Category Archives: People and Personalities

Tractor Girl’s Ultimate Tractor Trip!

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Old Massey 165The media have been reporting this week that a Dutch actress is driving a Massey Ferguson tractor to the South Pole. Manon ‘Tractor Girl’ Ossevoort has around 3,000 miles to go on the ultimate tractor-trip. Originally, in 2005 she drove the length of Africa, but missed the boat for Antartica. Since then she has been raising money to complete the journey of 3,000 miles to the South Pole. Her Massey Ferguson tractor is in slightly better shape than our old one at the back of the barn, it is also warmer inside the cab…

The old Massey sits at the back of the barn,
Dreaming of lands far away,
The chance to drive to the end of the world,
Will, alas, not be coming her way!
She dreams of harvest, she dreams of the plough,
She dreams of the farm all day,
One day she dreams of reworking the fields,
Rather than rusting away.

www.smithsonianmag.com carries a very well written article about the remarkable journey of ‘Tractor Girl’ Manon Ossevoort. We wish her the very best of luck.

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above


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

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You Can Never Go Back?

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LongstoweToday is my 900th posting and I started to look back. But the more I looked back the more I became convinced that it was a fruitless exercise. However a recent visit to a place that was very much part of my past, triggered memories. I want to tell you about when the past catches up with you…

Many years ago, when I told a friend that I was going back to visit former work colleagues at a farm I used to work on, I was told that you can never go back. So I took the advice and cancelled my planned visit.

Fast-forward thirty-six years and five months to a recent visit.

I went to a meeting to learn about the massive expansion in rules and regulations that is hitting farming right now. The venue was the Village Hall at Longstowe in Cambridgeshire, the very village I had left in 1978. Apart from a cursory look around when my children were small, I hadn’t been near the village since I left the farm.
Around fifty farmers had an instructive walk around part of the farm estate, guided by experts in the new regulations and the present owner. Much had changed, however I did recognise certain fields and that a fence that I had erected had recently been replaced! I spoke to the present owner (son of the owner that I knew), we chatted about certain parts of the farm and then he dropped a bombshell. The man who I had worked closely with all those years ago, Derek, and who I had thought so very old at the time, had only recently died.

Derek was ‘of the village’. He was born, raised and worked there.
His father was Station-Master until Beeching axed the line in the sixties. Once when young, Derek had taken the train to London. He was about to alight at Kings Cross when he saw all the people, decided that crowds were not for him and stayed on the train until he was safely back home.

Derek had a Morris Marina that despite its age had done minimal mileage. This was unsurprising as the furthest it was ever driven was an occasional trip to Gamlingay, a round trip of around twelve miles. Derek would get the car out of the garage and go through an exhaustive list of checks. During this time word would spread and his cousin ‘Wooper’, ‘Chalky’ White and anyone else nearby, would take their places in the car! Derek never complained but was always surprised how quickly word spread!

When my wife and I became engaged, Derek informed me that his mother and father wished to meet my intended. A Saturday morning was chosen and we were shown, like royalty, into the front room. Derek’s mother produced special mid-morning fare, Camp Coffee made with two heaped teaspoons of sugar, condensed milk and Woolworths finest ‘slab’ fruit-cake. We had a wonderful morning that remains as vivid thirty-six years later as it did back then.

Sad to say, after I left, I never saw Derek again. Despite all the friendship shown to a naive youngster, the many lessons and hours of companionship on the farm that this true gentle-man imparted, I just didn’t make the effort because I’d been told ‘you can’t go back’.

On a day when the change in farming could not have been more emphasised, my thoughts were with an ordinary man who taught me so much, not just about farming, but about life.

So, Derek, rest peacefully, i’m so sorry I didn’t make the effort.
If you ever get a chance to go back in time, just do it, you’ll regret it if you don’t.

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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

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Alex Rushmer’s Salted Caramel Chocolate Pot!

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ChocpotA week ago, Mrs Bard and I turned up at the Hole in the Wall restaurant outside Cambridge, home to chef and Masterchef finalist, Alex Rushmer. Unfortunately for us there was no room at the inn. The following week I climbed a hill in Norfolk to get a phone signal and pleaded until, rather like the tiny spacecraft clinging to a comet 4 billion miles away, we were offered a table at the last knockings of this Friday’s lunch service.
I have an apology to make. When choosing the picture for today I realise that by looking very closely, I can see microscopic remains of Alex Rushmer’s Salted Caramel Chocolate Pot clinging to the side of the glass along with a splodge of wasted salted caramel on the plate. The possibly that I may have missed some of this magnificent pudding has caused me a very sleepless night…

I had a nightmare this night past,
I’d left chocolate pudding in my glass,
No matter what implements I used,
Chocolate and caramel to the glass was fused.
I tried to use my index finger,
Alas parts of the chocolate still did linger.
Had I possessed a lizard tongue,
Remaining pudding would have been none.
Had I had more supple knees,
Could have been Tom Cruise with trapeze!
The provided spoon led to this strife,
Wore it down ‘till it resembled a knife!
What I really should have done,
Stop the scraping – order another one!

