Something that I had not encountered before was the depth of connection that people have with places, and this seems to be the case with the Lough, with people popping by and then sharing their story.
I had an unexpected visitor or at least I was not expecting him, turned up about craning in a lodge into a tight spot. He was wearing clogs, what a great idea, and something only a hairdresser would wear in London – real men clearly don’t worry about these things in the Country. Talking about real men Nick now has a man-bag, something my friend Ron used to have in the late 90s and we used to make fun of him. Guess Carlisle is bit different to Brixton.
The crane or “hiab” man was telling me how they used to call the the lake at the centre of the Tranquil Otter, known as the Lough the Lock and once in the long and distant past, when the water froze over they had a party using car headlights and a wind up gramophone. Now we just wind up the MC.
Just saw Sara cleaning the foal Toby’s wound. Poor thing the wound seems to be healing up nicely and was quite deep. Apparently the Vet had to sew up the muscle. Toby the foal is pie bald and quite beautiful. I took a picture of it the other day on my digital camera and showed it to Sara’s daughter and she immediately informed me, this 10 year old super bare back riding child, that the horse was having a wee. I enquired how she knew, “because it has its tail up” in a don’t you know kind of voice. I didn’t know.