Well it has happened and the year has turned and we are now at its lowest point. It is February. The weather has been very poor and Douggie has been suffering from a hangover ever since we got back from Dubai. That man keeps on telling me that I was in charge of him but piffle and nonsense is what I say to that. As my loyal readers know it is all about the Eagle and a needy, narcissistic sheep comes in a distinct second. Anyway he is a mean drunk and I wasn’t coming between him and his lil drinkie let me tell you. No sooner do I get settled in but I hear the persistent tinkle that means that Bob the sheep requires some attention. He has heard that there is a Barry the Crocus somewhere out there and he is determined to find him. Heaven help us what Bob wants Bob gets. He is even more egotistical than someone else that lives here (and that is a MAJOR achievement believe me!) but I am apparently banned from mentioning his name but I think we all know who I mean. Yes that man. Whoops that just slipped out. If we end up in the High Court with that nice Mr Windsor you will be required to go for total deniability. Just remember this when the time is right! For the benefit of newer readers in our American and Australian branches we go through this every year. It dates back to the years when that man had window boxes that he kept stuffed full of bulbs and Bob instantly named all Crocuses Barry. Don’t ask why I know it doesn’t make sense but that is Bob for you.
Imagine the scene. It has been cold and wet for the longest time. We are all curled up indoors waiting for something to happen when the bell starts ringing. Bob the sheep with his loyal sidekick Bucky suddenly announces that it is now or never time. Yes Barry hunting can wait no longer. He particularly wants to see a yellow Barry and there is no compromise possible. As you can see Bob knows how to negotiate. In his spare time he acts as a sub for Bob Crowe on the railways. It doesn’t matter that the ground is sodden or that it is very windy, that man has a chest infection and we all have better things to do with our time. Bob wants it and he wants it now.
Off we go. First of all he spots a little white friend. Uncle Brian likes snowdrops he tells me so that is where we are going first. I need a little snack before we get going.
A tasty treat and I know that Paddington would want me to have it he says. Having reduced the snowdrops to a pulp he sets off and wants to see what he can graze on next. Oh look there is a step where we can get up high and survey the scene. It is only later discovered that the step was in fact the local war memorial but we don’t think that the local veterans will mind too much.
Right there in front of them is a lovely little Daff which has just had a good soaking. Come on let’s go says Bob to Bucky. It is nibble time. We are doing this for king and country. As you can tell Bob can be quite gung-ho when he wants to be.
The photo is a bit blurry as a feeding frenzy ensued. Not a pretty sight I can tell you.
Here they are in close up. Well that was nice but it doesn’t get us any closer to Barry says Bob to Bucky. What is over there?
No it can’t be can it? Oh yes it is Bob it is purple Barry. Tuck in Bucky it is Christmas come early for us. A lot of them and nice and juicy. Mmmmmmmm.
Close but no cigar says Bob. I specifically ordered (!) a yellow Crocus and that is what I am going to have otherwise I will have to lodge a complaint with the nearest competent authority. I tell you he is very good at channelling his inner Margo when he needs to.
What is that over there Bucky? Let’s go and see Bob. Ah yes it looks like a little clump of yellow Crocus. Don’t bother Bucky I have taken care of it and there is only one left.
Hardly worth bothering really. Time to go home Bucky. I am a bit full now and need an afternoon nap!
Incredible you couldn’t make it up. Really you couldn’t! This is dedicated to Uncle Dave. He and that man used to go for their own Barry hunting expedition to Kew Gardens every year but it was simply a front for a MASSIVE blow out at the local café involving bucket loads of cream and industrial quantities of tea and hot chocolate. This was all before they had a drink to celebrate the coming of spring. Legless and too full to move before noon. Quite an achievement really but they put in the hours each year to make it happen. It also normally ended up in some ritual humiliation for one or other of them. My favourite was the year when Uncle Dave had reached the age when he could get a senior entry. He went up to pay and asked for a senior entry and tentatively said that he could offer proof of age. The man behind the ticket counter said that wouldn’t be necessary as Dave obviously qualified. He then took one look at that man and simply sold them two senior entry tickets without a flicker of doubt that they both qualified. That mas was about 40 at this point!
Meanwhile in other news we just have to fill you in on another saga. That man started by wanting to grow a full beard. The hipster barber told him that he didn’t think it was going to work. He has decided to concentrate on his tache. He grew it to the extent that with a bit of wax he could have had nice curly ends to it. He was planning on doing his whole Victorian evil villain thing (it is a phase he is going through or at least I hope it is a phase!) but the barber said no. He has cut it off again. Now the hope is a cowboy look or a (young people should look away at this point!) 1970s porn star. I tell you I am surrounded by delusional idiots. Just because he lived through the 1970s does not mean that he can actually emulate the style. Oh dear watch this space for tachewatch! I need a lie down I can tell you. As the song says the only way is up!
Where Eagles fear to flap 