Who am I?
Who are you?
I am not asking deep philosophical questions here! But I can't help wondering a little about those who read my blog. And, I feel I need to be grounded in these pages, grounded in some history and in truth.
My aim is to tell you about my creative life but it I feel the need to do the telling in some context. I am no writer, bet you'd guessed that already, and storytelling is definitely not my forte so here are vignettes to fill in some blanks:-
Ramblin' Randall and I took a river trip on the Wye. This was before the invasion of the Hairy Herberts when life was peaceful. We camped on the river bank in a very primitive site with just a stand pipe for water and a portaloo for ablutions. We had a small corner all to ourselves and had campfires at night and slept with the tent flaps open drifting off to sleep under a starry sky. Bliss. Until......a group of young lads,travelling down river, set up a tepe next door.....hit the local pub hard....and the portaloo even harder..... Capiche! Still,I never take my porcelain amenities for granted now.
That's what we do for fun.
For a couple of years we lived in Somerset. On a small, small holding. And we raised 6 orphaned lambs. More starry nights observed as we got up every 2-4 hours in the early days with each lamb to feed them. These two cuties were ewes. Mardi on the left and Belle on the right. For reasons beyond our control we had to leave and come back to Hampshire and trust these two to the care of a farmer. Their fate is unknown. And it breaks my heart.
We rescued 22 battery hens some of whom were in sorry states. This one sports a kind of Vivian Westwood style wrap to cover her chilly chest. Made from an experimental piece of knitting that didn't quite work out as planned. All 22 adapted to life in the green and sometimes the mud with great gusto. My first experience of hen keeping and I fell in love. Great characters. One day I hope to have more.