The Seagull Whisperer!

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Sammy SeagullNone of my friends who live anywhere near the sea can understand why I quite like seagulls! Many of them have a deep-rotted hatred of these birds and some even dream of their extinction. For me they evoke memories of long-ago holidays, queuing to board a ferry at Dover, with an audible backdrop of “caw-caw-caw!”

We had an old friend, Di, who lived all her life in a seaside town in the south of the country. She hated seagulls, however she was even less fond of her neighbour.
In retirement he waged a relentless war, from his garden and back yard, against these birds using every novel method he could dream up.
Unfortunately for him, he was fighting a losing battle, as not only did he live next to Di, but the neighbour on the other side was a lonely old woman who put out daily bread for the birds, despite being subject to a court order banning the practice!
Di had one unique talent. She could imitate the “pew, pew, pew” call of a seagull chick so well that, even out of the breeding season, seagulls would flock to the street to seek out these imaginary chicks.
She would stand outside her back door, do the call, and her neighbour would appear, a short angry bald dumpy man, frantically waving a very long bamboo pole onto which was attached a plastic bag, shouting, “SHOO, SHOO, SHOO!” at the circling birds!

On Monday morning we will be saying our final farewells to Di at the crematorium. I do hope there will be some seagulls circling overhead, it would be such an appropriate final tribute to her unique talent.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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Farewell to Three!

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threeAccording to my media advisor, Tone, television channel BBC Three is no longer available via digital TV. Being a mere yokel, son of the soil and general rustic, I was much confused.  Enquiring further, I was told by Tone that if I wanted to watch it, I would have to use the Internet. Poor old BBC3, banished from the stable and out in the cold…

Farewell then,
to BBC 3,
you had other lovers,
but never me!

When last night,
I looked around,
discovered then,
you’d gone to ground.

You had a niche,
so they said,
now you’re consigned,
to the Web.

Wherever you are,
you’ll find a gap,
but I’ll never know,
if you were good or crap!

© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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Memory of a Mother

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snowdropsYesterday afternoon it was bright but with a definite chill in the air. Walking through the woods behind the farm I came upon a patch of snowdrops, planted many years ago by my mother…

There’s a small reminder,
at this time of year,
that my mother left behind,
to remind us she was here.
Her birthday was last Wednesday,
102 she would have been,
now she rests in the churchyard,
her epitaph this snowdrop scene.

It’s rather fitting that my 1,200th posting should be in memory of my mother. To all mothers out there, have a great day and thank you for everything you do.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
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Friends Like Ours

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D Alde 1On Wednesday, a friendly neighbour left some flowers outside our door along with a simple, kind message. Another left a box of Quality Street chocolates ‘to help us through the next few days.’
In past years, on the anniversary of my son David’s death, I’ve written about him. However, as much as I still miss him like crazy, even after 13 years, his story is much more about friendship and the way he lived and loved than it is about his loss.

David collected friends in the same way some collect Star Wars memorabilia, football cards or stamps. He loved people of all sorts and all ages. Since his death in a car at university, aged 22, it is both his and our friends that have kept us sane. Not ‘friends’ in the much hyped and misunderstood social media ‘never met’ context, but true friends; the sort who aren’t embarrassed to see a grown man cry, the sort who show empathy as well as sympathy and the sort who are not embarrassed to share their own family moments with us.
Recently a friend of David’s called in so he could share his wonderful news of impending fatherhood with us. It was a magical moment, albeit with a slight tinge of sadness around the outer edges, but one we were so grateful to be included in.

So this year I’d like you to do something special. Either in David’s memory (whether you knew him or not), or just because you want to – I’d like you to find a new friend. It may be that colleague that’s new to the office. It could be someone you see on your daily commute or someone you’ve always wanted to speak to but didn’t have the courage. Here’s your excuse: say “David told me to speak to you!”

Or you could do an Act Of Random Kindness to a complete stranger. Who knows, you might even make a new friend.

…or just enjoy your day, you deserve it!

Miss you David x

© Baldock Bard 2016
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The True Meaning of Friendship

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Sometimes in life, quite by accident, all the stars align to create an unexpected day. Today is one of those. This morning I awoke in Staffordshire, staying with my old friend Tony. Nothing unusual about that!
Today I am off to Harper Adams University College to do a BASIS course about drone-use in agriculture. In doing this I will pass the spot where a drunk driver killed my son when he was a student at the college.
By absolute coincidence, today would have also been the 60th birthday of Tony’s wife Marsya (after whom my granddaughter is named).
During the living hell that happens to a family after a fatal road traffic accident, Marsya became our eyes, ears and body up here, attending the Coroners Court, local memorial services, taking pressure from us and much much more.
She was one of the most talented journalists of her age, a wonderful mother, wife, user of words and wearer of country casuals.
Above all, she was truly a friend in need and a friend indeed.

