Happy Hippo

Which would require a Dentist!

Probably because they did something useful.🤣

I've not heard any screams from the Northern outpost yet!

Morgan came around yesterday and did some tree pruning and cleared the old garden shed in preparation for it's and replacement on Monday. In the afternoon I went over to the hospital at Shrewsbury on a follow up appointment after my latest bout of laser surgery. The ocular pressures have now dropped considerably, so I've been told that I can stop taking the additional medication I'd been taking, so I'm now back on one drop per eye per day. Of course they will continue to monitor this and I'm expecting a further check in 3 months time. Not having to take so many eye drops, which have a somewhat 'abrasive' effect on the eye, ought to stop me looking like a drunkard who has not slept for 3 nights! So, I will now be bright eyed once more, and add that to Ramrod Hunt's spinal experiences and it's a thumbs up for certain departments of the NHS in Shropshire. Of course all this good news has to be tempered with the aftermath of our grandchildren's latest visit: They have left Nyda with a cold. Those who have read these pages for some time will know that such an event is not to be sniffed at, and that recovery will be a long drawn out affair. The last time they visited, just after Christmas, colds were left as farewell gifts, and we have only just recovered from these. I think the visit to the Guiding event we had been planning on attending today, will be a non starter. This means I can get on with some work in the garage, although the whine and scream of various power tools just under the bed sick room window might not be appreciated.

If you don't need them, Dave Hunt and I will share a packet between us.

I'm rather paranoid about giving out personal details. If someone asks if I have xxx's telephone number/email address/home address, I ask the for theirs and tell them I will pass it on to xxx who can decide to call them back if required.

Take that Skippy🤣

Since they've already been through either a scissor or tunnel type trap, they are long past caring if they get nailed to a fence. Although we have to remember that this is a now a practice very much confined to history. We also no longer legally have cock fighting or bear baiting in the UK, nor do we flog human miscreants for minor offences nor hang them for slightly more serious ones..

I was reading the other day that modern thoughts on animal relocation are not as simple as humans moving to a new town and making new friends. Relocation doesn't work with Moles. Once they are out of the locale they were born in, they just cannot adjust and die. The same with a lot of venomous snakes species.

At one stage in the 1950s, there used to be a 2/- bounty on grey squirrel tails. I do have a recipe for grey squirrel if anyone is interested.

That you have no sheds?

The chances are it was not the farmer doing it but the official mole catcher for the area. If you have livestock such as horses or cattle, then one of these valuable animals putting a hoof down into a mole tunnel could result in a broken leg (same problem with rabbits that burrow in the middle of fields where horses graze), and the animal having to be humanely destroyed. This has a huge financial impact on the farmer, so he employs the mole catcher. Traditional mole catchers were paid on a headcount, so using poison gas was not really an option as the results were not easy to see (and has been banned for a number of years now). so the molecatcher would display the moles that had been trapped by pinning them to the fence or a convenient gateway, thus proving they had been doing their job and would get paid accordingly. These days molecatchers tend to be paid a set fee, so the requirement to show their handiwork is no longer a necessity. The only ignorance is not understanding why things were done like that in days gone by.

I'm surprised that you didn't regularly pull a muscle or fall over and sprain an ankle along that stretch allowing for even more time to observe the important things in life. When we moved into our current home (in 1994), when it was in a very quiet lane and not 'the must live place' in the area, the late John Brookes who had a smallholding directly opposite our house, regularly used to hang the corpses of moles on the gate. My son, Morgan, who showed a great interest in all things agricultural, soon knew how to set and the best places to site, mole and rat traps. He also learned how to harness up working horses and drive them. He soon became friendly with one of the local farm workers, one Pete Gale, who having seen him ploughing with a horse, decided that he needed to learn ploughing with a tractor, so by the time he was 11, he was very adept at working with horses and their mechanical replacements. Although Pete has long retired, Morgan still goes around to see him for a chat.

Although I am really sympathetic to your discomfort, I started to smirk when I first misread that Reception took your cretin reading (mid range, so utterly normal). This was compounded, when I then scanned, in no particular order, one getting an annual service which involved an enormous swelling, a lady and then fluid spraying everywhere. I must find my reading glasses. Dear Lord, did you bite it? What did they do to you?

That's a very astute observation!

For those interested in military history, Ramrod was a type of daylight offensive raid carried out by the RAF between winning the BoB in 1940 and the allied invasion of Europe in 1944. The general theme would be a small bomber force would attack a specific target whilst supported by a large fighter formation. On a different track, there was also a Mr Ramrod, who made a certain type of film on the 1980s.

Cutting and buttering slices of Bara Brith then pouring good measures of Penderyn would probably be more beneficial for recovery.

Fochriw!

I don't think my three rail DoM ever had capacitors. No doubt made before the 'stay alive' became commonplace🤣.

From my experience of using the Puma in the support helicopter fleet, all repairs are conducted using black duct tape.

After visiting Blist's Hill Victorian Town my afternoon has been taken up carrying out more repairs. My grandson had kindly brought his scooter with him as it was unridable with a rather wonky back wheel. Removing the wheel revealed that all the plastic insert which carried the axle through the roller bearings had collapsed, and the roller bearings were now just a pair of grooved metal washers. Not having any roller bearings to hand, I did manage to find a large lump of Nylon rod which was turned down, and bored to 10 mm id. This was then force fitted into the scooter wheel. A scrap bit of 1/2" dia brass rod was then turned down to 10 mm, and bored 8 mm for the axle. Not as sophisticated as the original, definitely a more agricultural repair. However, it is a lot sturdier than the original, and should now last until the end of the scooter's life. On handing it back to the owner, I asked if it was ok? 'It'll do', was the reply.

He is going to watch Back to the Future.

You mixing me up with Sheepbloke?

I could never understand those individuals who used to have a lucky rabbit's foot....