My walks seem to get longer and longer. Today’s began at 1.30 and went on until after 6. It took me across a field with a herd of black cows in a far corner. When they saw me they came trotting over rather speedily. I was faintly apprehensive but kept walking. They fell into a kind of wedge-shaped phalanx behind me, moving at the same speed. I began to enjoy this, wondering if there was a vacancy for a bovine version of the Pied Piper, or maybe Hannibal. “Come on chaps - sorry, girls - quick march” I called, looking to my left and right. They were reluctant to bid farewell, even when I had passed through the gate into the wood.
At the other end of the wood, a pre-arranged meeting with Clun Castle (or 7029 to you.) Right on time. Shame she was going backwards, but you can’t have everything.
Received an SMS message from a local farmer. ‘Are you walking this way today? There is venison.’ I replied that I definitely could and would. Forty minutes later I picked up a bag containing a 2.5kg leg and 750gm of fillet. ‘Shot there’, he said, pointing into the field beyond the hedge.
As I struggled up the hill with my booty I thought how smart the fiefdom looked in the afternoon sunshine. Probably because the semi-dereliction of the Towers is masked by the trees centre-right.
Gave Cook the venison, opened a Rochefort and pondered life’s most pressing question - namely, Chocolate Block or Mégaphone with dinner tonight? Realised my life is good. Then my inner pessimist took over and asked me who or what was going to bugger it up.
