Jenson Buttons career cut short

The youngest fruit of my loins recently passed his driving test and last week got his first 'set of wheels'.
In truth he got everything but the wheels. A friend gave him a car but wanted to keep the alloys for a racing car project he was working on. So Jake became the proud owner of a 1992 Ford Fiesta with no wheels.
A good little car to start off with ,and, despite it being nearly twenty years old quite tidy and only 36000 miles!
Originally a Jersey registered car so I guess it's hard to put mileage on car restricted to 118 sq kilometres.

The new wheels and tyres were sourced from the local scrapyard in Pontivy along with a replacement door handle, petrol cap,wiper blades and seat belt to get it through the C.T. (MOT) New wheel trims and a battery were bought and a few hundred euros later it passed the test.

Here he is last week cleaning his first 'motor'. Aah bless.



However this tale has an unhappy ending I'm afraid. One week into car ownership we had the telephone call all parents dread this afternoon.
"Mum, I've crashed the car"
He,and his two friends in the car were all completely unhurt,thank god, but the car had hit the armco at the slip road to the dual carriageway and was in a bit of a state.
As well as all the panel damage the offside front wheel was flat on the floor and the drive shaft and suspension broken.
There was no way I could retrieve it.
 Ironically the accident happened about half a kilometer from the aforementioned scrapyard and it was them that had to clear the vehicle from the road. It has been declared a write-off and now the scrap yard owner has all his bits back and more.And we have to pay him to take them!
Life dishes out some hard lessons from time to time. My son is gutted to have lost everything so soon,and "at least you weren't hurt" is no consolation to him at the moment.
One other thought. To all you paraskavedekatraphobics out there. Today is Friday the 13th.

Showtime again

The Halle au blé, at Bourges was the venue over the weekend for the Concours International Alpagas. The main event in the alpaca show calender. A 1000km round trip. Nine animals enlisted. A pickup with a dodgy fuel pump and a two horse trailer. It wasn't an ideal scenario!
It was decided we should hire a van.
 After being let down on an animal transporter we settled on a brand new Renault Master, and because of the Easter holidays we were allowed to have it a day earlier which gave us time to install a makeshift division inside and pack all the paraphernalia into it's numerous cubby-holes and pockets.
It was just as well we had the extra day because that's about how long it took to sort it out, and even then we still couldn't comfortably get them all in.So, Blossom and Hannah would have to stay behind. That left a team of roughly half Quelvehin half Popham animals.
Normaly on this trip I would fill up four or five times there and back. So to arrive and still have a quarter tank of fuel was a bonus. These new vans are so quiet and easy to drive I am re thinking our transport requirements.
The show was short of about 40 entries on the day because of Blue Tongue restrictions forbidding any of the Belgium breeders re entry back into Belgium. But still a sizeable show although the Suri turnout was poor.
By the end of the halter classes our collective seven had bagged six first places and one fourth. Our new aquisition Cherokee Snowdrift delighted us by beating a class of eight which included the supreme champion at the Quimper show. What a little darling! But it was only Popham Ambersun Soloman who went on to win a Championship.

the show ring with Canadian judge Kristin Buhrmann

Columbus doing his 'If you touch me I'll sit down and squeal' routine

but winning his class anyway

Atlas loosing out in the black championship to a Lilyfield Jack of spades boy

Soloman wins the fawn championship

The show supreme was won by Frederick Henry with an intermediate white Huacaya male. Artemis du Fontenelle and the reserve went to Nigel and Ginny Cobb's adult white Huacaya male Arunda Lorca.

So that's it for another year as far as the show circuit goes for us. We now need to start preperations for the shearing and fleece evaluation course we holding in two weeks time. B.A.S. judge Jay Holland is doing a presentation and there is much to do.There are still a few places left if anyone is interested please get in touch. More details will be posted soon.

Here come the girls

After a quick dash back to Cornwall on Monday the new girls we bought in February are all now settled in at Quelvehin.

First up is Pretty Suki. 5yrs old. Soft as tripe.Pregnant and due in Sept. Our first ever grey female alpaca.

  

Next,her daughter Cherokee Kaluha, 2yrs old.Our 'almost black'. Very very dark brown.Pregnant and due in August, Nice dense fleece but unfortunately only one back leg.

 

Poachers Moon Bodega. Fawn,5yrs old.Pregnant daughter of Wessex Fantasia and Ambersun Alamo. 

 My favourite. Cherokee Tia Maria 2yr old dark fawn female. A stunning alpaca. Grand daughter of Jolimont Warrior and pregnant to Popham Equador.

And finally,the weanling Cherokee Snowdrift with so much head fluff we have had to cut holes for her eyes today.  A pedigree to die for and not a bad fleece.!

So there you have it .What you might call a mixed bag,and the result of shopping for blacks with no will power.!

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?