Happy St David’s Day!

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Daffs“Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus!” will be the greeting across Wales and the Welsh-speaking world this morning. Daffodils will be worn and schoolchildren will dress up in their national costume. Back in 1975 all this was alien to this Englishman. I knew that Cardiff was the capital of this small but resilient chapel, rugby and beer loving nation, but little else.

On a wet autumn afternoon, I found myself, a twenty-year-old nervous Englishman, driving across the Severn Bridge (there was only one  in those days) and into a foreign land. Having driven some way along the A48 (before the days of the M4), my poor little mini, unused to such torrential downpours in its native East of England, started to cough and splutter. I took shelter under a bridge and waited for the cars electrics to dry out. Being without map, compass or provisions, (mobile phones were just the speculation of mad science fiction writers in those days!) I came to the conclusion that my destination was just over the next hill.
After a while there was a tap on the window. There stood a policeman, not just of ordinary English-size, but a giant of a man with a neck wider than the Bristol Channel. In a sing-song South Walien accent he asked if I was lost! I told him that it was my first time in Wales and that I was almost at my destination, a small village beyond Llanelli. With utmost patience he explained that I had over 60 miles to travel and that I’d better be on my way as it would soon be dark!
When I finally arrived in the small village of Pembrey, having taken many wrong turnings in the pitch black night, including a grass-covered sheep track up a hill, I found the house, standing alone on a hill above the village.

Little did I know then, but this was where I’d be married, enjoy holidays with children and a place and people I’d grow to love and cherish, including my wonderful Welsh wife of 36 years, Helen. Not bad for an English youth who once stood ringing a doorbell in a foreign land, dressed in purple jeans, mismatching jumper and untidy hair, on a dark and wet night 41 years ago.

Happy St David’s Day.

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A Wonderful View!

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Fave ViewWhen I am talking to someone new I often wonder what their surroundings look like. When  talking to a friend from Topsham near Exeter yesterday, I knew just what the view from her house looked like. Stupidly I also admitted that it was one of the stock photo’s I carried in case I could think of nothing to write about one morning! Guess what? Yup! My mind is in weekend mode already…

At the bottom of Ailsa and Mark’s tiny street,
is a view that one could never repeat.
It would make such a postcard sublime,
that I had to make one at the time!
It’s got colour,
It’s got a view,
That’s why I’m,
posting it for you!

You know it’s Devon
‘Cos it’s close to Heaven!

Have a wonderful weekend, whatever the view from your doorstep.

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

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‘Cleardy-uppy’ Time!

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Loadall tidyI am constantly being told off by my 3-year-old granddaughter, even when I have her best interests at heart. The other day when I suggested that if she was not careful she might hurt herself on a toy, the retort (with raised eyebrows) was a very sarcastic “Yes Captain!”  Unfortunately her disgust has spread out into the farmyard…

When looking into the Loadall cab,
(after my daily rhyme),
My granddaughter said while shaking her head,
“It’s ‘Cleardy-uppy’ time!”

She made me brush the loader floor,
it was “a disgrace!”
The junk on the dash-board I call my ‘work-hoard’
was totally out of place!

Now the cab is tidy,
nothing on the floor,
no string to hold my trousers up,
or fasten the loose cab door!

I’ve been warned about an inspection, so I must get up to the yard and remove my flask, gloves, high-vis jacket, Gaffer tape, ‘How to Farm’ instruction book, sweet papers and everything else from one mornings work!

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

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Early Morning Spread!

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FertThis morning I’m out of bed at the same time as a proper farmer! James is coming to help spread fertiliser on the wheat. There are two reasons for doing this now: firstly the wheat is desperately in need of food after a mild winter eating up its reserves, and secondly the ground is spongy and we’d not be able to travel without a frost. So here’s hoping we don’t disturb the neighbours…

I’m up before the lark,
outside there’s frost and dark,
fertilizer spreading I will go,
in the hope the crops will grow!
So if you see strange lights,
and suddenly think “Oh Cripes!”
It could be me you know,
definitely not a UFO!

© Baldock Bard 2016
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Canine Hide and Seek!

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HideYesterday afternoon I played hide and seek with my three-year-old grand-daughter. At first it went well, she hid and I attempted to prolong the round by ignoring laughter, visible limbs or appeals for me to ‘do better!’ When it was my turn to hide, in what I considered to be an excellent spot, she chose to get help…

When I hid around the back of the chair,
Grand-daughter never spotted me there,
Despite my legs being in sight,
the corner of the room wasn’t bathed in light!
I watched her pass too and fro,
I was hidden like a pro!
Then she used a cunning plan,
sent the dogs to see where I am.
In an instant they spotted me,
she then claimed a victory!

