Tag Archives: Brook

Just Gone To See A Man About A Dog/Goat!

Nosy Nanny!, Rocking Dog

Nosy Nanny!

As a child, whenever my mum didn’t want us to know where dad was, or simply didn’t have the energy to tell us where dad was, she’d say “He’s gone to see a man about a dog”. On one occasion he really had gone to see a man about a dog, and we ended up with a Golden Labrador that we named Bracken. Another time dad went out and saw a parrot. However, that time he thought better of all the squawking, talking and mayhem, and came home empty handed. I remember that phrase ‘He’s gone to see a man about a dog’ with great affection. I’m sure most of the time dad had gone for a quiet pint, or sought solace in the cellar or garage, where there were the ilicit chocolate stashes.

Yesterday, whilst walking Real Live Rocking Dog I came to the field with a herd of goats, and met their owner. We had a great goat husbandry chat. In half an hour I learnt what they ate, gestation period (6 months), size of litter, common ailments, popularity of goat meat in UK, life expectancy (roughly 30 years), sociability (quite) etc.. I think the large Billy rather thought that RLR Dog was an escaped kid for they made nose to nose contact through the fence. Mmmmm, let me see now, I think I may have found my doggy day care solution! It was all rather endearing, and these local goats are not for a tasty goat stew or milked to produce delicious cheeses. All thirteen of them are one mans beloved pets (together with hens, thirty ducks, two dogs and goodness knows what else). I expect his wife will be known to say “He’s gone to see a man about a goat”!

Not far from the thirteen billy goats gruff exists a field that I only fairly recently discovered. As soon as I set eyes on the brook in the middle of the field I had a real sense of de ja vu. This was the little bit of water that I paddled in, fishing net in hand in the 1960’s as a young child together with my siblings. I remember picnics, other children, sun, strung jam jars and I can even visualise one of the outfits I wore. It was a two piece floral playsuit in psychadelic orange, and I loved it. We had our own name for the brook which sadly has been lost in time, but it was something like sunny brook or buttercup brook. I am so pleased to have rediscovered this pastureland, full of warm summer minnow catching memories.

Autumn really is gathering pace, with leaves falling and flowers in their final ebbing summer crescendo. It is such a wonderful time to be walking, especially with interesting and slightly eccentric conversations with the local goatherd.

Must leave this now, i’ve got to go and see a man about a dog!

13 Billy Goats Gruff!, Rocking Dog

13 Billy Goats Gruff!

Eye Eye!, Rocking Dog

Eye Eye!

Man About A Dog, Rocking Dog

Man About A Dog

Childhood Memories, Rocking Dog

Childhood Memories

Cow Parsley, Rocking Dog

Cow Parsley

Downstream, Rocking Dog

Downstream

First Frost

frozen bird food, rocking dog

Frozen Bird Food

We awoke on Monday morning to the first savage frost of the winter.
Clothed in white, the garden looked spectacularly inviting. The frost stayed all day and reminded me of my favourite childrens’ book The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde. ‘Spring has forgotten this garden,’ they cried, ‘so we will live here all the year round.’ The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down.” Very thankfully the North Wind didn’t visit our garden, so it was quiet and still, sparkling and cold.

Frosted Wreath, Rocking Dog

Frosted Wreath

Frost Clad Catkins, Rocking Dog

Frost Clad Catkins

Brook At Our Garden's End, Rocking Dog

Brook At Our Garden’s End