It’s good for the Grass!

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

I thought I’d tell you about our grass today. We have several types, but mostly you can divide it into that which Mam picks (or cuts) and brings into us, and that we graze on when we’re out in our run.

We’ve been going out in our run a lot, and it’s been quite hot in the last week or so.

Of course, Mam has been watering the grass with a little pointy spray thing ever since she realised her new grass needed it, back at the end of March. The trouble is, this spray doesn’t reach everywhere, and some of the grass, including the bit where the first veggie patch is going, has sort of lines between it.

The woodpigeons under the pointy spray

Mam said to me it was where the bits that had been laid edge to edge shrank, so now there’s a gap between the edges. I don’t see it myself, but I’m sure she’s right. She has got a plan for it – she will spread soil with grass seed in it where it needs the lines filled in when autumn comes. But that’s a long way away. Mam has plans for everything, as you’ve probably noticed.

Then she got a new water spray thing which she tried out on Friday. It waters everywhere at once, forwards and back again. And the shed roof and the neighbour’s wall… But it works for the whole of our grass and the top of the flowers beyond, which is good.

Saturday it rained nearly all day. Well, showers. Heavy ones.

Anyway, the grass. We eat the new grass. and it’s very nice. That’s ‘very nice’ because it’s not good to seem ungrateful… The bits she cuts for us with her scissors, or just picks and brings in, are much better. They are richer and lusher (and longer). They have flowers on them, the proper grass flowers, still in their long sheath, and those are really yummy.

The old grass at the bottom of the slope in early spring. It has daisies in it now

That grass grows down in the older part of the garden, where it’s damper and shadier. She hoped we’d be able to go and eat it ourselves occasionally, but there are lots of buttercups and daisies as well. I wouldn’t eat those, Mam. I’m not silly. Okay, you can’t guarantee that the others wouldn’t.

But we only get that when we don’t go out. It’s a sort of conundrum. Go out and have quite yummy grass, or stay in and have extra-yummy grass.

Mam’s been reading up on poisonous plants because she was worried Bertie ate horsetail and it poisoned him. There’s lots of horsetail at the bottom of the garden and it turns up pretty well everywhere else, which she pulls out. But she found some growing in one of the places we’d been grazing, so she wondered whether that was why Bertie died. Then she discovered that he would have to have eaten it for several days for it to have started to have an effect. So that can’t have been it.

It’s good, this grass

You know, that’s one of the reasons our Mam is the greatest. She really really tries to do the very best for us, or at least the best she can in the circumstances. When we get out of lockdown, Mam’s hoping to get some other pigs who need a home. I reckon they’ll be very very lucky pigs to join us here.

See you next week, when it’ll be June!

Roscoe xxxx

Change of routine

Waye-aye, Roscoe here again. I suppose I don’t need to say that now, as you’re going to expect me all the time. Oh well, it’s part of my routine, so I’ll stick with it for now.

I don’t like to change my routine. I prefer things to have a nice regular pattern. But things are changing here. Only a bit, but just enough to notice.

First up, Mam wakes up then spends a while doing something in her room before she comes to sort us out. Well, she goes to the room at the other end of the hall, and usually calls in to say ‘good morning’, but then she goes back to her bed. She says it’s not time to get up yet, but the sun’s been up for ages, so why aren’t we?

The sun keeps changing. Not light and dark, and cloud and stuff, but it’s shining in on our runs in the morning. It was shining on Biggles first, but now it shines on us a bit too. Good thing Mam usually remembers to draw the fine curtain across before bedtime, so it’s light without being glaring. When the sun has gone round so it’s not shining on us any more, she usually pushes it back, but that’s not till after run time.

That’s another change: run time. Biggles is always a fuss-pot about being picked up before he’s had a proper wee, and now he’s being extra fussy, so Mam picks up Neville instead. Nev was right surprised at first, but he’s got used to it. Then Mam usually takes Biggles, then me. Then of course, she used to have her breakfast, come back and do Bertie and put Biggles back when she put Bertie down. Now that doesn’t happen, and we’re getting longer and longer runs in the morning. They’re not as much fun without Bertie to explore with. I have no idea what Mam’s doing all this time. But she says we’re finishing very much earlier than we used to, so I suppose she’s just filling in the time, like.

Bertie and me having fun before the runs were built.

The other thing that’s changed is our garden run. This week we’ve had the big panels up with the shades on them. Mam cut the grass with the big orange machine and I thought, uh-oh, no grass. But she left patches surrounded by wooden things, and she put our fence around those. We ate all the grass in one of them, so she put us in the one next to it yesterday. The grass was even longer in that one. I thought these wooden rails were marking out the new vegetable patch. I wonder if she expects us to dig it over as well? But she seems happy enough that we’re mowing it nice and level with the rest of the grass.

The three of us in the space where the veggies are going.

So, that’s what’s happening here. No sign of anyone coming to move into the empty run yet. Apparently nothing will happen till this avirus thing has gone away. And Mam wants it to go away soon so the man can come and decorate the wall behind the shelves, and then she can finish unpacking the boxes in our room.

Life’s so complicated. I hope it settles down again soon.

See you next week

Roscoe xxx

PS Mam said it was George’s anniversary yesterday. Nine years since he went over the Rainbow Bridge. That’s a long time.

We’re in mourning for Seven Weeks

Way-aye, Roscoe here. And it’ll be just me for a while, since Nev and Biggles don’t want to learn to blog. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t get bored with me.

