Making kebabs is a bum wiggling, shoulder wriggling affair. Threading marinaded lamb onto dangerously spiky wooden skewers alternated with yellow courgette chunks, squares of red pepper and just-dug-from-the- garden onion pieces in anticipation of guests, calls for some Nightboat to Cairo et al on the hi fi, turned up loud to accompany the dervish whirlings and matador swoops in the kitchen. Holiday mood pervades and the hoovering gets done, a surprise cake is delivered and another is given. It's raining and another field of cut hay is perishing, but it's not, after all, the end of the world.The dogs are poked outside to give the house and them an airing. Deeper than usual barks means someone different is approaching, but after an extended delay following the squeaking of the top gate hinges, it is, after all, the postman. But he is in a bit of a flap and the dogs have picked up on it.
He has seen the newly posted notice about the listed building consent for the barns and his heart stopped. When he has caught his breath and the dogs are quiet, he reveals that he thought for a terrible déjà vu moment that foot and mouth had returned to the farm.
Madness plays on.
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9 comments:
I think everyone in the countryside has experience that feeling once or twice in the last few weeks mopsa. terrifying
Madness indeed.
I keep looking at the lambs in the grey mare's field (there are some gorgeous Jacobs sheep in there at the moment) and I think: "No way can this happen again."
Hang on in there Mopsa.
BTW, I want some yellow courgettes!
Love the idea of airing a dog.
Arthur - bizarrely, there is comfort in knowing that the whole farming community is feeling the same way. My heart goes out to the stoic farmers near Pirbright who have lost their stock.
M+M - yellow courgettes are the bees knees. Very easy to grow and delightfully thin skinned which makes them even more of a pleasure to eat. Also, being so sunny coloured it is unlikely that you'll let one get away from you and turn into a ghastly marrow.
M'ear - my dogs need several airings a day, particularly when folks are visiting and the dog guffyness becomes more obvious!
Reading your blog makes me homesick for Devon, especially as I live in Birmingham. Think it's my "soul place" if you know what I mean.
Going to do a bit of bum wiggling of my own and make kebabs for supper, only this time I hope to avoid sticking the damn thing through my hand!
My God Mopsa, if you are that athletic in the kitchen, what are you like on the dancefloor?
Swearing mum - those skewers are a liability, even when the meat is tender. Careful now!
Drunk mum - I am a bit of an energetic mover on the dance floor, not that I get onto one often enough for my liking. Hence the domestic displays.
Nice to see somebody else blogging from the sticks.
Can't say I'm at the sharp end of agriculture, but after moving out here, I'm full of admiration for those who are - especially the folks I see working half the night rescuing as much as they can of the harvest.
Nice blog.
Welcome All Shook Up - there are loads of folks blogging brilliantly from the rural loveliness around GB.
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