The chooks are also now in residence. If you have really good eyesight, you may be able to make out the aerial on top (kind of mid-way) of Cluckberry Mansions in the photo (courtesy of Graham in one of his whimsical moods – and I have heard tell that there may be a satellite dish in the making also – strewth!). The chickens had the luxury of being driven back to Woolsery in my newly purchased car upon the lap of Olivia, who had voiced concern at them having to be stashed in the boot – poor things. However, with them in their box on her lap, she admirably, and heroically - with defiance in her eyes - took the advantage of using the ‘I will open the box and let slip the chickens of chaos, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?’ threat when Jon proceeded to sing one of his many 'home-made' poultry-related songs as he drove along. With the ensuing cacophony, one felt that one had been spirited on to a coach of over-zealous football fans on their return journey after a successful match, but without the swearing and empty beer cans. Goodness alone knows what the poor poultry were thinking. Anyway, poor Olivia’s brave attempt at halting this revelry was thwarted, as her bluff was called, and Jon carried on in his merry way, whilst the chickens stayed safely in their cardboard surroundings for the long journey home around the, by now, dark, sunken lanes of Devon.
That was Wednesday evening of last week, and we all know what occurred the following evening when my poor car ended up facing the wrong way across the middle and third lanes of the M25, with her boot and bonnet mangled after courageously saving our lives. Thank goodness Olivia had already been dropped off at Portsmouth. We were on our way to see Shosh and Gav and our thanks go to them for picking us up from the hospital and ferrying us around. It must have been awful for both girls, but they coped with it magnificently - bless 'em.
We still had things to sort out to do with the accident on Friday, so we stayed put in our Travelodge and kept our appointment with our good friend, Paul (aka Mr. Biffo) Rose. He is such a lovely chap. Jon and he had some business to discuss (gosh that sounds clandestine) and so we arranged to meet him at our board and lodgings in Hatfield. Good old Shosh and Gav came to the rescue again as poor Paul couldn't find the Travelodge and had ended up at the local Tesco superstore (on a Friday night too - eek). He had experienced the same problem with his sat nav as we had done, whereby, although the directions stipulated we entered a certain postcode, the machinery would not recognise it. Way-hay, I am glad that happens to someone else too - I was beginning to think we had a naff system (but then again, he could have the same model as me, but we won't go there). However, as daughter and fiancé live in the area, I asked them to 'phone him and give him directions, but they did one better and went to meet him, so he could follow them. I reckon they should get a CFZ award next year for services rendered beyond the call of duty!
As you may know, Paul is joining the expedition to Guyana in South America in November in search of giant anacondas. You may well have seen on Jon’s blog that this is in conjunction with CAPCOM - one of the world's leading developers and publishers of video games. You can read more about it at the dedicated Guyana Expedition blog....
Amongst other things, Paul heard the gory details of what injections he would need and when the evening's discussions had drawn to a close, he went away unconsciously rubbing his arm in anticipation.