Our meal was, like the little spacecraft, out of this world.
If you too would like to taste Alex Rushmer’s remarkable food, visit his website http://holeinthewallcambridge.com or book on ring the Hole in the Wall on 01223 812 282

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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In Praise of the Humble Cucumber!

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The CucumberSome years ago, Mrs Bard grew some cucumbers in our small greenhouse. She lovingly watered, fed and cared for them. When they were ready to pick, one by one they disappeared. When there was just one remaining she kept watch at the window. She was about to give up her vigil when she spied the culprit. Our cat had crept into the  greenhouse and was chomping on the remaining cucumber. If it happens now we blame our granddaughter who is equally as fond of them as the cat all those years ago…

There’s nothing like cucumber,
If you’re standing in a queue,
Maybe at the airport,
On the way to Timbucktoo!

They also enjoy cucumber,
In Sandwich down in Kent,
They are so very fond of it,
They say it’s heaven sent!

You’ll always find cucumber,
When you have tea at the Ritz,
It goes so well with Earl Grey,
Better than any biscuits!

Let’s hear it for the cucumber,
It makes a salad green,
Between two sheets of soft white bread
It’s fit for a noble Queen!

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11th 2015
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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Ayesha and Marlee – The Wedding!

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Ayesha & MarleeThere comes a time in life when all sorts of events serve to highlight the ageing process. One particular event is the marriage of your children’s friends. You know their age, however there is a part of your shrinking brain that still sees them as the age you first knew them! Yesterday (ten-year-old!) Ayesha was married to Marlee on the island of Malta…

Ayesha Visram,
went forth to the altar,
With fiancée Marlee,
on the Island of Malta.
They were wed,
At the Raddison Blu,
Looking over the sea,
Where they said “Yes I do!”

Miss Visram’s missed school,
For her wedding day,
The children all miss her,
As she is away.
Soon after half-term,
She’ll return heaven-sent,
They’ll find that Miss Visram,
Is now Mrs Dent!

Many congratulations to Ayesha and Marlee.
May happiness, love and joy be yours always.

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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The Band of Comforters!

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Precious MonkeyWhen you were little did you have a toy, blanket or even piece of cloth you couldn’t be without? My granddaughter has a monkey. She is the most precious thing in her world. There are also two reserves, but they fail to make the grade, are immediately identified as being ‘not the one’ and rejected. The ‘Chosen One’ reigns supreme…

I see a monkey swinging from a tree,
She’s a very special monkey, one of three!
Sometimes she hides, just to be bad,
There’s one big panic waiting to be had!
My granddaughter spends her time sucking the tail,
If Monkey were missing then sleep would not prevail!
So in reserve (but not quite the same),
Are the two other monkeys who share her name!
So here’s to all comforters for the job they do,
They’re loved, abused, down trodden, but still love you!

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until October 18th
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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The Sunday Papers

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Sunday PapersI used to religiously buy a Sunday newspaper. Yesterday Mrs Bard went shopping and came back with a free copy. I wondered if anyone was left who had the time to trawl through such a weighty tome. There were three magazines, numerous sections and more inserts than you could count. You’d need a whole row of budgie cages to use up this lot…

I looked at the Sunday papers,
There’s very little news,
An awful lot of filler,
And someone else’s views!

What a mess around the world,
Syria and Iraq,
A murder suspects body,
Found hanging in a park.

Polititian’s U-turns,
That’s no news to us,
There are by-elections coming,
The polls will make a fuss!

Someone’s marriage is over,
Someone’s in the dock,
A Bishop is an adulterer,
Someone’s wife he did defrock!

An actor is now married,
The world’s press were there,
Leading to a question,
Do we really care?

Pages of irrelevant words,
With opinion by the score,
Will the paper become extinct?
It looks like a dinosaur.

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until October 18th
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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Mrs Wallet and The Boot Sale… a true(ish) story

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Mrs WalletA few weeks ago a couple handed in a wallet at the car boot sale. Inside was some money, cards, driving licence and credit cards, everything needed for modern daily life. I tried in vain to get one of the card suppliers to contact the lady who had lost the card, I even tried the roadside recovery organisation, all to no avail. Later on, the wallet and the lady were re-united. I wrote this to thank the couple who handed the wallet in…

Once upon a time, a small dark-blue wallet called ‘Mrs Wallet’ lived with her human in a small village in Bedfordshire. She had a very important job. It was her duty to look after everything her human needed when she went shopping: credit cards, drivers licence, road rescue card and of course money! She took this responsibility very seriously and was happy in her work. So happy was she that that every time her human opened her up, her Velcro strip sang with pleasure!

