bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)
Cool slightly rainy morning, I allowed Rosie to choose our walking route.  She chose a path that led from the old Clitters mine along the valley into the woods, turned into a deerpath and ended abruptly at a truly magnificent Badger Palace with a great many exits, all of which had to be carefully inspected and puffed down, so the badgers knew the Terrible Hound had come upon them and would surely slay them if they only dared to poke a nose above ground*.

There were horseflies and I got bitten twice, so I hauled Rosie away through the bracken in the direction of the road, where we found a deer-track, which sadly was more suitable for her than for me, being designed for people with four feet not two.  But I made my way along it bent double till we got to the road, which was bedecked with nettles and we both got stung.  Then she was cross because I'd made her go through the nettles and planted her feet in the middle of the road and adamantly refused to move, causing two cars to have to sit patiently while I tried to move her, and eventually gave up and had to pick her up bodily to get her out of the way.

She thought this was hilarious and wagged and danced in triumph afterwards, the minx.

Much head-wagging among people I met on my walk about the Terrible Road Closure in the next village, which has cut off one of the bridges that connect Devon to Cornwall.  The signage set up was very minimal, and therefore many people, including caravanners and people driving large lorries, have charged onwards regardless until they actually hit the road closure in the middle of the village, and are left with no option but to try to turn down Under Road (slightly wider than a horse and cart) or do a three point turn and go back whence they came.  If they go down Under Road, they then get taken on an exciting tour of the back lanes and not to any of the other bridges.  This is an excellent source of entertainment and gossip for all who do not need to visit Devon at present.

* a total lie.  I hope she never gets within reach of a badger because she's made of gossamer and sticks and is also a complete coward. 
bunn: (Car)


Although while I was wandering past, the postman came past in his van, so I deduce this may be not so much a complete 20-week road closure, so much as that fine Westcountry tradition, the road sign aimed at People Not Us.   We, the people who live here and are prepared to take a gamble on a small risk of having to reverse for half a mile through the mud, may pass.    Although this isn't going to my village, so this sign actually IS aimed at me, since I am, in this particular context, Not Us.   
bunn: (Logres)
We tried to go to Tavistock on Saturday, but found that someone had driven his van right through a stone wall and clear off the New Bridge at Gunnislake and the bridge was closed. Apparently the driver survived with a broken arm, which given that the Tamar is currently swollen, muscular and angry-looking probably counts as a minor miracle by the God of White Van men.

Read more... )
bunn: (Default)
I posted about transporting Sam the neglected border collie a while ago and I thought you might like to see how he is doing now.

Here is his rehoming record:   http://www.oldies.org.uk/?p=1363 .

The top and bottom pics are of him recently: the rest are the ones I took when I was transporting him back in January.  He's looking slimmer and happier. I do like his ginger eyebrows.

(I have 1001 things to do, and I am avoiding doing all of them for a brief few moments through the medium of this post.  Excellent! )

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