We all miss her.

Happy Birthday Mars.

Baldock Bard

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The Bank Holiday Funfair

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FunfairSick of the stop-start harvest, and fed up with looking at wheat soaking up rain out in the fields, Mrs Bard and I made for a riverside abode over the Bank Holiday. A funfair, dragon-boat racing and fireworks were to be the ideal distraction from the soggy farm. Saturday’s drowning of a 40-year-old father of three young children, as he swam to retrieve a football, put life sharply into prospective. The soggy fields were forgotten, the charity dragon boat racing was cancelled along with the fireworks and the funfair was left to spend a damp and long weekend with little reward…

The funfair stays,
bedraggled by Bank Holiday weather;
damp rides, damp showmen,
and dampened spirits.

Flowers accumulate,
at the riverside in memory,
of a father of three small children,
who slipped under the water,
not yards from the riverbank.

For the family left behind,
life is not fun,
nor is it fair.

Our thoughts are for the family and friends of James Griffin, RIP.

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

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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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22 (35) Today!

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Trailer TailgateIt is strange how sometimes inanimate items can provoke the strongest of reactions. Today’s photo may seem rather strange but the words were written by my son, David, on August 27th 2002. He was driving the tractor and trailer, bringing wheat back to the farm on his 22nd birthday and was as happy as happy could be. Doing what he loved, surrounded by people he loved on the farm he loved.
But, of course, life is not a fairytale and David was killed by a drunk driver at university the following February, aged 22.
The following harvest I went to fetch the tailgate to put on the trailer. As it was heavier than I could possibly carry, I attached it by chain to the forklift. While traveling up the yard it swung around to reveal the message. It was the first of many unexpected moments that would (and will) span the rest of my life.
The trailer is long since gone, however the photo and memory survive. This day has become harder as the years progress and there is no answer or relief.
Perhaps I should put ’35 Today’ on our current trailer.

Please give your loved ones an extra hug today. If you can’t, give them a ring and say those three immortal words: “I love You”.

Happy Birthday David, miss you.
D HarvestHarvest 2002 with David at the wheel!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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every Saturday until the end of October

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The Farmers Last Ride!

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Final JourneyYesterday I went to the funeral of my cousin and old friend, Roger. The church was packed with standing-room outside the only option for late-comers. A slight shower when we came out of the service reminded us that, to us farmers, rain is an important ingredient in life. Afterwards we all congregated in the empty grain barn to chat and reminisce. However before the funeral, Roger had one last wish…

In back of the old Toyota,
one last chance you see,
for the farmer to look around his crops,
‘A farmer’s always a farmer, he be!’

Down the side of the oats,
across the road to the wheat,
back past the field of beans,
now his tour is complete.

So it’s up to the church for Roger,
where friends are waiting inside,
tears and remembrance a-plenty,
after the farmer’s last ride.

Take care old friend. May your furrow be always straight and the following winds always be warm and fair! BB.

© Baldock Bard 2015
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For The Chop

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ChainsawI like farm machinery, however there is one machine on the farm that I detest – the chainsaw. Luckily my son-in-law, John, has passed all his tests and is competent with a machine that, in the wrong hands, can result in what they now term ‘life-changing injuries’…

I knew a bloke called Andy,
Trees he went to lop,
Didn’t wear protective trousers,
Friends now call him ‘Hop’.

Stay safe out there, and if you’re using a chainsaw, get yourself some protection. £100 for a good pair of protective trousers is a small price to pay.

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

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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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Goodbye Old Friend

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LinseedThere is a time for all of us to hang up our coat, take a bow and leave the world’s stage. This weekend it was the turn of my cousin and friend, Roger, to give a final wave and disappear from sight.

Roger was a gentle-man, farmer and engineer. Had circumstances been different he might have been one of the greatest engineers of our generation. Some years ago he took an old Land Rover and built himself a self-propelled sprayer, because he felt he could do better than what was available on the market at the time. He also built a rough-terrain forklift and a seed drill than would still outshine much of what is on the market today.

He used to say how jealous of me he was of me with my ‘oh look there’s a squirrel’ ways. I used to say that I wished my welding looked like his and not a pile of bird droppings!

He could sometimes be nervous and sweat profusely. Once, when returning from a holiday in France, he was nervous about entering the customs shed in our over-laden car. Unfortunately he knew only too well that the car had been almost empty on the outward crossing. He sat in the back, sweating profusely as the customs officer looked in the boot, an inch away from many many bottles of wine, before we were waved clear much to his relief!

Although we saw little of each other in the latter years, when we did meet up it was as if it had been but days.

I was his best man (twice out of three) but never the better man.

Goodbye old friend, keep those plough lines straight and the combine fire extinguisher charged.

BB

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