In his prime at 6.1kg on the morning of the Dragon weekend, 2009
Sad day yesterday when we had to have Roscoe P. Coltrane put to sleep after a long illness and a rapid decline. He's now at peace under the apple trees with his brother, General Lee and his adopted sister Bonneville Sleep tight gorgeous boy.
Thanks to issue 10 of Sideburn hitting the mat, I've perked up and got on with SB#3. It was another day of doing all the little jobs, the ones that you don't really see. Still, the bike has gone away for the day and I have that feeling of satisfaction, the oily black nails and cut hands that only a day of fettling can provide.
A chance alignment of leave and work areas meant my good mate Jay was down this way recently. The plan had been to ride up in the Black Mountains, but the weather had other plans and minimal visibility meant a run out through the local trails was decided upon instead. This meant I got to show Jay the joys of old bridleways that follow streams and rivers.
The thing about riding with someone else is that you don't mind if you cock stuff up as there's someone there to fix you up if needed. It also means that you spur each other on to try stuff. Jay decided to try the river crossing, and the first run didn't go maybe as well as hoped. Just as well he'd taken his outer layers off so they were dry to put on after.
That was enough for me to have a crack at it, and after following Jay's example and leaving my top and gloves safe and dry I set off. I didn't go down, but did do a big enough dab to get a bootful of water. Ah well. Still a bloody good laugh trying. Jay had a second run and managed it without getting another soaking. It's good to have mates to drag you along. Cheers Jay.
Also known as sissy soft hands! I spent an afternoon up on my friend's farm in Forest of Dean. As part of the visit I took along my axes and saws as I'd offered a while back to fell a dead Bramley apple tree for them. The pigs (Saddlebacks) had been in the area for some time but were now in another field, and the ground had dried enough to be safe underfoot. So there was axe swinging and saw sawing, and after a couple of hours the tree gave a groan and went down. It was quite an easy fell as the ground sloped down and the tree had been dead for some time. As predicted my sissy soft hands which haven't seen manual labour for some time were blistered and raw. Hey ho, they'll callous up again soon. A pint of local Cider was consumed in celebration. Oh and here are some happy pigs