Footpaths – A National Treasure

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Rambling OnThis week while driving around the farm I came across a group of ramblers on one of my grass fields. Rather than acting like Farmer Palmer from the Viz comic (Farmer Palmer says ‘Git Orf My Effin Land!’), I stopped and passed the time of day with them. It is great to share what I see every day…

They’re strolling in the sun across my field,
It’s only grass, won’t lose any yield,
It’s such fun when you share with a crowd,
To see other’s enjoyment makes you so proud.

They’re using my workplace for recreation,
On a series of footpaths that link up the nation,
It’s a very good way, of watching health and your weight,
I’m sure into Britain it helps put the Great!

Dedivated to all those who work behind the scenes to ensure the continuation of this National Treasure.

© Baldock Bard 2015
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The Pavement Tables!

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Pavement TablesHere in North Hertfordshire summer has arrived early. Yesterday’s temperature reached 24 degrees and Baldockonians are making the most of the sunshine to act like continentals, while some ‘tut-tut’ at this frivolous exhibitionism…

Summer’s here, not far from home,
Pavement tables just like Rome!
Friends have gathered, ignore the traffic,
A wonderful scene, so photographic!
Elder residents have been known to say,
“Wouldn’t have happened in our day!
Do they think it’s an esplanade?
What with all that skin displayed!”
No-one’s had to take a plane,
We’re in Baldock, warmer than Spain!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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A Happy Squirrel Moment!

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ChocolateYesterday I had the sort of real treat that a squirrel would understand well – I discovered a hidden bar of chocolate I’d forgotten about. Unfortunately once open it evaporated…

There’s one thing,
A chocolate lover knows,
Is where to find,
A fix in Waitrose!

For me there’s only,
One to choose,
It’s rich and milky,
Silky smooth.

However a warning,
In your ear,
Once it’s opened,
It’ll disappear!

So just be warned,
Hide it well,
Or you’ll descend,
Into ‘No-Chocolate-Hell’

© Baldock Bard 2015
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The Lie-in!

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The Lie-inI realise it is just plain cruel to talk about weekend lie-ins on a Monday morning. You’re commuting into work, packed into the train like sardines and I remind you of that lazy Sunday morning following the rugby. Foot warming provided by your faithful hound…

Here I lie at the bottom of the bed,
Using your feet to rest my head,
Don’t you dare think of rising soon,
With your post-rugby hangover you look like a baboon!
That presentation due for work tomorrow,
Won’t bring reward only sorrow,
So if I may make a reasonable suggestion,
Call in sick and blame congestion!

Wishing you all a Happy Monday, I hope your day brings joy and happiness. If the boss asks where the presentation is, please don’t blame me, I’m in enough trouble already without your reminder!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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Sheep By Proxy!

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DCIM101MEDIAThis week over one hundred wooly-coated grass-eaters arrived on the farm. They look wonderful in the parkland by the wood. However I am bathing in reflective glory as they aren’t mine! I have no worries about foot rot, fluke worm or bloat, to me they are simply attractive wallpaper! All I need to do is occasionally count them but I never seem to get past thirty before I need a nap…

The very best sheep,
Are those you don’t own,
But graze the grass,
Outside your home!
Their sing-song ‘baas’,
From behind the fence,
Aesthetically pleasing,
Doesn’t cause offence!
A simple wave,
To their Landrovered owner,
“Any problems,
Of course I will phone-yer!”
So I’ve sheep by proxy,
Reflected glory,
Without the work,
Or anything gory!
So if you notice,
I’m carrying a crook,
It’s just because,
Its the seasonal look!
When they leave,
I may just pine,
But with relief,
That they’re not mine!

With thanks to Rob for the wooly wallpaper!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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The Journey to Work!

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CommuterThere was a time when it was forecast that computers would spell the end of commuters! Judging by the daily stampede for the station, the prediction was wrong. Many people I know commute every day into the Capital, many like me walk a few yards to work. Sometimes the different tribes look at each other across the fence…

Packed into the carriage like sardines,
Off to the city they go,
Each commuter an island,
As they rattle too and fro!

