Village Tweet - May 2012

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Little Tweeters!

Parallel lives Once upon a time on a small farm near Billingshurst …

B

ill was sitting in the sun reading a book. He was feeling very sad and cross. He’d hurt his back doing a hedging job and it was still very sore. Sally came in from checking the sheep and Bill asked if there was a cup of coffee going. “I’ll get it in a minute,” Sally replied. “I’m making you a sandwich now.” Just as she was finishing, Beth arrived and Sally put the kettle on again. Soon they were all sitting in the watery sun chatting about life and enjoying a cup of coffee. In the Sheep Nursery, The Welsh Witch sniffed her two new baby ewes that had been born in the early dawn that morning. She was very pleased that they were so strong and healthy. Sally and Bill had brought them up and had checked the babies out, and given The Welsh Witch some lovely new food. She really liked being in the Nursery. It was warm and cosy and there was lots of food, twice a day. Dottie the big pig gazed at her not so little piglets running around and jumping about over one another. Some were even scoffing food out of her food bowl, but she didn’t mind too much. She loved them anyway. Dottie lay down beside the ark and enjoyed the sun. Spring couldn’t be too far away. Hens Goldie and Brownie eyed the smaller birds which were trying to thieve their food in the chicken yard. The sun was warm and they’d been scratching about in the dirt. There were a few worms about and other tasty bits and pieces. They did not miss Ashley and Misty but Blackie was all right and Harriet of course was to be respected and allowed to do what she wanted. (Author’s note: You haven’t met Harriet yet. Hers is another tale.) Life was good and they were all content. As the days were drawing out they became more inclined to lay eggs. Jack was in the big house doing the washing. There were always at least two loads and it had to be done every day. Although it wasn’t the most exciting task in the world he took pride in doing it regularly and carefully. Anne was in London working hard. The kids were all at school. Gary was inside working on his computer. And the dogs? Magnus was snoozing on the couch flat on his back with all four feet sticking up in the air.

His paws twitched every so often as if he was trying to run. Bailey was sleeping too, curled up on her blanket but with one eye open. She was watching her Mum who was washing dishes and looking out the window. She was dreaming about the jobs she wanted to do in the garden that day and wondering if the sun would stay out long enough for it to be enjoyable. Suddenly a life and death drama caught Mum’s eye. Jasper the little cat was stretching his paw down the edge of the open drain under the downpipe on the shed. He’d caught a rodent of some kind which had escaped down the drain. He couldn’t reach it. He tried one way and then another, with one paw and then another. He stopped and looked, sat for a bit then tried again. He went as far around as he could and tried putting his paw down again. Mum went outside and moved the downpipe to see if she could see; but it wasn’t visible. She replaced the downpipe and went back inside to make lunch. When she next looked out Jasper had called in reinforcements in the form of the Master Hunter, James Edward. He was trying to hook the rodent out with his much longer paws. He tried and tried. Then he settled back to wait. Jasper of course settled down too but showed his respect by remaining farther back. Half an hour passed and there was no more movement from the drain. Jasper went off to look somewhere else, but James Edward stayed a bit longer. Eventually he too left and came into the house for his lunch. After munching his crunchies, he went back outside and checked the drain again. He stayed for awhile watching and sniffing. The farm settled down for the afternoon, quiet until Sally started the feeding round again and the children came home from school. Just an hour or two in the lives of those who live at the little farm near Billingshurst. Yvonne Fleece

Photo: Grahame Pearson

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