Grandfather’s tip #328: When playing hide and seek, make sure the dogs are unavailable to help!

© Baldock Bard 2016
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Slippery When Wet!

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SlipperySo the great debate has started, are we in or are we out? To be quite honest I’m bored already by aloof, slippery and untrustworthy politicians telling me what’s best for me. Like all institutions, the EU (or whatever it’s called these days), has good and bad for us all. Unfortunately many trillion more words are about to assault our ears…

Some say “stay in,”
some say “stay out,”
until June 23rd,
they’ll argue and shout.
Have they forgotten,
I think it’s true,
the final decision,
is up to me and you!

With apologies to my international readers for such a local topic, I’ll try my best not to mention it again! Have a peaceful week and ‘nil illegitimi carborundum’ ! 

© Baldock Bard 2016
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No Way!

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No WayWhen were you last affected by stimuli so strong that it left you breathless? Have you ever had such a moment? It could have been a smell, a taste or even a song that takes you back in time…

The other morning, just before dawn, I was cultivating a field called Mullygrubbs next to the road. The radio was playing second fiddle to the throaty exhaust of the large rubber-tracked John Deere tractor as it worked at full power to pull the deep cultivator through the frosty soil.
Suddenly I half-heard a song that I thought I recognised. I turned up the volume and was immediately whisked back to the early Seventies.
The location of the memory, a small market town in Wiltshire where I was in school, doing a paper-round, failing O’Level examinations, working on a building site and cycling around with a transistor radio taped to the handlebars of my bicycle!
However the track played was not an oldie, but a recently released track with a distinctly retro feel that for a 60 yr old farmer, hit the spot better than chocolate, wine gums or even a perfect latte.
By the time the song was over and forgotten memories had been remembered, tears were streaming down this old mans face and the straight lines made by the cultivator had been abandoned.
So if you are travelling along the country road out of Baldock and notice some distinctly wonky cultivation, don’t blame me, just listen to Gilbert O’Sullivan’s latest hit ‘No Way’ and maybe you’ll understand.

With grateful thanks to Gilbert O’Sullivan for making my magic happen! Have a great weekend and I wish you magic moments too.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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Mutterings from the Logpile!

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LogsThe other afternoon the sun shone, there was hardly a cloud to be seen and it didn’t seem like February. However, mindful that the evenings were still drawing in early and that Jack Frost was about, I decided to saw and split some logs for the woodburner. While taking great care not to saw or add any part of me to the pile of logs, I let my mind wander…

If Donald Trump got the hump,
would Hillary Clinton care?
If he were sawing rather than boring,
He’d have sawdust in his hair!

If David Cameron visited Amazon,
and ordered a book from the store,
a European guide for an easier ride,
his renegotiation they’d not ignore!

Onward I sawed without being bored,
practising my ‘Acceptance Speech!’
Ladies and Gents I won’t sit on the fence,
“I think my latest film or book is a peach!”

After a while I broke into a smile,
the trailer-full of logs was done,
put the daydream away said “Now let us pray!”
Time had sped past and was fun!

WARNING: Daydreaming while using any machinery can harm your heath.
You must never daydream and drive. If you feel yourself becoming a Womble, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or Elsa from Frozen, pull over in the next safe place, give yourself a slap and pull yourself together.

© 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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Broken near Baldock!

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SibdiscOn Monday morning there was a frost. This is only the fifth frost we’ve had this year. For the last few weeks I have been attempting to do some cultivating so I can plant Spring crops. Unfortunately not only has the weather contrived to disappoint me but so has a machine…

In with the cultivator in the dark,
gear set to drive rather than park,
floodlights illuminate wherever I go,
Frost is on the ground (they forecast snow!)
Glance over my shoulder somethings wrong,
turn off the radio silence the song,
the serrated discs are not turning round,
soil has built up, made a groove in the ground.
Out with the spud to spade off the earth,
can’t see what’s wrong for what it’s worth,
back to the shed fire up the welder
mend a bracket that I’ll call Imelda!
My welding looks good I want to shout,
get back to the field the frost has come out!
return to the barn feel a little sorrow
put the tractor away try again tomorrow!

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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