Bonked by a Bullock

Today I thought I would regale you with an amusing tale from a long long time ago. I spent most of my years of growing up at an all girls boarding school. When I did come home for the holidays, I would disappear up to a local farm, where, in exchange for extremely hard work, I was allowed to ride some rather lovely horses. My favourite horse was Goose. She was part thorough bred and part Irish Draught with fine feathers around the fetlocks. She was a grey mare (white for the uninitiated) maybe the original Grey Goose - or perhaps not.

The lady that I worked for was a tough taskmaster and my duties were not confined to the stables, and the farm had an eclectic assortment of other animals. There were a few cows, some geese, ducks and arising from the cows at one time a shed with some young bullocks in it. The bullocks were always a little lively and in their shed they had two areas, one for sleeping which was on deep litter (layered straw that was allowed to accumulate) making the low roof rather low if you were tall, as I am, when you were trying to tie in a fresh hay net filled with the sweet smell of summer. The other area was much larger and allowed the bullocks to move about freely and before anyone gets upset, the bullocks were only kept in during the coldest spells of weather. I used to wash down and sweep the bare floored area first. 'then I would go into their 'bedroom' clearing out the most prolific amounts of poop, before scattering some lovely fresh straw. Then I would refresh the water, and the last job was tying in a freshly filled hay net.

On this particular day, I was just finishing and performing my final task with the bullocks, tying in the hay net. Due to the floor level, I had to stoop slightly and all of a sudden I felt this crushing weight! Slightly stunned I then noticed a hoof over each shoulder. Half a ton of young bullock was doing his best to shag me! Although this is extremely funny, I was actually in quite a dangerous position. I knew if I went down I was in danger of being trampled by a sexually aroused bullock. Fortunately, I was able to heft him off and escape. 

I was pretty shaken but even I exploded with laughter as I was checked over and hoof shaped bruises were found on my shoulders! I wonder - is there anyone else out there with a similar tale? Somehow I doubt it.

Falklands Veteran - My Friend Bill

Yesterday I bumped into my friend Bill. We often cross paths in our favourite coffee haunt sharing a love of decent coffee and talking endlessly about food - a lovely topic for conversation with much to both agree and disagree about. Bill won't mind me describing him as a giant of a man, I am sure, as he stands at about 6'10" which is, I'm sure you will agree, pretty tall. Bill is an ex-service man and yesterday showed me some pictures of him proudly standing guard outside Buckingham Palace wearing a Bearskin. Apparently he was a little over 8 foot tall with the bearskin on! He served mainly with the Scots Guards.

I noticed that he was not quite himself yesterday and being a pretty direct sort of person I ventured,

"Whats up Bill? You seem a little sad today" He replied that it was a bad time of the year for him. I  realised it must be an anniversary of some kind and asked if it was someone special that he was remembering. He hesitated and I apologised and said how tactless I must seem, perhaps we should talk about food again. He replied that no, it was alright, he felt comfortable talking to me. 

He started to talk in a soft Scottish burr, he is a giant but the phrase 'Gentle Giant' could easily have been tailor made for Bill, "Tomorrow (today) is the anniversary of the Sir Galahad and the Sir Tristram being fired upon in Bluff Cove during the Falklands conflict."

His eyes are down and he is making no movement apart from the constant rubbing of his fingers with his thumbs. I feel the need to fill the silence; "Were you on one of the ships?"

"No - I was about 300 metres away and watched in impotent horror"

"That must have been very traumatic for you" I venture.

"You can't imagine it - The noise, then the silence as you are deafened by the noise, the chaos, the smoke, then the noise comes back, the screaming, the horrific screaming of dying men wanting their mothers. Bodies, bits of bodies, the sea on fire, the smell of fuel. the smell of fuel burning, the smell of bodies burning...."

I need to bring him back to the hear and now I realise as his eyes are watery and his hands are shaking.

"Bill. Bill? Its ok" He looks up at me and the shutters to the pain slowly roll back down. He smiles at me and says, "You probably think I'm stupid" he looks down again.

"No Bill, I think you are an incredibly brave man." I put my hand on his for a moment and give him a smile, and for a brief second we both have a view into each others soul. Then we laugh it off and normality is resumed. 

Conversation about food is soon resumed and all is good, but something has has changed. We all need a mask to wear, to hide behind, to keep the demons at bay. Never judge the book by the cover they say and in Bill's case that saying has never been truer. I hope that he doesn't find today to painful alone with his memories, or indeed anyone else who may have been at Bluff Cove on that dreadful day on June 8th 1982. 

Our conversation was far more in depth and covered much more ground than I have written here, but I feel that it would be an invasion of privacy to write any more. We need to look after our servicemen. They risk everything for us, sometimes at the whim of stupid politicians as in more recent times (my opinion). Bill survived the Falklands and no less than five tours of Northern Ireland. I'd say that was something he should be allowed to be proud of.

