ranch ' and have no idea why I included it )  and at the hour of 6.57 , I started.  6.57 is good. The time of hour when you want to attract your neighbours ( if I had them ) and shout ,  " Hey , lazy or WHAT !! " and of course add , " its 6.57 , time to gett ouit and work "

It is a time to feel smug. Smug in the knowledge that you are tilling the land or watering , fixing, mending etc.  I was infact making or should I say patching together some chicken boxes for the chickens of course.  None laying now of course, but I like to think LONG TERM ( more smugness creeping in ) 

I have moved the chicken area closer to our house, and am using a little brick building as there abode. If you took one look at the cockerel, then you would probably call it their castle. He only needs a horse to go jousting.

I managed to recover recently, wooden wine boxes from the local " eco, recycling , oh so green , we have a wind turbine to power our coffee machine,  and the place is spotless , local drop off point "  AKA the dump.   I now have ten boxes......ok, ok, seven were mine already...that I bought...with wine in them..

The dump worries me a little. I have thoughts of having to clean my pick up before I go there, and of changing into clean clothes. They hose down the place nearly every day, using harvested water of course. I used to prefer the place years back. Then you could have a good rummage. Now I have to risk life and limb, trying to recover stuff from those high sided skips.

I looked around at my stash of wood. I set my eyes on a nice heavy piece, good and wide. I plonked down the ten boxes end to end and to my utter amazement, the wood was exactly the same length as the boxes end to end. Of course I had already set up my power saw and electric cable, which I no longer needed.

A few nails later and one bruised thumb later the job was done. All under the watchful eye of ' Sir cockerel and his many wifes '

So another job jobbed.

My little break is being used wisely, typing here , and a drink.  Mint tea was called for. I grow mint just outside of the terrace. It is morrocan mint. Main difference is the leaves are a lot bigger. A few sprigs + some sugar, and off I sip.

Yesterday I drove down the lane and into the next village. It is one of those pot holed lanes, over grown and just passable with a 4x4 and of course the postman in his Berlingo, don't know how he does it to be honest. Flat out I think.

As I entered the village I spotted a friend of mine. He of " I spend six months a year in Tunisia fame "    He was trying to super glue not one but both door mirrors back on to his Fiat van. A little thing with a funny name ,Dobloe or something.  He is a crap driver.  He has as many excuses about his bad driving as he does accidents. I lent on his front wing in a kind of teenage slouchy way. I heard a ' bing ' and my not inconsiderable weight had managed to dent his wing. He was vey gracious about it.  Apparently it was the only panel undamged, but no worries as an ' accident was probably due soon '

I changed the subject and said " where is your son, I have not seen him for a month or two "   Answer.   " He left four years ago "

Oh, was all I could muster.

Kevin
Belgian Ardennes

[Hilarysmum]

Brilliant