A Day to Remember

Posted on August 28, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday would have been my son David’s 33rd birthday. When he was killed, ten years ago last February, some said, “Time is a great healer“, I only wish it were so.
As the world he knew grows ever-distant, his absence results in an ever greater number of unanswerable questions about how his life would have been. On a mundane level it seems almost unbelievable that he never handled an iPod, let alone a smart phone. He never knew that London was awarded the Olympics or saw their fruition. These are but two, I’m sure that with a little thought one could easily add many more inventions or events that have changed in that short time.
In ten years the world has advanced beyond recognition, yet, as his father, the most striking difference has been his absence.
Most societies acknowledge the role of a mother in grief. In many parts of the world little old ladies wear nothing but black, show public tears and are often seen wailing in grief.
As a father, it is my perceived role to carry the family forward. However, as any grieving father knows, it is often family and close friends that not only carry him, but give him the will just to survive day to day. Pity the grieving father cut off from his kin.
Yesterday, my wife and I hid ourselves away, as we do for all painful anniversaries. The morning was bright and sunny but for all we cared the day could have been night. Without any warning we suddenly had guests. The unexpected appearance of David’s beloved sister and the niece he never knew (yet shows a few of his traits and mannerisms), was beyond description. That it ever happened and wasn’t just part of a wonderful dream or movie still leaves me breathless. Instead of having a day of mourning we had the sort of day that not only David would have truly loved, but a day that fully honoured his memory.
Time may never heal, but family and friends can make life worth living.

© Baldock Bard 2013
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Bank Holiday Weather!

Posted on August 27, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

It has been a terrible Bank Holiday weather-wise. Torrential rain has upset family plans all across the country and made people question why they didn’t just stay at home! For the first time in over six years we had to cancel a boot sale as the rain tipped down on Saturday morning. However some people just made the most of it…

Dear old Bob sits on his own,
Fishing gets him out of home.
Bank Holiday Saturday pouring rain,
Bank Holiday Sunday raining again,
Holiday Monday finally come,
He’s surprised to see the sun!
So he sits at last and gets his wish,
The only thing wet on the river are fish!

The Baldock Boot Sale is open every Saturday at 7am
Twenty-one years and still selling!
FREE parking and entry for all buyers, princesses, dogs and aliens!
www.u-boot.co.uk
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The Proud Indian Runner Mum!

Posted on August 23, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

We have a group of ‘Indian Runner’ ducks, purely ornamental but with great characters. They live on a small pond in the corner of the wood. A few days ago one of them waddled into the farmyard with a surprise…

One Indian Runner,
Five little chicks,
Now under a heat lamp,
(started off as six).
For the last five years,
No chicks have been hatched,
Suddenly late summer,
That record has been scratched!
One proud mother,
Of whom we’re rather fond,
Will soon take her family swimming,
On the woodland pond!

Ron Middleton and the Harvest Rabbit!

Posted on August 22, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

As I was watching oats into the grain store yesterday, I was joined by an old friend. Mick and I go back over thirty years, and as happens when two old farts get together, we reminisced. Years ago the combine harvesters were smaller, harvest was a more drawn-out affair and the fields were alive with rabbits. We spoke of dear old Ron Middleton, and how during harvest he used to walk alongside the combine hoping to bag a rabbit or two for the pot…

Like a slightly arthritic,
Elma Fudd,
Ron walks beside the combine,
Waiting for a rabbit,
To show itself.
Tommy,
(Who used to drive the harvester),
Toots his horn,
To announce a sighting.
Ron steadies himself,
Raises the shotgun in anticipation,
And slides the safety catch to ‘off’.
The rabbit shows itself,
In front of the hungry machine,
Hoppity hoppity hop!
Bang!
Bang!
The rabbit looks around,
Its ears erect,
Dirt,
Straw and chaff,
Spray the area.
With resignation,
And a shrug of its rabbit shoulder,
The rabbit vanishes into the hedge!
For the next five minutes,
Old Ron,
Searches the long grass,
For a result,
That never was!
On the far side of the hedge,
The rabbit,
Unaware if this frantic activity,
Is on its way home,
For tea!
Hoppity hoppity hop!

How to Handle the Stress of World Markets!

Posted on August 21, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Every profession has its stress-points and problems, particularly in these uncertain times. Farming is no different. The price of grain rises and falls like the tide. News of French and Baltic wheat arriving at UK ports is enough to instantly remove £3/tonne from the wheat price. Likewise rumours of not enough rain in the Midwest of the US or extra demand from the Chinese can counteract this fall by the end of the trading day! Add to that the fact that we are harvesting crops planned in June 2012 and planted last September. The effects of the weather and idiot politicians since then play a part, and it becomes clear why there are so many anxious farmers at this time of year! However amid the dust and uncertainty of harvest appears something that, for me, immediately puts it all into context…

Some things in life are a nuisance,
Some things in life are a pain!
but none can be bettered,
Than a grandchild unfettered,
Sitting on a large heap of grain!
© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above  

Eating Dust!

