I mean, there's fuck all else to talk about right now. Because of the weather! It's 'The Barren Time' alright. Days are short, hurried and largely just taken up with the usual chores. In fact, it can now be a job in itself to even get all the basic chores done before dark. Today I actually left a small barrow load of shit in the horses pen. Light was going so fast, I'd have been slinging it on the heap in the dark. No point.
And, with the shortening days, we've had the rains ~ naturally. The rains are never far from us here. Not that they've ever particularly effected me, I'm happy to say. The people who built my cottage chose their spot well. The rains come. They pour down from the mountain. They surge down the ditches and swell The Styx far below me.
That, in turn ~ this year at least ~ over spills and floods out the basin of land I sit on the side of. Here's the result. None of the water ye see below has any right being there. All that land I used to traverse in ankle boots. When it's like this? I wouldn't venture out there in rubber boots. Miss a fence and I could vanish into The Styx for ever!
Nigger, bottom right there, would be kicking up water spray on my Home Acre. Cross the deep, dry ditch beneath him and he'd be into Pat's land proper. Over the dark, central band marked by the tree is what I refer to as " The bog ". Pat's lower ground that runs down to The Styx. He used to run his cattle on that. Right now he'd Swim or Wallow them there.
The adjoining part of (part of) Pat's land. Same story. I pursued a rutting Red Stag around the centre right area of this shot, a season or two back. I barely even got the soles of my boots wet. Now? I'd be wading.
Not a complaint. Just wanted to show ye what can happen round here. And I would say 'We're used to it.' Only, we're not. That's to say; I can accept it. Because it doesn't impinge on me. I live up where the shots were taken from. My ground's sodden. Not under feet of water. And, I've only been here less than four years now. I 'know no different'. Likes of Pat, born and bred here, are gutted. They've never known the likes.
Can't help thinking though; If this were england? How long before some well connected shit head Property Developer with friends in the council and the building industry came along and made Pat an offer he'd be stupid to refuse? Then a whole new estate of 'des res' little properties would spring up down there.
And people would buy them. To 'escape to the countryside'. And then the rains would come .....
Cracks me up, a lot of the time, this Dog. He just 'Does Things'. Most often, it's to do with his insinuating nature.
He does very little overtly and in a direct manner. He'd far sooner do anything 'casually'. Like, " Oh! There you are. And here was me, just happening to be sliding my head in here beside ye. Just, err ..... Just looking under this work station, really. By ye left hand. Which doesn't appear, now I actually notice it, to be doing anything much ..... Noticed my ears lately ....? " That's how le Ding will 'ask' for his ears to be fondled. Only, last night, I caught him bang to rights. He'd been laying on my bed ~ for a change. Stove must've gotten so hot he'd decided to forsake that, most favoured of positions. And, there he was. Lounging peacefully.
I'd just got a new DVD and decided to have a crafty look at it. The big screen sparking up, even the introductory credits had no effect on le Dingo. But, as soon as the film started? Simply too much for even him.
He gave up all pretence of disinterest and settled down to 'Watch With Dad' ..... Crazy fucking Dog! :D
Story I heard from Hugh, my Butcher, today .....
So, this old guy came home one night. He's in his eighties. Lives in a cottage much like my own. Isolated as all fuck. No one else around. Only, he has a wife.
But, the wife's away somewhere on this night. so, before going out alone the guy's locked up the property.
Gets home, about 01:00 in the morning. Gets out of the motor. It's a moonless and so pitch black night, just like we've had here, last couple of nights back. Couldn't see his hand in front of his face. And it's about February, so it's fucking Freezing cold out there.
Drops his door keys!
Can't see the ground he's stumbling around on, never mind the fucking keys. Scrabbles about endlessly. Nuff'n!
Nearest neighbour is way away. He'd likely break his neck in a ditch if he tried to grope his way there. If they were in? They might well have took him as an intruder ..... Guy couldn't work out how to use the mobile phone he had. Even if it had any juice. He just took the rare call on it.
He was a bit 'Portly' as well as being in his eighties. While he may have managed to break a small window on his cottage; No way would he be able to pour himself through it and remain in good order on the other side.
