What Do I Know?

Friday Horse Blogging

This beauty lives at the Berkshire College of Agriculture near Burchetts Green.

On Sunday I went to my first dog show. No, not the beauty pageant kind, where pure bred dogs compete to determine which dog is the comeliest, but an obedience trial. It was held on the grounds of the Berkshire College of Agriculture, not too far from here. 

As I drove in, I noticed several pastures with very comely horses. They'd have won, hands down, any beauty pageant held that day. 

There were some nice dogs, too, mostly border collies (about 70% is my guess) and the rest were mostly golden retrievers, with a few others tossed in for variety. 

Skye, taking a break between competing for obedience to catch some flies.

I went to see my Twitter friend, April, compete with her dog Kez. The good news is, they won, which qualified them for Crufts! (They won Crufts twice the last two years, in the young handler's category). Here's her blog post telling all about her competitions lately, including the BCA win.

Kez is a mixed breed, a real stylish girl who prances around the ring like she was born with a ribbon on her collar. Of course, it was my first dog show, so what do I know?

On the way out, I stopped, despite the heat (it must have been 75F!) to snap some photos of the horses, mindful of Friday Horse Blogging. 

Also, I must admit I got a little bit sunburned. Forgot my sunscreen. That'll teach me.

Friday Lamb and Spaniel Blogging

Jess bottle feeds a lamb at her farm in Devon. 

I don't have any fresh photos for Friday Farm Animal Blogging but I did come across this incredibly adorable video today, courtesy of my friend Nancy at Gooddogz training. 

It was posted at this site, which says "Jess is a 10-year-old Springer Spaniel who helps out on the farm. According to her guardian Louise Moorehouse, she's been nursing lambs with a bottle since she was a puppy."

And they're in Devon. Gorgeous, isn't it? Told you so. 

Friday Sheep Blogging

Mum has a lie-in while Baby dines.

Last week we went to Avebury, after visiting Stonehenge (with a stop in Cherhill to see the White Horse). By the time we got to Avebury the sun was shining, and I took full advantage with my Nikon. 

Avebury, the largest stone circle in Europe, is one of several ancient monuments in the area, including Silbury Hill. The village of Avebury lies within the circle, the road zigzaging through the quadrants of the circle. Sheep graze the grass between the stones, alternating among the quadrants, with their droppings ever-present. 

There are always lambs this time of year, though by May they're large enough to be mistaken for full grown sheep. The sheep at Avebury are used to people, so don't usually shy away when you approach with your camera. Still, I try not to bother them too much, approaching from the side and with my gaze fixed on the rock, as if that's why I'm there. 

I think we all know I go to Avebury for the sheep, not the stones. 

Here are more photos, some with the rapeseed fields in the background, a common site in May: 

Rape fields in the distance provide a bit of colour to an otherwise green landscape. 

These two sheep with their mouths open appear to be singing to that lamb.

Number 109 prefers the shade of the stone.

One lone sheep; one lone rock. 

"Baaahhh."

That's all, folks. 

Friday Cow Blogging

Cows at Stonehenge, near the Bronze Age burial mounds

Before I go any further, I should point to this BBC Radio 4 interview that features my hiking group on the programme Ramblings. I'm the second person interviewed by Clare Balding, and I talk about my love of the outdoors and walking, as well as my neverending search for a vacuum cleaner.

Okay. Go listen (it won't be up forever), then come back and admire these cows, who live at Stonehenge near the Bronze Age burial mounds. As you can see, the ever-present rape in the background is bright yellow despite the gloomy weather. A bit of sunshine, in the form of rapeseed flowers, is better than none at all, I always say. (Although I didn't get the chance to expound about my theory of rapeseed sun-replacement when Clare Balding interviewed me; we were too busy talking about vacuum cleaners and toasters.)

Fortunately, when we arrived at Avebury later in the afternoon the sun had come out and I got some really nice sheep photos (check back next week for those!). I've had a houseguest for three weeks, and our final outing was to Stonehenge and Avebury. I figure it's on me to make sure everyone who visits enjoys some of the many ancient monuments this country has to offer.

Not to mention the many fine species of cattle, sheep, and other livestock. 

I really do love the outdoors, as I said in the interview, even when the weather is rotten. And as much as I go on about the rotten weather, I really do love living here. 

