Life and my blog posts are a bit allotment dominated at present. F said her perfect Saturday is cycling in the morning and allotment in the afternoon. I don't get to go cycling and last Saturday they both went - and got back from cycling so late in the afternoon that we only had an hour or two gardening time.
My HGV (link, link and link) has been given an exterior coat of paint - British Racing Green. The inside, however, is displaying the ravages of the tenants having left it parked full of weeds and collecting rain water while we were away, but it still works and Mr B gave it a new wheel as part of the restoration project. We are hardly the Car SOS team but I'm driving again. I do have some suspicions that the accelerator has been governed; I'm sure we never got out of first gear on Saturday.
 |
NB: my useless secretary can't find the post where Mr B renamed my rusty old sportscar the HGV, but did find the one where I claimed Donkey and called him my Furrari
This is all waffle the main point is that I drove the Head Gardener's Van (with an adapted motorhome conversion) up to the allotment and supervised setting onions in trays of dirt in the greenhouse until I SPOTTED THE FOX!
We need a name for this fox. Where is JayCee when I need her? She is good at naming. Nameless fox mooched about the neighbour's shed then headed south and was gone. I watched from behind a stack of pots in the greenhouse.
Onions dealt with, fox gone, F went out to finish a temporary 'path' and dig up soil revealed by lifting acres of concrete slabs. I followed and tested the new, narrow, walkway. I was sitting in the middle of this narrow safe zone, surrounded by a sea of mud, when Nameless Fox returned carrying something in his mouth.
I crouched. Fox saw me and recoiled.
Oh, scared of ME huh? I sat up tall.
We all stared as fox dug a hole in a newly cultivated plot next door, carefully deposited the bone he was carrying, and then gently filled it in pushing the dirt with his nose. He was about 4 metres away and clearly didn't care that we'd seen where he buried his booty.
PS we've just found an old post that suggests my rusty old sportscar was going to be renamed ATV - they must have tried out a few names en route to a final decision. For newer readers of my blog I might have to link a few key posts that give you some insight into my predilection for speed.
Sorry but I can only dredge up the name Foxy at the moment.. it brings back a memory of Robert Linday's character Wolfie whose girlfriend's mother always misnamed Foxy in the old sitcom Citizen Smith.
ReplyDeleteFoxy it is.
DeleteI don’t know if foxes are native where you live. But here they’re pests.
ReplyDeleteAnd in the past have taken my chickens and a few newborn lambs so I do not like them at all
Along with rabbits they have done so much damage to our native flora and fauna
I’m glad your stood your ground and didnt let that fox intimidate you.
Very native and for the most part very much loved - even though they also steal chickens here. See if you can get an English language version of Sven Nordqvist's book "The Fox Hunt" (ISBN 0-9582598-7-9)) to entertain your grandchildren.
DeleteWell I thought the bit about the HGV was interesting enough, but then you told me you'd seen a FOX.
ReplyDeleteThat is beyond thrilling! We had a fox in the neighbourhood last year, but haven't seen him for several months, more's the pity... Of course he might have got wind of the fact that a big and ferocious wire-haired fox terrier now lives here, and scarpered.
Toodle-oo!
Nobby.
What would you do with the fox Nobby? I reckon this one would possibly be bigger than you. He's ginormous, and well fed, and very well furred. Still to be fair he was a bit nervous of me, so he would definitely run away from a ferocious WFT.
DeleteThe links are very helpful, thank you. You are clearly a cat who likes to live life at speed. Do you wear a safety harness or do you just rely on your natural ability to resist forces?
ReplyDeleteF made me wear a seatbelt in Piraeus, but around home no seatbelt. I have natural cornering ability. (Anyway I can worm my way out of the seatbelt if I really really try).
DeleteAll these vehicles! You're reminding me of people keeping beloved old cars up on blocks! I didn't know foxes buried bones. How tidy of Reynard.
ReplyDeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteWell, that was a lovely ramble through your previous posts and update on where you are at now, vehicle-ways! The HGV is a most important vehicle - let's face it, without HGV's the distribution network collapses! What a treat to have sightings with a fox... were you sure it was a male? Ferdy might be an old-fashioned name for such a fellow, but is still quite appropriate. One could twist it round to Furty (furtive), but by the sounds of it, he wasn't being particularly so! Hugs and whiskeries, YAM-aunty xxx
Certainly without MY HGV the distribution of vegetables along our street would break down. Definitely a Dog Fox. He is very bold and does luge on the plastic sheeting that covers a nearby allotment. Yes luge - like skating along on a teatray on a very smooth surface ('cept he uses the fur on his tummy and scoots himself around using his back feet).
DeleteHari OM
DeleteWell, Tigger, you need to ensure F carries her camera for a 'postcard' of the luging critter!!! Y-axx
Just 2 bits of kit really Moki - the rusty old HGV, and the Donkey. They have had other names along the way but that is where we have ended up. JABBlog did a post on nicknames yesterday, and we get it so completely. Names can 'morph' as a person grows up. Same goes for my speed machines. The motorhome conversion is an old recycling box. Nothing new - I just have to make do with re-purposed...
ReplyDeleteThat container looks very similar to what we use when our recyling gets picked up by the rubbish collectors. I do hope Tigger has been helping to weed though, I'm sure with his paws he could get a great deal done.
ReplyDeleteActually it came all the way from NZ and was indeed a recycling box from 1990's Dunedin
Delete