It's all looking very much like a scene from one of those 1970 disaster movies.
The field is sodden.Everywhere is flooding and I must look like a butch Shelley Winters in my delightfully masculine plastic waterproof pantaloons!
Great pools of water lie on the surface of the
grass sorry mud, and several of the coops in the Ukrainian village ( sorry Ukrainian "willage") are lying on unsuitably waterlogged marshland.
|The Field at Dawn this morning|
I moved two houses to more suitable positions yesterday and am about to brave the Somme-like conditions to shift a couple more before I make the menfolk their breakfasts.(visions of Doris Day anyone?)
The birds won't be let out for a while this morning...around 7am I heard the gate clatter in it's lock and looked out of the window to see a huge dog fox standing in the mid ground, just beyond the stone wall.
He had jumped the gate!
That was one big bugger I can tell you.
I "hissed" at him and he fled before the ewes stomped their way into viewAnother threat to add to mother nature's brickbats