Grandad March 15th, 2009
Head Rambles Manor is quite an old place.
It was built the best part of two hundred years ago, and was built in the traditional style. None of your concrete block or timber frame shit here – the house is constructed out of granite boulders.
The builders, or whatever they were, are gone now and the work is complete apart from a bit of decoration but I’ll tell you about that another day.
The place is just about back to normal, apart from some flood damage, a collapsed ceiling and the fact that we can’t use the jax or use electricity any more.
One aspect of the building has left me with a bit of a problem though. In the course of their shenanigans, they removed some of the original wall, and we now have these massive boulders lying around the place.
One of the boulders has caught my eye. It’s a huge rectangular slab of granite, which I think originally took the load from the roof, which explains why the slates are starting to slide down. It occurred to me that this slab would make a very attractive seat in the garden. I thought it would look nice with a boulder under each end to raise it, and with a bit of luck it could be mistaken for a Portal Dolmen which would mean we would be entitled to all sorts of grants from the National Museum.
My problem is how to shift it. The fucking thing must weigh nearly half a ton, and I don’t think Herself is up to carrying that kind of weight on her back. I am a very considerate husband and would never ask her to carry anything that a JCB might have trouble with.
I have to move it about a hundred yards. I thought of dragging it, but that would chew up what’s left of the lawn. I can’t roll it because it isn’t round. I can’t carry it. I’m stumped.
Were is Iron Age Man when you really need him?
Grandad February 15th, 2009
Every year for the last few years, The frogs have spawned in our lake on February the 14th.
Not the 13th.
Not the 15th.
The 14th.
Every year on the same night. I find it incredible that their timing is so accurate.
I was sad this year, because the weather has been so different. Instead of the usual cold, wet miserable February that we normally get, we had a fucking freezing wet miserable February. There was no way that those frogs were going to spawn.
I went for a stroll this morning around the estate, and happened by the lake.
There it was.
A seething mass of jelly covering a fair portion of the water.
Those little buggers had been shagging their brains out right on cue and the evidence of their frenzy was plain to be seen.
How do they know the date?
So there you have it. Love is not in the air on St Valentine’s Day.
It’s in the water.
Grandad February 11th, 2009
At last the snow is beginning to thaw.
I love snow, but you can have too much of a good thing.
The Manor at the height of the blizzard
I went out yesterday and did a survey of the estate to see if there was any damage. There was surprisingly little. Normally we lose a tree or two under the weight of snow but this year we just lost a few branches.
There was one place where there had been a bit of a avalanche. A couple of tons of snow had slid down onto the driveway, demolishing half a hedge in the process.
It was while I was poking around the detritus of the avalanche that I noticed a foot sticking out of the snow.
Needless to say, I went into a panic and frantically dug away the snow. My suspicions were confirmed – it was the postman.
I cleared away the rest of the snow, and found what I was looking for.
I had been expecting that mug. It is one of AJ’s and it’s lovely.
It’s a Twitter-mug that I won in a raffle held by McAWilliams.
It has my Twitter name on it and the icons of all my ‘followers’.
If you are really that jealous, you should head over and order one of your own!
As for the postman?
Unfortunately there isn’t another bin collection until next week.
Grandad December 14th, 2008
I have been busy on eBay again.
Last week, my orders arrived, so I spent the weekend unpacking the crates and constructing my purchases.
I believe in being prepared for Christmas. I like to give Head Rambles Manor a welcoming ambience for my visitors, so I have decorated the estate and the house.
One of my orders was a bit of a gimmick, I must admit. It’s not often you will find razor wire decorated with beautiful blue LED bulbs, but it’s worth the money. I have decorated the chimney with that.
My main purchase though was one I was a bit concerned about. It isn’t a very common item either, but good old eBay came up trumps once more.
I found a pre-Christmas Recession sale and bought six of them from Vladimir in Uzbekistan. Good old Vladimir. I’m going to leave him a very high score on the web site, as he was very efficient, and I will certainly be dealing with him again.
As I said, the crates arrived and the construction is complete.
They look fantastic.
I can’t wait to see Santa’s face when he arrives in the area and sees the lovely welcome I have prepared.
Grandad September 27th, 2008
According to Wikipedia…..
Guinea Pig
The Guinea pig (also commonly called the cavy after its scientific name) is a species of rodent belonging to the family Caviidae and the genus Cavia. Despite their common name, these animals are not pigs, nor do they come from Guinea. They are native to the Andes, and while now extinct in the wild, they are closely related to several species that are commonly found in the grassy plains and plateaus of the region.
WRONG
The Guinea pig (also commonly called the cavy after its scientific name) is a species of rodent belonging to the family Caviidae and the genus Cavia. Despite their common name, these animals are not pigs, nor do they come from Guinea. They are native to the Andes, and while now extinct in the wild, they are closely related to several species that are commonly found in the grassy plains and plateaus of the region. They are also to be found in the mountains of Ireland, in the area known as Head Rambles Manor.
I don’t know where the little bugger came from but he is living in my hedge.
So far, he hasn’t bothered me [or Sandy]. He has, however devoured two of the neighbour’s children and an oil-delivery man. It would also explain the mysterious disappearance of several cattle from the neighbourhood, and how a local vegetable farm lost its entire crop in one night.
I don’t mind him living there, though he never asked for permission first. I don’t like squatters on my land.
He has also taken to greeting me when I come in the gate which is cute in a funny sort of way.
I have called him McCain, because he runs and hides whenever there is trouble.
He’s a nasty little bollix.
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