Chicken Manure!

Posted on February 24, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

I do love shopping at discount stores, you never know what you’re going to find. Many years ago I worked on a chicken farm. Every so often we used to clear out the chicken muck from the large sheds. It was an aroma-filled job that used to clear chesty coughs and colds…

Many many years ago,
Into muck-filled sheds I’d go,
The air was filled with a pungent perfume,
Replaced by clean shavings very soon!
We shifted many tons of muck,
(not a job with any luck!),
Never thought I’d ever see,
Bags in a shop – get one free!

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11^th 2015
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

Artistic Conundrums!

Posted on February 21, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

As grandparent child minders, Mrs Bard and I are expected to be multi talented. In fact I would venture to suggest that our artistic prowess has improved so much that an exhibition could follow soon…

Vincent van Goch,
Had a cough,
Fell into a water trough.
Claude Monet,
Didn’t stay,
Left him for another day.
Henri Matisse,
Called the police,
Then ran off with Gaugin’s niece.
Francis Bacon,
Thought he was taken,
Dragged him out shiverin’ and shakin’!
Georgia O’Keefe,
Witnessed his grief,
And slid a blanket underneath.
Edward Hopper,
Was improper,
Thought that he would come a cropper.
Roy Lichtenstein,
Thought it time,
To open up a bottle of wine!

…what Jackson Pollock did, history mercifully doesn’t relate!
With apologies to artists everywhere.

Feeding The Fire!

Posted on February 17, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I chopped some wood for the farmhouse wood burner. It was neither stressful nor did it carry much sense of achievement. The axe stayed firmly in my imagination along with a woodsman from many years ago…

The woodsman goes into the forest,
Axe slung over his shoulder.
His wife dressed in hessian,
Clutching a babe-in-arms,
Waves from the woodland cottage door,
A wisp of smoke escapes from the chimney.
They are almost out of logs.
He fells the tree with mighty swings of the axe,
By nightfall he wearily carries home an armful of warmth for his family,
Job done.

The woodshed is almost empty,
I fetch the JCB tractor from the barn and attach the log splitter.
The large bucket is attached to the JCB Loadall.
Sections of matured tree trunk are bought into the barn (it’s raining!).
No sweat will be needed here, the machine never grunts!
Within the hour over a ton of logs are in the bucket.
A slight sweat is raised when throwing logs into the woodshed,
Job done.
…Which would you prefer: The pastoral or the modern?

The Hycrack log splitter can be seen in action on Youtube : www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFQMIu63efo

The Snap Decision!

Posted on February 11, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

The other day I went in search of cheese biscuits. Not the most exciting quest when put alongside the Holy Grail, or the source of the Nile, I grant you, but someone’s got to do it. What I found might shock you…

I found biscuits for cheese from Christmas,
Unopened in the pack,
But in the corner was a hole,
I almost put them back!
I fetched a mousetrap from the drawer,
I bated it with care,
A chocolate coin from the cupboard,
The last one that was there!
Within an hour a mighty snap,
Announced the battle won,
Another snap some time later,
His brother too, was done!

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

Posted on February 9, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

We have a natural sun-trap in a passage in the farmhouse. Yesterday I was surprised to find two terriers were sitting, like pensioners in a care home, taking in the suns rays. I could hear them talking at each other…

Two terriers were sitting in the afternoon sun,
“What do you think’s for tea,” commented one.
“Never liked the beach,” said the other,
“I think you’re confusing me with my brother.”
“I think I’m getting thirsty,” the first one said.
“You’re wrong, it’s Sunday, soon be time for bed!”
“I can’t seem to concentrate, I’m getting like Cyril,
Oh look over there, I’m sure I saw a squirrel!”
“The worst thing about being the age we are,
Can’t remember if we chase the human or the car!”
“If we chase the human and get the wrong one,
We’ll end up in a care home sitting in the sun!”

Be kind to your children… they will chose your care home!

Dedicated to Baggins the Cat, from his human and doggy friends, may he rest in peace, chasing winged mice for eternity!

Crops Away!

