Showtime again

Who needs the Alpaca Futurity? This weekend was the first show of the year for us, and indeed France as far as I'm aware. It was hosted at the Parc d' expo penvillers at Quimper
.It was a show only for animals up to two years old so the usual suspects were left behind and we took our four remaining tiddlies from last years crop.
Looking far from resplendent in their debri impregnated fleeces our three huacayas were sure to win the scruffiest alpaca class! Only Cappucino the suri had managed to keep herself presentable for the occasion.
The classes were small so the chances of bagging a rosette were good. Imran and Indiana got a 5th and 2nd.
Cappucino was awarded champion fawn suri and probably our most pleasing result was Izzam who took a 1st place in the junior whites in a split class of twelve,despite being a little sod and refusing to stand still for the judges inspection.

 

Tim Hey did the judging and gave an interesting informal chat to all the entrants after the show.
 This was followed by a buffet dinner and a fashion show in the somewhat unglamorous setting of the adjacent hall used for the show cattle. Linda Hitchcocks alpaca garments were stunning and varied and beautifully presented by the models only marred by the jeering of a small group of inebriated young cattle farmers and the introduction of a cow onto the catwalk.
 Haute Couture Breton Style!!

Back but no black

Oh where have you been my blue eyed son? and where have you been my darling young one ?

Well. Misty mountians and crooked highways didn't feature too strongly, but in a nutshell my wanderings took in Cornwall, Devon, Somerset, London, Leicester and back to Portsmouth.
 And being as I'm a bit of a closet Luddite and not possessing of a hand held blackberry I pod internet thingy, there's been no blog for a month whilst I've been on the road seeking fame and fortune.(neither of which I managed admirably).
So that's my excuse and I've witnesses to prove it.
The reason for my abstinence from poo picking was multi faceted. Firstly,my mission was to seek out and buy two black female alpacas to add to our troop. For too long now we have been sadly lacking in the 'black female' department (ie none) and owning a terrific black male only makes it even more frustrating.
Not too difficult a task you might think.Two alpacas.Female. Solid blue-black. Piece a cake.

Why then did I end up buying one white,one fawn, two browns and a grey!?!
That's nothing like two blacks. Not even close. The colours are all wrong and I seem to have three too many.
I tried, really I did but the quality of blacks I was seeking came at a price and the temptation of a herd dispersal sale of some cracking quality pregnant females won me over and my plan went to pot.
I cautiously informed Jayne of my purchases and after a brief pause with the phone at arms length it was decided I shouldn't do the shopping in future.
One of the girls is almost black,sort of very very very dark brown and another is mated to Popham Equador (black) so we might get lucky with the offspring. I shall collect them at the end of the month and post some pics.
I spent the rest of the first week working at Popham Farm to pay off a previous debt and drinking heavily.

Next stop, London to visit my brother the comedian. No,really he is. Full time stand up,author/script writer.Check him out if you like a laugh,(and who doesn't?) Bit difficult to hang a label on so I've lifted this revue from 'Chortle'


Liam Mullone

“Though he appears distracted and bewildered, absent-mindedly running his hand through his messy hair as he tries to wrap his mind around the stupidities of the world, he’s actually a deceptively sharp operator.
 He tackles topics off the usual comedy palette, whether an obscure fact or a grumpily nihilistic take on the human condition with intelligence and a flick of surrealism. Rather than simply accepting the default comic impression that life is shit, he gives the impression he’s thoroughly researched the idea – both in academic theory and through the unforgiving practice of having lived a bit – before coming to the same, cynical conclusion.
As a former journalist and obituary-writer, he uses language elegantly, making complex ideas accessible yet funny; while his amiably shambolic style, redolent of a befuddled but bright don, is similarly disarming. Rarely does someone who seems so confused prove so incisive.” 
 
Much more eloquently put than I could have done.
Unfortunately being undeniably gifted at his craft leaves him lacking in other areas as is often the case with driven talent.
 Which is where I come in..Commisioned to re-floor all of his flat in Dulwich.
London is a scary place to country bumpkins. Too many people.Too much traffic. A mile trip to the local B&Q takes half a day and god help you if you take a wrong turn. There's no getting back. Your destination slips from view as you get swept along in the maelstrom of angry traffic. Like driftwood in a fast flowing river.