Nothing else for it. He got back into his motor and sat there, all night. No keys, remember. So he couldn't start the engine / heater. Couldn't drive back to where he'd been, to ask for help. Just fucking sat there, and half froze to death, till morning.
He spent two weeks in hospital. Recovering from hypothermia.
He'd managed to kick his keys under the motor.
Must be a moral in there, somewhere.
True! We really have had Budapest dropping by! And, at this point, it's customary for me to show ye the little pointer in the map cribbed from my Stat Counter page ..... Only, frankly? I just can't be bollocksed.
PhotoBucket and my own lack of meaningful, on board cropping software means the best I could produce here would be a blurred image. Fuck it. I give up. Been trying for almost an hour and I really have better things to be doing.
But, just so's we can all keep track of my little Country Counter, on the left? Yeppers. I Do have independent confirmation that Hungary has been here ;-)
How to keep Magpies in an aviary.
Please excuse / ignore this one, if ye not interested. I'm prompted to jot it down simply because of the number of people finding their way here, through Google, looking for advice on how to keep magpies. More people keeping them in aviaries the better. They can't do much harm there. They enjoy captivity ~ if treated right. They're interesting and engaging creatures. It's a win, win, win situation.
Ok. Ye want to keep a magpie or two, for what ever reason? Cool. I have done, for some time now. I started off by catching them in a Larsen Trap. and I'd kill the old one, every time I caught a fresh one.
Only, I realised how, once the fresh ones stopped turning up, the last one would live about a week or so, in the decoy cage. As long as I kept it watered and fed it tinned Dog food. Everyone I spoke to echoed similar experiences. Everyone fed their 'Call Birds' tinned food. No one kept their birds long.
Having decided to try and break the mould, first thing I did was start offering my birds a better diet. I gave one a piece of raw, human grade lambs flesh. And that's how I discovered a magpie will exert so much effort on trying to peck a meal out of such flesh, he'll use up the energy he gains from what little he manages to consume. Lumps of flesh are no good. Canned pet food is so full of shit, it's little wonder it kills things that eat it.
So, I started trying my birds on fresh, human grade, minced beef. Straight from the counter of my local butcher. Not 'Pet Mince'. Some shit out of the bin, minced. My birds get top quality minced beef. No added salt or other preservatives. Just dead cow. And started living for months in the Larsen Trap.
But, only months. And it was always a relief to see they'd made it through another night and were still in some sort of condition. But, I did note how their condition declined. Tails got rubbed out. Feathers got shabby. Birds became depressed. They just survived, till it all got too much and they gave up.
It actually rather hurt me that, due to lousy service, I was long promising my oldest captive, " Peck, Peck ", a whole new life. His condition was falling away. Shabbier plumage. Thinner body. Visibly weakening. Poor soul keeled over within about forty eight hours of being released into the new Eight foot long, Four foot wide, six foot high, steel framed aviary I bought for him and his more recently caught neighbour. Damn aviary took so long to get here.
But, his erstwhile mate made it. She watched him go and carried on. And she's still out there, in great condition. She actually managed to injure her own leg, within days. I thought I'd lose her as she had to lay down on landing. But, she pulled through. Her leg mended and now I call her " Peg, Peg ", in memory.
Peggie has a new mate. Glorious male specimen I trapped when he came a calling. He settled down admirably within a week. Peg is now so tame, she comes and sits right up by the door when I come to feed them. I could get her feeding out of my hand with a weeks training. But, I have better things to do with my time. I just drop their handful of minced beef on the floor for them.
The mesh is 1" x 1/2". The frame is steel, because magpies, I've found, will peck, peck at timber. They'd reduce a timber frame to a potential disaster in amazingly little time ~ be warned!
They have the expected few branches and bits of foliage, for their amusement and my eye. Most of all, they have a top corner, sheltered from the prevailing winds and rains, by a pair of perspex sheets. 17" long and 10" high. (I'd now consider that the absolute minimum for a pair. Bigger would be better, by far) Above these corner baffles is a sheet of clear perspex about two feet square. They roost in that corner.
Oh; And they Love a bath. Be sure to provide them with a water bowl they can safely get into and have a good thrash about in. Something like a Dog bowl would do, only it'll need constant refilling in the better weather.