Except for the vacuum cleaners. 

More cows:


A mother and her baby 


More young baby cows, just outside the Stonehenge carpark

Friday Sheep Blogging

When we were in Devon a couple of weeks ago I definitely saw more sheep than cows. But I did see this cow embedded in a hedge. At least I think that's what it is. 

When I climbed up the hedge to see what was on the other side, I found, no surprise, a field full of sheep:

I'm pretty sure there are more sheep than people, too, in Devon. My kind of place. 

Friday Sheep Blogging

We saw Number 10 on our walk the other day.

For you Americans, when we say "Number 10" here we mean Number 10, Downing Street, which is where the prime minister lives. (Unless he lives at Number 11.)

(And yes, I know that if you have to explain a joke it's no longer funny. Fortunately this one wasn't that funny to begin with, so no harm done.)

Friday Cow Blogging

Cow lick: Unlike horses, cows just want to love you. With their tongues.

The other day I went on a hike in the Chilterns, near Saunderton and Lacey Green. Toward the end of the walk we saw a sweet cow, standing on the path in front of the gate. He sauntered off as we approached, and then we saw there were several young male cows (technically, they were steers, but who's looking?) in the pasture, on the other side of what would have been a fence if it had been complete. 

(No, I did not have the dog with me, for precisely this reason: so many animals are not properly fenced, and Sparky doesn't share my love for livestock.)

I asked this young cow and his buddies to pose for a few photos, and they obliged (as cows invariably do, unlike sheep).

Such friendly guys, just living the bachelor life on the green pasture. And then one of them, who must have been out sowing wild oats in the next field, snuck up behind us and started licking my friend's sweater, leaving a trace of slobber. She seemed a bit upset by this but I wouldn't have minded. Cow slobber, as I found out, is nothing like dog slobber. 

Sneaky Cow looks back, hurt that we didn't appreciate his impromptu affection.

One of the cows I was photographing seemed to want to smell me, so I put my hand out, and then he wanted to know what I tasted like, so he licked me. And then another wanted to lick me. (If you give a mouse a cookie...or a cow a sniff...) 

Cows have rough tongues, sort of like large, thick cat tongues. None of them showed any teeth, unlike the horses I tried to befriend at the Home of Rest for Horses. (It's no wonder I much prefer cows to horses!)

These guys looked to be less than a year old, not quite full grown, but old enough to be separated from their mums. I haven't seen any spring younguns in the pasture yet; maybe with the late spring their debut has been held up. 

I'll have more photos next week, of some sheep we came across in the same place. They were not quite as friendly as the cows, but then few animals are, I've found. 

Cows just want to love you. All over. With their fat tongues.

The guys were sad to see us leave.

Friday Cow Blogging, Nostalgia Edition

A warm summer day in the Cotswolds and a cow. 

I think I've mentioned before that I'm having trouble getting out to see cows these days, since my dog isn't very cow friendly. But it occurred to me that I've got thousands of unused cow photos, right here on my computer, that will never be seen unless I expose their pixels to the world via Friday Cow Blogging, Nostalgia Edition.

We all like nostalgia, don't we? Otherwise why is the whole world watching Downton Abbey? It's certainly not for the longlived characters. 

I found a batch of cow photos I took during a walk in the Cotswolds, with our previous cow-friendly dog. We walked right through this herd of cows, and she didn't give them a second look. She was good like that.

They lived (I'm pretty sure they don't live anymore, since cows rival Downton Abbey characters for longevity) in a pretty pasture near Minster Lovell, the prettiest spot in the Cotswolds. 

We were following a walk that took us around Minster Lovell and the charming River Windrush, and which ended in cow drama. I wrote about that back then, when the moment was fresh. In all my years rambling around cows, it's the only time I've ever been in a situation that could have earned me the bleeding lead on Radio 4's Six O'Clock News: "Ramblers killed by cows," Eddie Mair would have intoned at the top of the hour. 

Uh oh, I think I've just given Julian Fellowes a plot idea...

Anyway, read about that adventure here, which we survived intact. 

Content cows, sans drama

Looking at the photos of these lovely cows brings back more pleasant memories of that day. It was a particularly hot day in a particularly hot summer. We haven't seen the likes of it since. We're currently shivering in a record cold "Spring". 