Posted on February 6, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday saw the final load of last year’s harvest leave the farm. It is a time for reflection, but also anticipation of another harvest to come. It marks the start of a ‘deep clean’ campaign to ensure that crops leaving this farm are up to standard…

The last of Harvest ’14 has left the farm,
Unless a zombie attack there is no alarm,
The shed is empty, the grain store clear,
No more crops ‘till harvest appear.
Before that sweeping, vacuuming too,
Washing implements till they shine like new!
I’ll await an inspector with a fine toothcomb,
Who’ll frighten me to death then disappear home!
Finally comes August such far off days,
The crops will return in a hot heat haze!
And I will sing a happy refrain:
“Harvest is here off we go again!”Thanks to all the drivers who have carted away our grain. You’re a great bunch who deserve more recognition for the work you all do.

Limpy The Pheasant!

Posted on February 5, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

In the open-sided shed behind the house I have a place for sweepings from the grain store. All kinds of birds flock there to eat, particularly during this cold and snowy weather. One frequent visitor is Limpy the cock-pheasant who cannot help but smile these days…

Limpy the pheasant is most relieved,
To see February around again,
He doesn’t care about the snow,
He doesn’t mind the rain,
He just satisfies himself,
To live right by the farm,
And limp up to the feeding bay,
With no sense of alarm!
There is no more sound of shooting,
No men dressed up in tweed,
His only worry is each day,
Where am I going to feed?
The only thing to worry him,
Apart from that old dog fox,
Is whether he’ll find himself a hen,
Before any other cocks!

Delivering Hay!

Posted on February 3, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

The hay I made last summer is now being delivered and eaten by horses around North Hertfordshire. In the most part the end users are very pleased to see the supplies arrive and stacked in the barn…

I took hay to a livery yard,
Didn’t have to travel far,
A carefully stacked up load,
On a trailer behind the car!
Russell came to help me,
As I find it quite a strain,
Chucking bales around,
As if 21 again!

The horses seemed pleased to see us,
“Our supplies were getting low,
Come on get those bales off
Then we will let you go!”
As I was reversing out of the yard,
To Russell an old horse said,
“Thank heavens you’re here with that oldie,
He’s unfit and over-fed!”

I stopped the car to remonstrate,
Was calm and polite of course,
When all of a sudden it struck me,
“Oh! Good grief, a TALKING HORSE!”

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11^th 2015
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

Ungrateful Ducks!

Posted on January 31, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

When I looked out of the window this morning our motley collection of ducks were marching across the field for their breakfast. I remembered that I’d left a tasty selection of sweepings in the forklift bucket. I would like think they were grateful but their thanks were sparse…

“Quack, Qrack, Qack!
Where’s our bloody food?
We’ve marched across six bloody times,
We could say something rude!
What do you call this offering?
Odd selection of grains and dust,
Actually it’s quite tasty,
We’ll eat it if we must!
You can go now if you wish,
But let’s give you a warning,
We won’t put up with lateness,
Of breakfast tomorrow morning!”

During this cold weather please remember to put out scraps for your garden birds. They’ll be more grateful than our ducks, I promise you!

Stereotypes!

Posted on January 29, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I had a telephone conference with a stereotypical pariah, who turned out to be extremely helpful and pleasant. It led me to consider how easy it is to take part in mass criticism and tar everyone with a ‘one-size-fits-all’ brush. Can you guess his occupation (answer at the end)…

All farmers are millionaires,
They drive around all day,
Shouting out instructions,
Never fling a bale of hay!
They always have a collie,
Who barks when folk walk by,
They’re always pleading poverty,
It’s enough to make you cry!
They’re always dressed in tweed,
Shoot anything that flies,
To open up their wallet,
With a crowbar prise!
They grub up all the hedgerows
Their face is always tanned,
They scream at any walkers:
“Get orf my ‘effin land!”

To Mike, my new Lloyds Bank manager and all those before him.

Baldock Bard

Verse and Worse from the Baldock Versemonger

Category Archives: Farm and Countryside Life

Chicken Manure!

Artistic Conundrums!

Feeding The Fire!

The Snap Decision!

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

Crops Away!

Limpy The Pheasant!

Delivering Hay!

Ungrateful Ducks!

Stereotypes!