Tag Archives: life style

2048. Shoo!

(This particular posting was inspired by one particular posting of the brilliant bloggings of Sarah Angleton).

The sensory heritage of the French countryside was recently protected under a new French law. Towns’ people had been moving onto rural lifestyle blocks and suing farmers for animal smells, and animal waste, and mud, and noisy farm machinery, and rooster’s cock-a-doodle-doos at three in the morning. That is why the sensory heritage of the French countryside needed protection. Farms were entitled to continue to smell and make noise and get all grubby. Complaining “townies” would have to bite the bullet.

Beau-Roderick and his partner, Constantia-Belle, were new rural life-stylers.  (One should perhaps have said Constantia-Belle and her partner, Beau-Roderick (in that order) – but Beau-Roderick was the one with the money and Constantia-Belle was happy to sacrifice a little bit of gender equality for a substantial bank account). Anyway – all that is irrelevant. What is relevant is the neighbour’s domestic turkeys that would fly over the fence, peck at Constantia-Belle’s flower garden, and leave squishy green droppings everywhere. All over the lawn. Yuk! It was embarrassing to have friends from town call in for an evening of barbeque and lawn bowls.

Beau-Roderick knew he wasn’t allowed to sue. He had asked the neighbour (nicely) not to let the turkeys fly over the fence. All to no avail. “Just shoo them away. Shoo! Shoo!” said the neighbour.

That wasn’t good enough for Beau-Roderick. He got a gun. The turkeys flew over the fence.  Constantia-Belle was weeding her little flower plot. “Shoo!” she said, “Shoo! Shoo! you horrible critters!”  She waved her arms. Beau-Roderick pulled the trigger.

Oops! It was an accident. Anyway, he was getting sick of her.

1181. Playing chicken

Jane and David had a small lifestyle farm next to a going-nowhere, country road. Chickens would not infrequently get run over while dust-bathing in the unkempt, pot-holed road. One day, their favourite little black hen was run over, leaving seven babies motherless.

Frustrated and angry, Jane and David placed a letter in every neighbour’s mailbox. Can’t you drive with more care? Can’t you slow down? We have chickens that use that road. Our favourite chicken was run over…

“Did you get the complaining letter in your mailbox?” asked Farmer Eric of Farmer Phil.

“Yeah,” said Farmer Phil. “It kind of killed my fun.”

371. The simple life


Isaac and Faith had always wanted to live the simple country life. How lovely to be as self-sufficient as possible.

Imagine! Just a few acres, with some cows for meat and fresh milk. And chickens for fresh eggs. Maybe even some ducks for duck eggs. Aren’t they wonderful when baking? And maybe some sheep for the occasional lamb roast. And then a wonderful vegetable garden for fresh vegetables. Not to mention the fresh air and the lack of rat-race city life.

Isaac and Faith got their opportunity. They purchased twelve acres with a cosy cottage. It was a lifestyle. Away in the country. A dream come true! (Isn’t it lovely to have a positive story for a change?)

Isaac and Faith purchased seven cows, and eleven sheep. They got a dozen chickens and just the four ducks (one was a drake). And the area around the cottage had a huge vegetable garden. And room for flowers. And then there must have been an acre of pine trees. How wonderful for the winter firewood! Oh perfect! Perfect! Perfect little place! And grapes! Did I mention grapes? For making wine?

Oh! And a pig!

Seven cows proved too many for the twelve acres, and so were the eleven sheep and the pig. They had to buy in hay and it wasn’t even winter. Far too much milk. And they had to buy butter and cheese anyway, because they didn’t have the right equipment. The chickens and ducks ate the bought grain like it was going out of fashion. The chainsaw broke down while they were trying to cut firewood, and the vegetable garden was just work work work.

In fact the whole damn thing was just work work work. And it cost the earth to run. Isaac had to find a job in town to get some money coming in. And then Faith took up cleaning in some of the local houses. That took all day, not to mention the cost of running two vehicles. There wasn’t a chance in hell of ever making their own babies.

In fact the whole day every day was spent trying to get money to run the place and they never got a damn thing in return. There was no firewood and they were freezing. The vegetable garden was a mess. Three cows had died, and the vet had cost cost cost. They had to get a couple of sheep killed professionally because they didn’t know how (or like) to do it. The ducks didn’t produce any eggs. The chickens went broody and kept hatching chicks that they couldn’t afford to feed. The freezer was old and the electric bill was astronomical.

What a horrible damn flop of an experience it was. Isaac and Faith put the place up for sale. They couldn’t wait to move back to town.

The little farm was bought by Max and Stacey. Max and Stacey had always wanted to live the simple country life. How lovely to be as self-sufficient as possible.

Imagine! Just a few acres, with some cows for meat and fresh milk. And chickens for fresh eggs. Maybe even some ducks…