One Saturday morning, Mrs Wallet’s human said, “We’re off to a boot sale!” Mrs Wallet froze with terror. Was it not a fortnight ago that a purse she had met in the supermarket had told her that car boot sales were full of ‘pirates, brigands and cut-throats’, that stole purses and wallets, emptied their contents and abandoned them in skips, litter bins or on the side of the road!

Mrs Wallet and her human arrived in a field just outside Baldock, the sun was shining, the grass was green and the sky was blue. They parked the car and walked into the selling area. It didn’t look like a field full of pirates, brigands and cut-throats. Everyone there, whether behind a table full of exciting things or walking about shopping, looked very normal. In fact Mrs Wallet thought they looked as normal as in the supermarket or any other shop she’d ever visited.

Mrs Wallet’s human seemed to be enjoying herself; she chatted to stallholders, had a cup of tea at the burger van and bought an ornament (which wasn’t to Mrs Wallet’s taste) to go on the windowsill in the kitchen. Mrs Wallet was happy, her Velcro sang with joy.
They were just about to leave for home when Mrs Wallet’s human noticed a china doll on a stall next to the exit. Mrs Wallet was put down onto the pasting table next to a rather scruffy bear while the doll was examined. Mrs Wallet didn’t like the doll, her human had too many already and all they did was collect dust in the old chair by the front door. She heaved a sigh of relief when her human put down the doll, told the seller that it wasn’t quite what she wanted, and walked away towards the exit.

Mrs Wallet tried to scream but her Velcro mouth was stuck solid. She’d been left behind, abandoned and forgotten. She looked around. All the humans looked like pirates, brigands and cut-throats! Little old ladies had knives hidden in their knitting bags, old men brandished walking sticks that were swords in disguise and wasn’t that child’s water pistol full of acid? She was terrified.

A hand picked her up. “That lady left her wallet behind,” a pirate’s voice rang out. Another voice, this time not unlike her human said, “We could take it to the Organiser?” The lady, whose hands were soft, picked her up and Mrs Wallet felt a little safer. However her terror returned as she saw that she was being taken to a terrifying old man dressed in a fluorescent jacket. She was being delivered into the hands of the Pirate Captain!
A rough hand tore open her Velcro, she felt cards being removed. This was it, this is what the purse in the supermarket had warned her about. The next stop for her was a skip, litter bin or roadside verge.

She heard the Pirate Captain speaking on the phone, “Yes, I know you’re roadside assistance, but could you contact this lady and tell her she left her wallet at the bootsale?” and “Yes, I realize it’s not my credit card. No, I don’t want to cancel it, it’s not mine to cancel, could you just let the lady know that she’s left it at the bootsale?” The pirate then said a word that made Mrs Wallet blush and she was forced into the dark glovebox of his pirate-mobile.

Some minutes later she heard a muffled phone ring and the pirate’s gruff voice: “Yes,” she heard him say, “a couple handed it in, we’ll see you soon.” Mrs Wallet hardly dared believe what she was hearing, was her human going to rescue her? Sometime later, sunlight streamed into her glovebox of captivity. The rough Pirate Captain’s hand reached in and grabbed her, and handed her over… to her human! She was so happy that her Velcro sung with joy again.

She would never listen to what a purse told her ever again and she’d always enjoy coming to the Baldock Car Boot Sale where most people were helpful, kind and honest, with very few pirates, brigands and cut-throats!

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until October!
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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Friends!

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All FriendsMrs Bard and I spent a wonderful weekend surrounded by a random selection of friends. When they had all scattered back to their everyday lives and the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, I suddenly realised how lucky we were in friendship. Someone once told me that you don’t make lasting friends when you get older. Believe me that’s so untrue, most of the friends who’s company we enjoyed yesterday, were unknown to us ten years ago. Go on, shock yourself, make a new friend today…

Where would we be without friends?
On a wonderful sunny afternoon,
There’s talk and laughter and merriment,
And the day passes all too soon!
Some friends fall by the wayside,
When it’s bumpy they just can’t hang on,
But others just cling tighter,
And are there when things go wrong!
So here’s to you and to friendship,
To times we’ll never forget,
Maybe I don’t even know you,
It’s simply we haven’t yet met!

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until October!
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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JCB Loadall Ice Bucket Challenge!

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JCB IcebucketYesterday evening on the farm we did an Ice Bucket Challenge. Using a JCB Loadall and bucket we took up the challenge set by a JCB dealer in the USA! It is a sign of our times that trends grow (and recede) in the flash of an eye. Who knows what will be popular next week…

Have you done an Ice Bucket Challenge,
And been soaked to the skin?
Have you then thought of others,
You’d like to see wet (with a grin!)
Last night four adventurous souls,
Stood in a field on the farm,
The JCB bucket was brimmed,
Which was rather a cause for alarm!
Suddenly the water was tumbling
As out of the bucket it poured
Thank heavens it was for charity
A complete soaking ensured!

Congratulations to Siân, Sian, Rhodri and Laura for their bravery!
To see full video, go to Facebook: Simon Holtom

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk
The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until October!
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

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