Liam was performing at Winchester one night so I went along with him to watch the show. The trip required the use of the tube, buses and a train all synchronized to hop from one to the other with surprising efficiency considering all the people.I tagged along behind as we rushed around the metropolis with absolutely no idea where we were going next. Finally we boarded the 18.35 for the last leg of the journey and it was crammed with commuters. We walked the length of the train in search of a seat but with no luck.As we walked through each of the carriages it struck me that everyone, almost without exception, were sitting staring into their mobile phones or laptops or I pads seemingly oblivious to their neighbours.Their fingers dancing over keyboards,ears plugged with headphones. Hundreds of people all in a trance.
.All aboard  the zombie express. It sent a chill down my spine.
We settled at the buffet bar, had a standing room only drink and I thanked my lucky stars my life was so different.
It was great to see Liam and George and the twins, Digory and Atticus I hadn't yet seen them and now almost a year old. It would be nice to say they loved their new alpaca cardys made entirely in house from Quelvehin alpacas, but I don't think at eleven months you really give a fig.... but they looked cool anyhow.

After a week of bacon sandwiches the job was done and it was time to move on. Another floor was waiting for me in Rutland and my mum wanted her kitchen moving six inches to the left. (long story)
As Leicestershire is where I grew up there are lots of family and friends and never enough time to go round.
Inevitably there were folk I missed but all the family were visited.
But parents are great aren't they?Great for giving you things. I've come away with clothes, drills, a pushbike and a nice new flatscreen telly.!

Jayne has managed the fort all alone whilst suffering with a cold and chest infection. What a trooper!
Her chic Renault twingo now looks like a landrover and is currently full of hay from ferrying it to the fields. On top of all the extra work she had the unenviable task of putting our dog down at the vets last week. He was 115 years old in dog years and his life had simply run it's course. But it's never easy to make that final decision.

 

We shall miss him. He was the best.             R.I.P. Shaft.

So it's back to the day job,we have four weanlings to halter train for a show in two weeks time.An article to write for LivingFrance magazine.Fence posts to replace and I really must do some logging before it's too late.
And then;; just as I finish this writing I've sold another female on the phone so all that goes on hold. We have a delivery to arrange.! It's all go. I'll soon need a break.

Happy new year

Winter finally has arrived  after weeks of balmy unseasonable warm wet stuff we are now breaking the ice on water butts and crunching through the frost again.
The alpacas have cleaned up well and look all nice and fluffy again apart from the cria whose long fine fleeces seem to hold onto every bit of fallen hay and debris. It's funny but you can always tell the better fleeced cria this time of year. There the ones that look the biggest mess!
Our year has started with quite a dent in the herd as we delivered six girls and a boy to pastures new at the weekend.
It's always a mix of emotions at theese times between a healthy injection to the bank balance and parting with animals you have helped into the world and nurtured along the way.
That's the trouble with alpacas.Too damned adorable!

 Well there they go, all safely installed with a new set of paddock pals.

Best wishes to Gwen & Ginni at Alpagwenn

Come in. It's Christmas.

Oh the joys of rural living.

Our bedroom is a tip! It's a huge room but unlike our two gites (which are beautifully restored and cosy and surely represent good value for money,book now to avoid disappointment,) is in need of a little renovation to say the least.It's the room where everything that doesn't have a place lives.There are piles of stuff. Boxes that haven't been unpacked since we moved here eight years ago. Everything from mattresses to mirrors to car radios to christmas decorations and somewhere in amongst all this is our new house guest.
For some time now I've awoke in the dead of night to scratchings and scrapings and the patter of tiny feet sometimes running overhead inside the sloping section of the ceiling and more recently from the corner of the room that is this pile of stuff.
What could it be? Far too noisy for a mouse. I know the cats outside,and anyway when you switch the lamp on it stops instantly. A rat? possibly, although too horrible too contemplate.
Well yesterday I think I found the clue needed for identification.
We were getting dressed up ready to go to a Christmas dinner and as the wellies didn't really go with the suit  I put on a pair of shoes not often worn to find one of them contained a stash of hazlenuts and acorns!
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Must be. Mustn't it?

