Have you seen the youtube films of her on this blog?

She’s for sale at £42000

call me on 01981500019

or 07780705924

I’m feeling tired and emotional

And I think I need a hug;

I’m another year old, with a streaming cold,

Or is it the millennium bug?

My PC hasn’t fared any better

It’s packed up before the bell.

I forget if I drunk all the bubbly

My memory’s crashed as well.

I’m averse to all the commotion

That’s why I’m staying at home

Iv’e no intention of riding the Wheel

Or visiting Mandelson’s Dome.

I’ll watch the results of the suicide cults

And see how many take measures

To escape the Milennium madness

And all its dubious pleasures.

My sandwhich board is ready

It reads:”The end of the world is nigh”

On the other side is “Happy new Year”

Just in case it’s all a big lie.

This is about as local as it gets, one of my watercolours of the view we get in the morning.

The tall ash creaks in the chill northerly breeze.

Four woodpigeons ride the top branches,

their heads into wind, their feathers ruffed,

Clinging to the yard arm like sailors in a storm.

Underneath, not the crash of ocean waves

but the still green slack of the garden pond;

the only spray, a blue cascading mist of aubretia.

Up there, on the swaying yard, the pirates

ponder rape and pillage and a virgin clover ley.

Driven only by a beady eyed greed, their own

expendability never crosses their tiny bird brains.

Now as the owner of a large house, with a huge heating bill, it is tempting to hope for warmer winters.

The trouble is, with warmer winters has come an increasing frequency of damaging gales.

Quite apart from the damage they do to the roofs here, the real casualties are the veteran trees. I literally dread the aftermath of gales.

Its that time of year now. Fingers crossed it won’t be a bumper year for firewood. One feature of the historical tree planting at Moccas was that there wasn’t much done for a considerable period after the house was built (1785 ish). So the capacity of recent planting to fill the gaps is somewhat limited.

We are often told, no matter how good the photographic light or angle, that our photos sell Moccas Court short. Herbert Ypma of Hip Hotels Guide came closest to capturing it, and in his verbal description painted a truly Jane Austin scene. He did also say that there wasn’t a power cable to be seen for miles. He had obviously missed the cable running in front of the house.

Whether Herbert or my flying activities was the catalyst, I forget, but we buried that cable. It was a risk to life and limb, but worse, risked misrepresenting us. I call that attention to detail!

Storch Over Wales