And let's not talk about last summer. 

I'd give anything to ramble out amongst those cows, on a warm summer day. Yeah, I'm feeling a bit nostalgic...but not for the drama. 

Friday Cow Blogging

"SPRING! It's SPRING! Dance, everybody!"
 

I think we all know how these cows feel. At least we would if the sun would come out, the rain would stop, and spring would finally arrive.

Lucky cows. 

Friday Duck Porn

Walking by the pond today I noticed a handful of ducks on the mirrored surface. Two were apparently a pair of lovers, engaging in a bit of post-Valentine's amore. 

Here's the female, showing her guy just how hot her duck breasts are.

And he in turn shows her his awesome chest muscles. 

It got a little X-rated after that so we left. I don't think Sparky's old enough to be exposed to hot duck-on-duck action.

Friday Cow Blogging

A Highland cow with some scary horns. 

The white cliffs of Dover Pegwell, near Ramsgate, rise in the distance. 

Lovely ginger-haired Highland cow

When I saw these photos of Highland cows on Twitter I got really excited. Of course I happened to be sitting in a theatre, during the interval of a play, since that's when you check your Twitter feed for any random cows. 

These photos were taken by my young friend April, who lives in Kent with three dogs. I follow her on Twitter because she's working with a reactive dog like Sparky, and despite her age (she's still in her teens), she's done an awesome job with all three. She's even competed at Crufts in Obedience and won! Twice! She's an inspiration to me. I know if she can manage three, surely I can manage one. Right? 

Well, I still haven't managed to teach Sparky not to bark at cows. And that, my friends, is the number one reason why the cow blogging hasn't been occuring more regularly. So, to circle back to those photos in the theatre, when I saw these gorgeous creatures I begged April to let me use them for Friday Cow Blogging. 

These were taken at a country park in Kent, near Ramsgate. Yes, that's the white cliffs of Dover Ramsgate in the background. As April tweeted, her dogs were curious, but not too afraid, despite the large horns! 

Here's her Kez, getting a sniff of the strange creature. 

April has a blog, where she writes about training her dogs. Here's her latest post, about managing a reactive dog. 

This park looks like a lovely place to walk dogs. And a perfect spot for viewing cows. Certainly better than the cramped seats at the theatre...although the play was nice. 

One of these days, I hope to be able to take Sparky a little further afield where we might actually encounter wild life. Meanwhile, thanks to April for sharing her lovely cow photos! 

Not sure I'd want to get that close to those horns...

Update: 

April tweets to say these aren't the cliffs of Dover, but instead Pegwell near Ramsgate. I always thought the all white cliffs were in Dover, but Ramsgate is nearby. 

Friday Sheep Blogging

When we got out of the car at Samphire Hoe, this is one of the sheep that greeted us.
 

To read more about my visit to Samphire Hoe see the previous installment of Friday Cow Blogging.

Friday Cow Blogging

Cows at Samphire Hoe near Dover

(Again, I missed Friday, but remember: Friday is a state of mind.)

Last Saturday I took my daughter and her boyfriend to Dover. Since he especially wanted to see the famed White Cliffs, I searched online for a good viewing spot. Several people mentioned Samphire Hoe, the charmingly named piece of land reclaimed from the sea when the Eurotunnel was dug under the Channel.

 

The construction company needed somewhere to put all the material pulled out of the tunnel, obviously. (Or not so obvious: I never before considered what must have happened to all that dirt.) This spot between Dover and Folkestone fit the bill, and as the land mass grew, it was used to store equipment used in the construction of the tunnel as well. Eventually the spot was turned into a nature reserve. It's still owned by Eurotunnel, but managed together with White Cliffs Countryside Partnership.

It's a wonderful place to visit, perhaps on your way to Dover Castle.

As we drove, the clouds grew thicker and thicker. I had to turn on my fog lamps several times, so I was worried that once we got there we wouldn't be able to see the cliffs. No need to worry; the cliffs are so close even thick fog can't hide them.