Posted on August 20, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I decided to harvest wheat rather than oats, the positioning of the fields made it easier. However I hadn’t reckoned on there being quite so much dust. So now we are racing through the wheat (as much as I can see through the clouds of dust!). I am not complaining as harvest is just the most wonderful time on a farm (when it’s going well!)…
I’ve been working all day in the dust,
My job description says I must!
If I were Andean I’d eat llama,
But here it’s dust because I’m a farmer!
Everyone else has air conditioning,
I don’t have it because of my positioning!
I’m in the store shovelling wheat,
And dust is all I have to eat!
So every trailer load I see,
Brings more dust just for me!
© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above  

The Start of Harvest?

Posted on August 19, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

The weather forecast is good and the crops are ripe. Despite the usual last-minute panic (on my part), it looks like there is a good chance that we’ll start harvesting today. Others have been at it for what seems like ages, however it’s not a race to be won (apart from against the weather!) as different areas have different ripening times. We farm heavy clay soil which retains moisture and so are later harvesters than chalk and sandy soils. So our countdown is nearly over…

We hope to get the combine out,
Later on today,
We’ll all dash around,
Like maniacs at play!
We hope that the sun will shine,
We hope it will be fine,
I think we may cut the oats,
with the green combine!
It happens every year,
We’re lucky in that way,
We can announce:
Harvest starts today!

Alfie and the Journey!

Posted on August 17, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Some dogs are just dogs. Others are like little people in their actions and expressions. Alfie, a friend of the dogs who live with Mrs Bard and I, has two humans. He decides what, where and how they live their lives. Sometimes he thinks, sometimes he sits, but most of the time he sits and thinks…

Alfie won’t get out of the car,
Where’s he going, is it far?
Is he off to visit friends?
That I suppose, somehow depends,
On what he’s planned to do today,
Maybe he just wants to sit that way!
He can’t reach the pedals, can’t reach the wheel,
So where he goes, won’t be real!
So we’ll just leave him, sitting there,
And let him drive, anywhere!

Look, Listen and Learn!

Posted on August 16, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I was taken so far out of my comfort zone that I had to hitch a lift back to reality! I helped a friend put up a marquee (‘Help’ is used in its loosest context here). I had thought that, as a farmer, I could turn my hand to almost anything in a ‘Jack of all trades’ fashion. Well not marquee erecting! I discovered two left hands, two left feet and hearing loss. Even when showed the simplest of tasks, like throwing a weighted bag with a rope attached, I acted like a big girly and the rope went in the wrong direction! It was an object lesson in look, listen and learn…

Noah has his Eighteenth,
I hope it doesn’t rain,
My construction skills are useless,
An Ark is beyond my brain!

A trailer full of pieces,
Looked easy I confess!
Erecting a marquee,
More skill than I possess!

Far out of my comfort zone,
Wearing two left feet,
When I couldn’t throw a rope,
Humiliation was complete!

And when I had been shown,
How things should be done,
My inexperience let me down,
I wasn’t having fun!

Now marquee stands erected,
In the corner of the park,
I pray it doesn’t rain,
I can’t find that last Aardvark!
Robert and his marquees can be found at the finest functions in Hertfordshire. Noah and his friends will be found on Saturday night in the marquee celebrating his birthday, ‘A’ Level results and a marquee erecting NVQ! The Bard will be practicing his throwing!

The Curse of the Cones!

Posted on August 15, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Driving down to Baldock yesterday evening I just happened to look along the usually-empty A505 Royston road. One section of the dual-carriageway was coned off and the other was at a standstill. As it was after 5pm I was not surprised to see so much inactivity on the closed off section. I inadvertently became an irritant to the stationary motorists below me by gongoozling from the bridge. Notch up another victory over common sense for ‘Elf and Safety…

Miles and miles of bloody cones!
Everyone’s on their mobile phones,
“Don’t know when we’ll be home for tea,
It’s not my fault, no don’t blame me!”
Where is the workforce to be protected?
Yellow fluorescent, hard hats selected!
Where are the lorries carrying the load?
Where are the machines mending the road?
Where are the managers who on site roam?
It’s five o’clock, everyone’s gone home!
Where is the motorist who frowns as he groans?
Still stuck in the queue looking at cones!
© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above  