For those of you who aren't familiar with the killer cows, it has been an ongoing saga since I abandoned Starbucks and civilisation, for a life in the country [some previous posts: Killer Cows 1, Killer Cows 2, Killer Cows 3]. I mean, once upon a time I was sitting in cafes in London, sipping skinny lattes and quaffing hummous wraps, and then (almost without a by-your-leave) I ended up stood in a field, donning a pair of wellies, with a cow dead-eyeing me. Bad cow.
Pic.No.1. Killers cows are back...... and this time they're maaaaaaad
I digress - back to the recently reappeared cows. Oh yes, those brutal bovines spent last summer and autumn terrorising me and Naughty George. I kid you not, I have lost count of the number of times that I was nearly stampeded to death by a flock of cows. The countryside is a cruel and unforgiving place.
But just before Christmas last year - all of a sudden - all the cows disappeared from their field. It was a wondrous day, even though I did wonder where the bloody hell they had all gone [actually, if you do know where cows disappear to, can you let me know? It's been bugging me. I have some vague notion that they headed South like Geese, but I can't back that up].
But now they are back. Admittedly (as you can see from the photo above), they didn't try to storm me, but don't be lulled into a false sense of security. They are probably a bit stunned from their journey back to the killing field, and it's only a matter of time before they mount an offensive.
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Once back home, I tried to put the cows out of my head, and decided to eat dinner outside with Izzy because it was a lovely warm, spring evening. As I was setting the table, I noticed movement in the corner of my garden.
It was then that I spotted Steve (Izzy's dad) in my back garden looking all shifty.
"Oi!" I cried, "What are you doing?"
"Trying to fix my tent. I haven't got enough room to lay it out at my house," he shouted back.
"Oh ok," I replied, "do you want to stay for dinner? I've got more than enough."
"Yeh, sounds good," he shouted back, even though he was stood next to me by this time.
And so, even though the mysterious re-appearance of the cows had left me a little taken aback, we had a pleasant sun-drenched meal.... it was almost like being on the French Riviera.
P.S. After our meal, Izzy brought out her toy guitar for everyone to play with. It must have been a slight of the hand, but I accidentally captured this footage of Steve jamming. But sssshhhhhh.... don't tell anyone!
Vid.No.1. Steve jamming with a little pink guitar
Oh fabulous singing, the Brummie accent really does it proud :-)
ReplyDeleteFeel free to borrow Sam the Staff at any time to see off the murderous cows, he likes to attack anything that dares glance in his direction (its a survival thing, since he's frequently attacked by freeroaming Brummie dogs of the not-singing kind). In fact, if you could have him for the month of June when we bugger off to Europe, that would be great :-)