The cliff at this spot is called Shakespeare Cliff, which inspired the name for Samphire Hoe: 

During the construction of the Channel Tunnel, the area was known as Shakespeare Cliff Lower Construction Platform. In 1994 a competition was organised by Eurotunnel and the Dover Express to find a new name for the newest part of England which was reclaimed from the sea. Hundreds of entries were received, from which the judges chose Samphire Hoe.

Gillian Janaway came up with the name. Having been an English teacher, she was familiar with Shakespeare’s King Lear.

"There is a cliff whose high and bending head looks fearfully in the confined deep… The crows and choughs that wing the midway air scarce so gross as beetles; halfway down hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!".

At the time that William Shakespeare was writing King Lear he was said to have travelled regularly through Dover. It was his familiarity with the cliffs that may well have inspired his descriptions. To this day the first cliff on the West side of Dover is known as Shakespeare cliff.

Great story, but this post is really about the cows.

When we got to the parking area at Samphire Hoe (after passing under the cliffs through a one-lane tunnel), I immediately noticed sheep on an outcropping, staring at us. (Next week, Friday Sheep Blogging!) But as we walked along the path, I saw evidence of cows:  their poop is much larger than sheep poop. So I was not surprised when we rounded a curve and found a few black cows grazing the grass. When we walked back, they'd moved into an attractive position overlooking the Channel.

Worth waiting until Saturday for, don't you think? 

Friday Turkey Blogging

It's that time of year, when eveyone (everyone in the United States, that is) rushes to select their turkey, wanting to get their shopping settled by the time the big day comes. 

Even though we don't celebrate Thanksgiving here (unless we're invited to a friend's house) we still turn our thoughts toward turkeys sometime around the middle of November. 

In past years I've gone with Kathy, Cicada, Daphne, and Satan—oh wait, that was our meal. I've also made turkey biscuits, for the dog of course. 

Payton, my Thanksgiving adopted turkey

This year, I'm choosing Payton. Just look at him—he's got that certain look in his eye, right? That "I know what you did last night and I'm not telling" look.

I think I'll call him General Payton. 

If you'd like to adopt a turkey, instead of eat one, you can do that through Farm Sanctuary, where your adopted turkey will continue to live, happily dining on whatever they grub up in the dirt. If, like me, you choose not to eat turkey on Thanksgiving (or any day) there are many, many turkey-free recipes on the Web. I have one here, but roam the internet, you'll find something to your taste. This one here might appear on my table this Christmas, if not Thanksgiving.

Just look at that face again—see why, when it comes to vegetarian Thanksgiving, I'm all in.

Friday Cow Blogging

"Hello, can I help you with your online cow-related issues?"

Yes, it's come to this. Due to a lack of sufficiently hardworking cows, willing to work year-round for the low pay few mealy apples I offer here at WDIK Friday Cow Division, I've had to go offshore to find cows to feature on this site. 

But don't worry; I would never outsource this blog to sub-standard, mooing-as-a-second-language bovines. No, indeed. I've managed to find cows from America's leading dairy state, Wisconsin. 

"Hey, you speak the same language!"

And not just any Wisconsin cows, mind you: only the best, most beautiful bovines are included here. These cows are all part of an organic herd, raised on natural grasses and kept healthy without the use of antibiotics and hormones.

No synthetic fertilizers in that pasture, either. 

These photos were taken by Dr Guy Jodarski, staff veterinarian for Organic Valley, who sent the photos to my daughter who then emailed them to me, knowing how much I appreciate good cow photos. 

The green, green grass of...home?

I must say, I've never seen finer looking cows. And that lucious grass they're munching on...if this gets out, some of the local cows are going to wish they were outsourced. 

Peek below for more of Wisconsin's finest organic cows. 

Friday Sheep Blogging

A ewe crops the grass at Avebury on the Autumnal Equinox, oblivious to the celestial significance.

I had houseguests this past week, and so of course I drove them to Avebury and Stonehenge. This time we stopped in Hungerford, where we browsed in some of the antique shops, looking for old stuff, before heading out the A4 to see the really old stuff. 

When we neared the carpark at Avebury, we saw a sign that said the carpark was full. I didn't expect this; I've never been unable to find a parking space in the large National Trust carpark there. As we drove around, hoping to find an unoccupied corner to park in, an older gentleman stopped us, a National Trust volunteer. I asked him what was going on. 

