P1110070
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
P1110070
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm