It was a real flurry to get the chores done, this morning;
as I had to hurry off to our weekly Welsh lesson. En route I was pleased to note that the extensive flooding in local rivers appears to have subsided, welcome relief although there’s still the threat of much more rain to come.
After an interesting & informative lesson, I drove into our local town to pick up the first of Tony’s birthday presents – a lovely Welsh leather passport cover (ideal gift for a pilot, methinks), dropping into the vet to discuss goat Woodie’s problem – thick, persistent discharge from her vulva, despite repeated treatment (& after she aborted a mummified kid last year; a truly horrific experience). Appartently the prognosis isn’t good; as we may have no option but to cause her to abort & at this stage of her pregnancy I really would like to try & keep things going. The interim alternative is to give her a 6ml intramuscular injection of Heptavac, which may give her kids the rather odd problem of discoloured teeth but I’d rather take that minor risk, than lose mum or kid(s).
Next I made the excursion to Carmarthen to pick up Tony’s special birthday ‘caterpillar’ cake plus some more pressies – socks (well he’s a bloke), a CD he likes, & a pair of super-expensive Muck Boot wellies (ideal gift for a farmer, methinks!).
Whilst winding my way along the rain-soaked lanes came the alarming news that a Boeing 777 had crash-landed at Heathrow: amazingly, thankfully, all 136 passengers & crew survived with the aircraft managing to just skim the top of the airfield perimiter fence – & the adjacent busy dual carriageway.
Tony meanwhile, still down route in Beirut, was not to be put off by the Lebanese political situation, taking an excursion to beautiful, ancient Byblos with three colleagues. Whilst initially I was concerned at his decision to leave the hotel, I suppose that leaving the city could be construed as a safer option than staying closer to the heart of yesterday’s problems.
On returning home I was delighted to find the latest (March) edition of ‘Smallholder’ magazine had arrived – a surprising two weeks’ early – in which my latest article is published. It includes a lovely photo of Tony, bottle-feeding one of the goat kids; but yet again they did not publish the submitted photo of me; I think I’m starting to get a complex…!
But there was sad, bad news when I came to put the farm to bed. I’d returned at dusk; & found the hens had already made their way into the upper storey of their Ark. On opening it up I discovered to my dismay that unfortunately one – Millie – had gone missing; yet there was no sign of her anywhere, nor of what might have happened to her despite my extensive, frantic search of buildings, fields & gardens. My neighbour has suggested she’ll probably appear again in a month’s time, a trail of chicks behind her….sadly, I don’t share his optimism but rather suspect the work of an opportunist buzzard. She always was a bit adventurous in her wanderings, mind you…..the original Lone (Free) Ranger!