"It's the Autumnal Equinox," he told us. "All the pagans, druids, and goths are here." 

Crap. I just wanted to show my houseguests the rocks, not goth out with the druid drumbeat. 

We spent some time idling while the man told us about off-road parking a ways off, "a quarter hour walk," he promised. I knew better. Brits are famous for underhandedly underestimating distances. I've gone off on wild goose chases before, searching for Robin Hood's sycamore tree on Hadrian's Wall for an hour after being told it was just over the hill. They call 20 mile hikes "walks" or even more deceptively, "rambles". So I didn't want to subject my guests to a long walk when we still had to make it to Stonehenge before sundown. 

Fortunately the druids, who I'd dissed, were a forgiving lot and one of them pulled out just as I was about to give up on the Autumnal Equinox experience at Avebury. I slid my car into the space and we set out to tour the National Trust manor house (a real treat since its refurbishment) and take a peek at the stone circle. 

As always, a flock of sheep were grooming the grass, keeping it trim while offering up copious amounts of fertilizer. I've become adept at dodging sheep droppings, but my guests were a little fazed. Thank goodness we didn't have to suffer that "quarter hour walk"; I'm sure our soles wouldn't have survived, despite pagan interference.

When I was at Avebury earlier in the summer the lambs were still hovering around their mums. But there seemed to be only lone ewes now, like this one munching on autumnal grass. The lambs are probably at Waitrose by now, sadly. 

Next time I go to see ancient stone circles I'll check the calender first. Equinoxes and solstices are no time for non-pagans to venture out to sacred sites, I've decided. 

Friday Cow Blogging

A happy-ending story about a mama cow and the baby who got left behind.

A friend posted this video on Facebook, and at first I refused to watch it. I never watch upsetting videos about animals, knowing how I'll react. But then she reassured me, twice, that the story had a happy ending. 

Since I'm all about happy endings, I clicked. And I'm glad I did. 

This reminds me of another happy ending I saw once. 

This cow, Karma, and her babies were rescued by The Gentle Barn. You can sign up to sponsor one of their rescued animals—I just did. 

Anyone who doubts that cows don't have emotional attachments to their babies needs to come visit my cows. Heck, I'm not even their mum and I get emotionally attached. Did I ever tell you about Socks?

Friday Cow Blogging

Cotswolds cow

I started writing about this cow, and where I found her, but then realized that the Cotswolds deserve their own post. It's an area I'm pretty familiar with, and a very pretty area at that. 

So more on the Cotswolds later. For now, just enjoy the cows, which we found grazing alongside a single track road near Bibury, one of the loveliest stretches of paved road anywhere in the world. 

I am not exaggerating. 

But these cows also deserve their own post, and many superlatives: pretty, lovely, curious (okay, not exactly superlative, but a vital factor in my love for them). And of course they are just downright picturesque. 

Here's more: 

This little guy stood out from the rest, both literally and figuratively. 

This bull looks a lot like the bull that's sometimes in my pasture. I wonder if they're brothers?

I just loved the markings on this little guy. 

Finally, at the inn where we stopped for tea in Bibury, we were greeted with more cows: This painting by Katharine Lightfoot features two lovely bovines. I want it so bad. 

Friday Cow Blogging

Rear view of cows

Caught this photo the other morning when the sun was beaming on the pasture. Days are getting shorter now; most mornings it's dark when I get up. I hate to think of fall, with its short, cool, days, creeping around the corner. 

I love leaving the back door open during the day, even now, when it's a bit too chilly for fresh air. Permanent summer would be fine with me, as long as it involves sunny mornings. 

And the worst thing about fall is, of course, the day the cows leave. For good. 

Friday Sheep Blogging

This lovely ewe and her lambs were at Avebury about four weeks ago when I last did the Stonehenge/Avebury Official Tour, which offers as added attractions thatched roofs, funny British men flirting, and animals of all stripes and colours. 

And this summer, fashionable sheep at Avebury are all wearing blue.

Avebury is just that much more special than Stonehenge, because not only can you see the funny misshapen stones up close and personal but you get to view dodgy sheep. Dodgy as in you must dodge their poo. 

The flirty men were quite special, too, but this is Friday Sheep Blogging, not Friday Bloke Blogging.