joyeux noel

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE

Update

It's official. I've reached middle age. My body no longer can keep up with the demands of the mind..
A couple of weeks ago I was in the third week of an enforced 'do nothing' phase following an operation.
A good time to take our annual weekend away at Pophams in Cornwall, take in a veterinary seminar on alpacas and generally have a jolly good busmans holiday. Or so I thought.
Now I should say that I am a reasonably frequent ferry traveller and have never suffered from seasickness apart from one occasion returning from Ireland in my youth but I had had Guinness for breakfast so really only had myself to blame!
This time it was a day crossing to Plymouth, A calm sea,and we had barely left St Malo port when I realised I had to buy a cabin and lie down.
Jayne and I had just had one of those moments that you have when you've been married too long and had been arguing about where was the best place to sit on the boat.
I chose the bar. She wanted the quiet lounge by the window.
We ended up in the quiet lounge by the window.
So when I made the announcement ten minutes later that I had to leave she left me to it. No doubt thinking I was having a 'mardy' after losing  the seat debate.
I got myself a cabin and spent the next five hours on the toilet floor dying. Being seasick is bad enough but believe you me wretching on a stomach recently patched and stitched was memorable to say the least.
And where was the missus when you really need someone to mop your brow and kiss it better?
Knitting alpaca bootees in the quiet lounge.
The bellyache subsided shortly before docking and a couple of jars of real ale and a chicken piri piri in the evening seemed to make the world right again.
The weekend was great, as it always is.But something wasn't right. Every now and again it was like I was back on the boat and the floor was gently undulating under my feet making me feel dizzy, and a haematoma that had developed above the navel had doubled in size.
Anyway to cut a long medical story short I've had another week in hospital on our return following bad stomach cramps and it is still under investigation with further tests this week.
It would appear I have three different unrelated ailments that have all decided to come at once just to confuse things.
So there you go. It's like buses. Twentyfive years without seeing a doctor and then three come along at once.

vets day at Pophams

It's not all bad though, somewhere inbetween being ill I did manage to get to the movember moustache grand passing out Gala where my moustache was judged to be... not as good as somebody elses. So I didn't win the Mo-bro crown but a few hundred pounds were raised and I'm glad to be rid of it and clean faced again.

the three moustache eers

the band ,who's name I can't remember

A fine drop handlebar effort from Patrick in the background

Lee van Cleef meets Charles Bronson

Apart from that nothing much has happened. I can't remember the last time I was able to pick up poo. Despite her best efforts Jayne is struggling to keep on top of things but understandably weeks of damp and drizzle have left the fields and the alpacas not looking particulaly attractive.My light duties have included cleaning out the workshop,putting up the Christmas tree,lots of hoovering and a half hearted attempt at repairing the washing machine.
Force 10 gales are forecast for Wednesday so we shall batten down the hatches and hopefully a few tons of wet soggy leaves will get blown away a rid us of one big job!

Fluff bundles and the delights of facial hair

Voooom!
"What was that?"
"That was your life mate"
John Cleese 's observations in,and indeed on, the meaning of life, seem to be ringing ever truer.
(or should that be 'ever more true'?) Josh? Anyway
It must be something to do with my advancing years, I just don't know where the time goes.
Any regular readers of alpaca flavoured blogs couldn't have helped but notice the sharp decline in blogging recently. Not only here but throughout the alpacasphere.
Truth is , not much happens this time of year.The cria hopefully have all made it through those crucial first few weeks and are growing on and apart from a few updated pictures of the fluffy bundles not much to report.

Which is probably just as well as it's been all go in other departments. The gites have both been occupied during Toussaint and after.Building and fencing etc.. has kept me busy but unfortunately also taken it's toll on the body and put me back in hospital for a second operation on a third hernia.I had to go back and see 'Jaque le knife' who some of you may remember from Februarys blog.As a result I now have a belly with more holes than swiss cheese and I'm under strict instructions not to do anything, which as you all know is not possible. There's only so much daytime TV you can stomach.!
So I'm lounging around growing a moustache. Yep a great big French moustache. How cool is that? In fact it's about the only body hair I've got left. They do like you nice and smooth in that hospital!
This is exactly the sort of thing you get talked into on a Saturday night at my new favourite bar 'Aux Sabots Rouges' in Guemene after several pints of Guinness. But it's all for a good cause.
I was sworn in, photograph taken clean shaven as of the 1st November, to the Movember team and the judging and gala party is the 3rd of December.
Sponsors are collected throughout November and the proceeds go to Cancer research.
I didn't realise at the time but it is a truely global effort. Even Jenson Button is a team player sporting his new tache for Movember in the formula one on Sunday.If it's good enough for him.....
More details at Movember.com 

I thought I would go for the Paul Teutul Snr look from Orange County Choppers  although to be honest mine's a bit more 70's porn star than hard biker dude at the moment.
Perhaps I'll buy some shades.