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'She may come from farming stock, but this is a country girl who subcribes to Heat magazine instead of Farmer's Weekly...
Posted at 10:10pm Thursday 18th June 2009
The hot weather has been slowly kicking in lately and our woolly friends have been getting a bit hot under the collar.
Posted at 7:07pm Sunday 10th May 2009
If I hear one more thing about swine flu I might lob a packet of bacon at the wall.
Posted at 10:14pm Monday 27th April 2009
If your peaceful Sunday was disturbed by an irate cow in your garage, let me apologise now. It was the result of some cattle herding which went adrift last weekend.
Posted at 4:31pm Tuesday 14th April 2009
In true Easter Monday style, I meandered on down to Lockinge Point to Point this week and I discovered that picnics aren’t what they used to be. They’re better.
Posted at 10:10pm Monday 6th April 2009
I took a trip around rural Essex this weekend and did a spot of roadside farming on the way.
Posted at 9:18am Tuesday 31st March 2009
It’s lambing time across the nation and no where is this more true than in south Oxfordshire.
Posted at 9:02am Monday 23rd March 2009
Woe betide anyone who ever crosses the path of a horny gander, especially at night. Coming face to face with this testosterone-fuelled bird and you may have met your match.
Posted at 11:29am Monday 9th March 2009
Those were the boyfriend’s wise words a few months back . . . and I believed him.
“Write a blog,” he said. “It will be fun.” Those were the boyfriend’s wise words a few months back . . . and I believed him. I still do in a way, the same as I believed him when he told me Jesus’s middle name was Horace. I know; gullible is in the dictionary. But here I am nevertheless, intent on becoming a countryside blogger. It can’t be that hard can it, even for a late starter? Seeing as I hail from a farm deep in the southern Oxfordshire countryside, I thought who better than to supply your weekly online fix of farmyard life. Or something along those lines. This countryside correspondent has farming contacts stretching from West Hagbourne to Wallingford, after all. Please don’t be fooled, lets get this clear from the off. I may come from farming stock, but I'm no farmer, so don’t expect to learn any intelligent facts about rural life. I enjoy the farmyard from the comfort of the sitting room, unless some pigs escape and they need scaring back into their pen. As my parents would happily testify, I like to embrace the countryside by opening windows. I subscribe to Heat magazine and not the Farmer’s Weekly. And my experience of tractors is generally that of being stuck behind one, wanting to ram it off the road. Did I mention I look terrible in wellies? But in my defence, I would add that in my hayday, aged 12, I was an astute rounder-upper of sheep, able to outrun even the most athletic ewe, and also a fine assistant to anyone wanting to artificially inseminate a cow. Keep your comments to yourself. However, my natural ability outdoors was ultimately called into question when, at the wheel of a Land Rover, I mowed down a barbed wire fence and screamed when a herd of cows ran towards me. So, my only other option was a career in journalism.