This entry may be a little after "the event" known in these parts as "The Lincolnshire Show". I attribute this fact, in part, to my ferret related trauma.
I suppose I should explain the logic behind me even attending such an event, family induced and well, after a couple of sherries one Sunday lunch this welly wearer said yes. And then of course, in true me stylee was far too polite to say actually I'd rather chop off my own foot.
I suppose I should explain the logic behind me even attending such an event, family induced and well, after a couple of sherries one Sunday lunch this welly wearer said yes. And then of course, in true me stylee was far too polite to say actually I'd rather chop off my own foot.
So off I was carted for a day of ponies, puppies and posh people. Ooh yes and some Pimms, that bit was rather nice. Oh yes, and there were the pigs, but of course have always had rather a soft spot for them. Though as a rather rugged farmer pointed out to me "not pets love, top quality sausage that'll be". Was tempted to locate Heather Mills phone number so she could come sort him out, but figured that would be a rather disproportionate punishment for his crime. (For those that don't know this country girl still sticks firmly to her vegetarian sensibilities and is a confirmed tofu muncher). Not wanting to cause a diplomatic incident howvere I instead made some rather vacant comment about "Gosh, that's a lot of sausage" which prompted a chortle from companions at least and a rather proud smile from aforementioned farmer
And what of the ferrets I hear you cry? Yes, sorry, as ever diverted from the original inspiration of my tale.
Anyway, it happened just after a wander through the food area, country girl quite cheery having been plied with Pimms (by some estate agency types keen to discuss the price of agricultural property). Which foodwise had been absorbed only by some Lincolnshire fudge (v nice ta)(but perhaps not the most alcohol absorbing of substances). (Am scene setting here btw)
So stumbling through the food vans we came upon another showring, "ooh look its the ferrets love" was the rather enthusiastic cry from fellow show attender. (Who may have thought I imagined they were guinea pigs - as if, I am a Northerner ta). So enthusistically, (I swear it was the Pimms and the fact of too much sun), I replied "Oh we just must watch , aren't they cute". Er yes I know the use of the word cute was perhaps a bit girly and yes it did prompt raised eyebrows from the rather more serious field sports (if it moves shoot it) audience. In my defence they are just pets where I'm from indeed I believe taht in Stoke its rather more de rigeur to dress your ferret rather than you Bichon Frisee. So watch we did and its truly amazing just how many fake holes ferrets can retrieve fake rabbits from. Indeed they are rather talented in all aspects of climbing, running, diving into things after fake furry things and indeed squeaking (well I think that was the ferrets but may have been the overexcited toddlers nearby)
But then, oh dear, as the annoying bimb I used to work with would shriek "lightbulb moment". I was on a dangerous path for a vegetarian. What the hell next? actually attending a hunt ball without a protest banner? Whats a girl to do in such a case, it was near panic attack time here I tell you??
Well you guessed it, back for more Pimms. Pimms I believe is rather magical. For some a tawny port may be a cure all for me its Pimms. Mmmm Pimms. And on that thought TTFN. Mmmm Pimms.
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