The blogs are breeding!

Well, guys, this is where a bunch of you came in.....a new day dawning! OK, so that's the moon rising but what's a mere planet/star amongst friends!!

The blogs are breeding! The blogs are breeding! Quick, someone call Bill Oddy and get him over here to hide behind a clump of gorse or something and whisper meaningfully: ‘And here are the new young blogs, taking their first fragile steps into their exciting new world…’ Well, actually, very confident young blogs by the read of it, and very nice to have you all!

Today I lurched out of the house and headed out of Exmoor to visit my psychic. Note to new bloggers: I am not some saddo who can’t make a move without consulting the tarot, but am in the process of writing the autobiography (yes I know!) of a celebrity psychic.

It’s that time of year when all the farmers suddenly gets a move on, hedging and trimming like crazy (give it a few more weeks and it’ll be too late this year). So the moor looked as prim as a Sunday School teacher as I climbed up what we call ‘Partridge Hill’ (due to the inordinate number of partridges there – go figure!) and whistled along the top of the Brendon Hills. It was too misty to see over to the South Wales coastline, as one can do on a clear day – sometimes we can even catch a far-off glimpse of the Brecon Beacons. But I did notice that there are a lot more Exmoor ponies grazing in fields, so it looks as though the new Centre is doing a good job of fostering them out (they make fabulous lawnmowers).

M lives in a picture postcard cottage, all thatched roof and flagstone floors and a fabulous linhay barn. But she had obviously been overindulging her ebay habit since my last visit as the cottage was looking decidedly cramped. She had managed to squeeze a vast and opulent three-piece suite into the hallway – one more suited to Versailles than a cob cottage. The living room now boasts a massive Chinese cupboard – so tall that it had had to be split into two smaller pieces to fit in.

We chewed the fat at the kitchen table over a cappuccino and worked out a few chapters before deciding we needed a breath of fresh air and toddled up the hill to visit the horses. These too have multiplied (rather like the blogs) since I last looked and she now has a beautiful chestnut, a vast shaggy piebald, two donkeys and three Shetland ponies (the last five all rescues). Add on two dogs, two cats and some turtles and it’s a fair old menagerie. The small dog (a Jack Russell) is possibly even more insane than Asbo (my own Parson Jack Russell – real name= Jack). She picked up a stone that she could barely lift and proceeded to wobble around with it, head hanging to one side as she struggled to cart it up into the field. It’s as bonkers as Asbo trying to get through a standard five-bar gate with a branch that’s twice as wide. JRTs – precious little in the common-sense compartment.

Now I’m back. It’s raining and the dusk is approaching – dimpsy as they call it here – and, truth to tell, I’m feeling a bit low. Maybe it’s the dog-days of winter; maybe it’s SAD; maybe it’s not having had any viewings for a fortnight. Another note to new bloggers – the ‘desperate’ in the title of this blog is with reference to our so-far failed attempts at downsizing. Our poor (gorgeous) house is just pug-unlucky – we’ve had a chain collapse, another buyer pull out for reasons of personal insanity (which I can’t go into for fear of libel!) and, to cap it all, we have lost our house-to-be. So forgive me while I indulge in a moment or two of petulance and sheer bad temper and kick the desk. Ah, much better.

In fact I might kick the desk again as I’m also pretty furious at the news that our local cinema might close. ‘Local’ is a little presumptuous as it’s forty minutes’ drive away but it’s one of those lovely old-fashioned ones with just the one screen, popcorn you can afford without a mortgage, and ice-creams in the interval. Indulge me here and spend a moment or two to click on the link to the right of this and add your signature to our on-line petition to SAVE THE TIVOLI!!!

There’s nothing for it but to have a Bridget Jones moment and haul the ice-cream out of the freezer and hope it defrosts in time for me to shovel a ton down before Adrian gets back from picking up James, and gives me one of those Knowing Looks. Still, there is one reason to be cheerful: Life on Mars to look forward to tonight. Mind you I could rename my blog that without any problem – half my neighbours looks as if they have never left the seventies.