Pepito goes to work

No. Not the title of my latest unpublished children's book; my soon-to-be-published post on our not very hard working working horse.

Besides turning acres of pasture into wheelbarrows of manure, Pepito has recently started proper work. First he pulled a tree out of the woods (that I'd failed to cut down successfully). Then he did some harrowing practice on what was the old pigs' last field.

Here's me having a go:


And here's Her Outdoors (note the look of concentration on the face - and the lack of gloves - she's hard, she is):

Back on the farm, a while back

Pepito ran away a few times. Which meant the fence became Priority Numero Uno for a while. The ground was perfect for these posts and it was a joy to swing a sledgehammer again.


Coming soon, our first attempt at post-and-rail.

We also ate our first wild mushrooms. We didn’t do this stupidly, but bought a comprehensive book on the subject and had them checked by the local pharmacist (a service provided free around these parts). Cooking and eating them was still pretty unnerving, although bluddie delicious.


Here's a mushroom we didn’t try, although I think you’ll agree it’s pretty wild in its own way.

Ahhh - the romance of it.

I just bought Her Outdoors a necklace.


For Pepito. Obviously.

No more single-handed gags

INT. HOME - DAY

FRONT DOOR OPENS AND CLARE ENTERS.

SHE: Do you want the good news or the bad news?

ME: The bad news.

SHE: I've stabbed myself with a screwdriver and I'll probably be out of action for a couple of weeks.

ME: And the good news?

SHE: We need to move Pepito immediately. The lower half of his field is flooded. Actually, it's more like a river.

ME: (GLAD I DIDN'T ASK FOR THE GOOD NEWS FIRST) Lunch is ready in ten minutes.

After looking up some new vocab (thumb muscle, screwdriver, stab, tetanus), and a relatively quick trip to "Urgences" in Bergerac, the river in Pepito's field has subsided and slowed and we are both looking forward to different types of single-handed work over the next couple of weeks.

Starting with... more fencing.

The last post - and 6,997 other words

If someone I once worked with is to be believed, this post is worth 1,000 words:


Biographical detail that might be useful: This is the last post of the orchard/chicken run enclosure, featuring some of the equipment needed for The Sport of Fencing. (Note the use of cheat boards to add stability to the ladder.)

Here are the other posts:


But fencing doesn't stop there. Oh no. Next you need to add leaners to your corner posts. They look like this (which you will find in the Rule Book):


Many years ago, on The Big Breakfast (when breakfast TV was worth waking up for), Richard Bacon introduced the weather like this: "It's a great day if you're an otter - or you collect water".

I am absolutely, totally, deliriously happy to show you the water I collected in the last couple of days:


It's not for me. It's for Pepito, who arrived today:


And after a few words from Philippe:


Went to find his corner of a field:


What you might call a happy beginning.

Pepito joins the family

We bought a horse yesterday. He's 15. He has years of experience pulling gypsy caravans. And carriages for weddings. (Should have no difficulty bringing suitcases from the car park to the guest yurts.) He's very gentle. And beautiful. And called Pepito.

This is not a picture of him.


Nor is this.


At least, not in the foreground. These are the horses Pepito is currently sharing a field with. They're a bit young and feisty for our needs.

This is Pepito.


More on him, later.

The (not entirely unexpected) coincidence of a man and a workhorse

If you’ve been following this blog lately, you’ll know we’ve been looking for a tractor.

Not just any tractor. That would be easy.

We’ve been looking for an achingly cute antique (red) tractor that can cut grass, drag fallen trees, and (eventually) transport guests’ suitcases from their car to their yurt.

And we’ve failed.

True, we’ve been offered an excellent John Deere. We’ve answered a few classified ads for 1950s Masseys. We’ve been to the tractor garage a few kilometres (couple of miles) away. Twice. But they all wanted more euros than we were happy to part with.

If you know anything about coincidences, you’ll know that if they’re not happening, something needs to change.

So we changed our minds - and returned to another of Clare’s ideas that I dismissed early on (I really must stop doing that). It's an idea called horse.

Here are a few of the advantages of horse over tractor (in alphabetical order, for no apparent reason):
Cheaper
Friendlier
More sustainable
Produces emissions we can actually use
Quieter
Safer

Besides, what could be cuter than arriving on holiday and watching a horse clomping up the drive to collect your stuff?

Having made up our minds, I just asked a man about a horse. A man who runs the Pony Club where Clare and the daughter have their lessons (see below - "on riding" which, in retrospect, should have been called "on horseback").

Coincidentally (other than knowing the previous owner of our land), this man has several horses that are suitable, for sale, five years old, with years of experience towing gypsy caravans. For 500 euros less than our tractor budget.

Which might be enough to buy the cart.

There's one for sale in this week's free paper.

But I'm not sure we should be getting the cart before the horse.