Old Bill drives his tractor,
Practicing his craft,
Muttering to himself every day:
“And they thinks I is daft!”

Have a good day, wherever you are and however you got there!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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E-mail: baldockbard@u-boot.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11th 2015

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Cardboard – A Sign Of Weakness!

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cardboardWhile filling our recycling bin with all the recyclable detritus of our everyday life, I swore at the volume of cardboard. It was then that I realized that much of it was as direct a result of ‘Grandchild Spoiling’. I must rein myself in…

I wish that I made cardboard,
To package all the toys,
Some would be for girls,
and some would be for boys.
And at the end of the day,
I’d fill my wheely bin,
And see the cardboard used again,
To package everything!

The bin is never big enough,
To hold all I’ve acquired,
So I have to cram it in,
Which makes me very tired!
I have a simple solution,
I’ll practice it next week,
I shall resist the purchase,
(unless I’m feeling weak!)

© Baldock Bard 2015
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The Baldock Boot Sale
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Feeding The Fire!

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Hycrack3Yesterday I chopped some wood for the farmhouse wood burner. It was neither stressful nor did it carry much sense of achievement. The axe stayed firmly in my imagination along with a woodsman from many years ago…

The woodsman goes into the forest,
Axe slung over his shoulder.
His wife dressed in hessian,
Clutching a babe-in-arms,
Waves from the woodland cottage door,
A wisp of smoke escapes from the chimney.
They are almost out of logs.
He fells the tree with mighty swings of the axe,
By nightfall he wearily carries home an armful of warmth for his family,
Job done.

Hycrack 1The woodshed is almost empty,
I fetch the JCB tractor from the barn and attach the log splitter.
The large bucket is attached to the JCB Loadall.
Sections of matured tree trunk are bought into the barn (it’s raining!).
No sweat will be needed here, the machine never grunts!
Within the hour over a ton of logs are in the bucket.
A slight sweat is raised when throwing logs into the woodshed,
Job done.
Hycrack2…Which would you prefer: The pastoral or the modern?

The Hycrack log splitter can be seen in action on Youtube www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFQMIu63efo

© Baldock Bard 2015
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E-mail: baldockbard@u-boot.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11th 2015

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Post Christmas Postures!

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Christmas refuseYesterday, I sat down in front of traditional Christmas TV fare and looked around. A large bin bag of used wrapping paper lay abandoned in the corner. This bag, which looked like the result of a strike by Venetian dustmen (an unknown dog had ‘marked’ the bag), was all that was left of the pile of under-tree presents. I looked around at the slumbering forms, comatose by turkey, and realized that the percentage of post-celebration vacuum would be in direct proportion to the fun experienced…

A bin bag of scrunched wrapping paper
Abandoned outside the door,
An escapee Brussels Sprout,
By the sink upon the floor!

A platoon of empty bottles,
Standing silent two abreast,
The remains of a full-breasted bird,
A tinfoil blanket is best!

Presents have scattered widely,
From underneath the tree.
Along with their new owners,
Some now back in Battersea!

The echo of raised voices,
Excited chatter filled the hall,
“Hello darling, nice to see!”
(Some didn’t mean to say it at all!)

In the next few weeks from Christmas,
Out will go the trees,
All that will remain of the holidays,
Are some wonderful memories!

© Baldock Bard 2014
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The Christmas Haircut!

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The Christmas HaircutOur neighbour, Laura, a very talented hairdresser (The Loft, Hitchin), arrived yesterday afternoon to do Mrs Bard’s hair. What I didn’t expect were the appearance of ropes, shackles and leg-irons! I was tied to a chair as she bravely attacked my hair! I fought back with Green Coke and Dairylea Dunkers…

The lovely Laura cut my hair,
On her day off, it wasn’t fair,
For her to trim an aged Plunker,
While I was munching a Dairylea Dunker!

Now I never look at my face,
So my hair remains a disgrace,
However she took it all in her stride,
And now I look like a blushing bride!

…Ok! That last bit is a lie, it looks much better than it has done for ages apparently!
Many thanks to Laura, a Snipping Superstar.

© Baldock Bard 2014
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Twitter: @baldockbard
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