Issues

I've started this new blog and then not posted for ages, not an auspicious start I must confess. Must try harder you may think, or flaky not worth bothering with, unfollow, another lonely nutter. I have been having a few technical issues lately which I am glad to say, I can stop ignoring and confess that I now know that I am not alone! It would appear that Apple have some sort of compatibility issues when connecting to people's home routers. Up until very recently I believed that it was only me and that clearly I was doing something technically incompetent to have this on/off internet connection. I went as far as changing my router in the mistaken belief that this dastardly box of much magic must be the cause of all my suffering with 'now you see me now you don't' internet. I installed it correctly and went around the house changing all network devices to this new magical box of tricks.

Of course the Sony computer and the two dells completely and impeccably behaved themselves with a faster and trouble free connection. All Apple gadgets on the other hand behaved like sulky children dragging their petulant feet and cranking into network life on an occasional whim. After searching the internet (using the Sony computer) I found forums discussing this and it would appear that I am not alone in this problem. Obviously Apple want to optimise the updates that they supply to the latest bits of kit but how about your loyal customers who own slightly older gadgets like iPhones that are not the 5 and iPads that are not the latest generation? Hmm? Come on Apple, pull your core out and fix this before we collectively throw our appliances against the walls and swap them for android ones instead.

I now know that I am not a total technophobe but I also know that I am pissed off! 

Alderney

Have you ever been to Alderney? Where? Alderney - it's one of the Channel Islands, smaller than Jersey or Guernsey, but quite beautiful in its lack of commercialisation and tranquility. In fact if you choose to holiday there and are unfortunate with the weather, there really is very little to do except drink. Alcohol remains duty free and plentiful. It is a small island measuring approximately 3 miles X 1 mile in total area. I am not sure of the actual mileage of roads covering the island, but I do know that there is a more relaxed approach to vehicle maintenance with string being a common accessory to many vehicles and many cars and trucks being held together with little more than string, rust and bungee straps.

Getting to Alderney itself is rather an exciting adventure. There are very few direct flights with most flights coming via Guernsey. To fly in from the UK you generally have to fly from Gatwick to Guernsey and then board a little tiny Tri-lander airplane and finish the journey to Alderney. How many of you I wonder have flown in a Tri-lander aircraft? It's very cosy, just two seats wide and when I say 'seats' what I actually mean is seats as in bench (think bus) seats. You can always spot a Tri-lander virgin at the airport and it never fails to amuse me to suggest they ask for a window seat. I think you may still be able to fly direct to Alderney from Southampton and up until a few years ago you could also fly from Shoreham near Brighton. The first time I flew on a Tri-lander I was quite shocked. We loaded onto the very cramped little plane with its three engines, one on each wing and one on top of the plane. I was sat next to the door which had a lot of gaffer tape on it and was secured shut with a bungee cord. There was a gap all around the door, and it was raining and by the time we landed in Alderney I was quite soaked through.

It's an interesting landing on Alderney too, and depending on which way the wind is blowing dictates whether you land on the one tiny strip of tarmac or on the grass. Either way it's a testament to the skill of the pilot that you land at all! The airport is really just a glorified shed but the welcome is warm and the baggage area is amusing as you watch the tiny little plane that has miraculously stayed airborne and juddered its way at around 1500 ft across the channel to this glorious little emerald jewel of an island, disgorge your luggage which is then wheeled over to the chute and in a rather hasty and chaotic manner shoved through the tough plastic curtains at such a speed that trying to pick up your bag or case is something of a challenge. If you come away unbruised then you have done well.

I am extremely fond of Alderney and have had many adventures there. I have seen Puffins on Berhou, seals swimming in the waters, explored the German defences which are dominant on the island (Alderney was occupied during WW 2) The beaches are amazing and pristine and on a warm day rival any beach anywhere. The water is crystal clear, the rock pools plentiful, the ice cream is divine! I will tell you more of Alderney in time, for now, I merely wanted to introduce you to it.

Welcome to Alderney where the pace of life is one that we should all be able to live at.

First Post

So this is my first post and I have absolutely no idea what the hell I am doing! I appear t have managed to create two identical blogspots and have no idea how to remove the one I do not want. I guess I need a small person to show me how to make it work.

My name is Woozle. Obviously that's not my real name, but for now, until I trust whoever has the misfortune to stumble across this rambling diatribe such as it is, Woozle is all you're getting. I'm not sure quite how this is going to work, but I do have so many stories to tell that it seems a shame to keep them all to myself and not to share them out with other people. If I raise a smile on just one face then my work here is valid. I love to laugh myself and I love to ear others laugh as well.

So if you're a little off the wall and ready for a bit of a leap of faith, then take my hand, close your eyes and jump and join me for the journey through the chaotic and more bizarre adventures of my life.