My pair eat 3Ilb of minced beef a week. Attending to them is as much a part of my daily routine as my Dogs and horses. Their aviary cost me about £550, delivered into Eire. I couldn't have had one built for less.
Just some things to consider about these intelligent, interesting and rewarding birds, in captivity. Want to know anything more? Just contact me.
Alright. With respect to those who genuinely are Starving .....
But, I couldn't half do with some munchies! It's the bloody snus, see? Smoking fags is famous for it. People even use it as an excuse not to try and give up. I never have. Because I've never needed an excuse not to try giving up. I just smoked because I liked doing it. And because Not doing it caused me immeasurable misery and stress.
I have one of these 'metabolism's', or what ever it is, see? Eat like a fucking horse and not gain a pound in weight through a year of it. So, I can eat what I like. When I like. Not a cellophane rat in hells chance of me becoming a bloated, ex smoker. Just not an issue, with me.
Nor is it the issue here. I'm just So Fucking Hungry!!! LOL! Christ; I had my usual dinner tonight. Only a few hours ago, in fact! And I started feeling peckish over an hour ago. Now I'm genuinely sitting here, thinking about the Tosco 24 Hour, over in the big town. It'll cost me £30 to get there and back. But, by fuck; There Be Munchies!
02:30. It's getting hard to resist. I could ransack the place for all manner or late night snackettes. Probably find things there I simply can't get locally. Bring in a store of things to attack, when the pangs of appetite attack me. As they will. I had this last night too, but tried to ignore it.
I've actively smoked a fag, before now, just to stave off hunger. Works too. Smoking a fag can be like having a sandwich. Quells the rumblings. Only, while I've just looked and seen I have some baccy stuck away there? I'm simply not interested in it. I'd as soon eat sticks and grass to solve this problem.
Fuck it. 'Saturday Night', isn't it? Taxi's round here tend to work till around 04:00 tonight. I'll see what happens.
Trouble is though; It'll all happen again tomorrow night. And the night after! I'm developing a proper appetite. I'll be needing to eat something before my customary, once a day, late in the day meal next!
Shit. Eggs are good. Scotch Eggs. Very filling. I've been discussing pickling eggs, on Jims lately. All this fucking snus. It's been creeping up on me. A natural level of appetite.
Jesus christ; I'm SO thinking of calling a taxi ....!
Nick and Johnny ~ Strong (Portion) lived up to expectations! Comparable to my, so far, favourite of all time, which is General (Portion).
N&J has a less pronounced tobacco taste. It just lacks a certain 'In Ye Face' quality I find from General. But, so far? General and N&J ~ Strong are Ditch's Top Two! These are the ones I take out with me.Phantom Brown (White Portion) ? Not one I'll be buying again. It's just not for me. It's got a 'Fruity' flavour to it, without the citrus. What it has instead though is the 'Opal Fruit' factor. My mouth was running with saliva. So much so that I felt I was trying to drink this thing!
It also lacked 'Power', for me. Didn't give me that all encompassing 'Tobacconess' that I ~ a strong smoker of forty years now ~ yet require. Fruity tasting. 'Wet' in the mouth. Mild in apparent nicotine rush. For you? Maybe. Not for me. I've given that tub to Dean 'O. He thought it quite ok. We'll see how he gets on.
Now, I actually got called away in the middle of all that. It's been a couple of days since and I've thus got a little bit more experience under my belt ..... Or should I say Lip?! :D
Granit (Maxi Portion) is one I've had a few hits of now. Not sure why they call it 'maxi'. The portion bag's the same as usual. The nico' hit doesn't seem tremendous, to me, either. In fact, this is what I'd currently consider a middle of the road, tobacco tasting snus. I.e It's not got any noticeably added, 'artificial' flavours ~ no citrus or what ever. But it's not strong in what it Does have. And what it does have then is a mild taste of tobacco.
One I'll probably try to keep a tub of around the place though. Could be a better day starter than N&J. It's likely also one I'd offer to a tailor made smoker, as a first try at snus. If they liked the flavour but, perhaps thought a bit more kick might be up their street? Then I feel I'd happily enough let them sample Nick and Johnny (Strong) next.