I must never say things seems settled again. There we were, all comfy like, with a nice routine, and then Bertie says “I’m going to stay in my tunnel today.” Then he says “I’m feeling funny.” And Mam takes him to the vet two days in a row, and on the third day he goes over the Rainbow Bridge.

He was only three. Mam says that’s no age at all. She sits with us and tells us things, most of which I don’t understand. I know she’s fretting that she should have realised Bertie was ill sooner, but really, Mam, he wasn’t. Tuesday he was out on the grass with the rest of us, enjoying himself. Wednesday he was a little subdued, but we thought he was just having a tummy upset.

Trouble is, as Auntie Sophie said, he packed an awful lot of character into that little body. Always getting into things he shouldn’t be doing, winding me up so I go with him. I really miss our little excursions down the hallway and into the front room. And everything else we got up to. It wasn’t much fun sitting in among the tents in their storage area yesterday morning, although I suppose I’ll keep doing it, cos it’s nice.

Anyway. Mam says we’ll be in mourning for the next seven weeks, as is right and proper. I’m glad she knows our traditional customs. Seven weeks is the same length of time since we moved in properly, and all Mam’s furniture arrived. It’ll go quick, Mam, don’t you worry.

I wish I could say Bertie will be back with you next week, but he won’t. It’s just me from now on.

Keep safe and don’t go out catching anything.

Love

Roscoe xxxx

roscoe in the hay

Everything seems settled now

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

We were just feeling all settled this week, nice run, a bit of sun so we had some grass time on Saturday… and then Mam goes and puts that sticky stuff behind our ears. It’s meant to get rid of things that make us itch, and it does. The trouble is, she cleans out the whole cage, washes all our lovely cuddly cage wear, and leaves us in the clean run with a handful of hay and just our tents to hide in.

She does as much washing as she can, mind. It wasn’t a good drying day yesterday, so we didn’t get our bed back. Well, Bertie and Biggles got theirs back, but for some reason ours still wasn’t dry by bedtime. Mam left our tents in for us instead. Neville kept going in mine, so I told him rather strongly that it was mine, not his.

The trouble with having clean cages is we haven’t got enough hay built up to really have fun with it. We’ve got enough to eat, but it spreads a bit thin when you try to lie on it too. And as for tunnelling in it, well, forget it.

But apart from that, everything seems pretty settled now. Mam is always busy around the house. Maybe she was always busy but she had two floors of house to look after, so we don’t know what she did when she was downstairs. It seemed yesterday that she was always doing something; cleaning our room, cleaning all the windows, putting our dry things away. Putting her dry things away. Doing things on the little computer. Doing things on the big computer (I use the little one when she lets me get hold of it.)

So now we’ve got rid of the itches, and everything’s settled down.

Except Mam says we may have a party on Friday and get renamed the Victory Four. It’s like the Jubilee Seven, but different.

Watch this space!

So long for now

Roscoe xxxx

the palace

Our palace is finished

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

We’ve got a palace! I know Mam told us we’d have a new set of connecting runs all one level, but I never thought it would be as nice as this.

So, on the left, having a sup from his waterbottle, although you can see his back, is Bertie. He’s next to the window-door. His is a 3×2 panel run. Next to him is Neville (at the waterbottle) and me in our 4×2. And next door to us on the right is Biggles, who you can just about see having a bite of celery in his tunnel. He’s got a 6 cube run, but it’s a 2×2 with a 1×2 extension behind ours to make it the same size as Bertie’s.

Don’t you think Mam was clever to lay it out like that? She says it’s easier to get behind Biggles this way, and although his then sticks out more into the room, that’s fine.

In the cubes underneath Mam’s now put our carry boxes, spare fleeces, our tents, and stuff like that. She’s going to use the ones on the other side of Biggles for her own bits, she says.

At one time last week I thought it wasn’t going to happen. Mam got as far as making the base for Biggles, and put his cage on top of it. We were still down on the floor in our cages, although Bertie’s hardly ever in his cage if the ramp was attached. One night Mam forgot to put the top of his cage down, and he was out for a run all night, since he couldnt get back in! I suspect Mam heard him, but let him learn his lesson. We haven’t got ramps in our palace, although Mam says she’s working on it.

Working on it is something she does a lot of. I was saying, she got Boggle’s base done, and then decided she had to plan it properly, like the legendary George would. So she drew it on squared paper and starting counting grids. And counted them again. And then she said “I’m two panels short, boys.”

So then she ordered some more from Mr Amazonian, who said they’d be delivered by the 28th, which as you know is next week. Mam was a bit disappointed, but said ‘Oh, well, they’ll get here when they get here.’ And then she got a message to say they’d be here on Saturday just gone! And then she got a message to say they would arrive at lunchtime – on Thursday!

So Mam got working on it, and eventually it all got made. Nev and I had to spend the day on Mam’s bed, mind. Well, not on her bed like Legendary George, we were in our cage on the bed. Mam made our base, but put Bertie’s cage on it while she made Bertie’s base. And then she made all the top bits. But eventually it was all finished, and all the floors put down that she’d brought with her, and we moved in.

I must says, it’s smashing. And there’s something else I thought. I reckon we’ll never have to move again. Not when Mam’s gone to all this trouble to make such a nice house. So I can relax. I’m home for good.

We’re at work on the grass, getting there slowly. Moving across the garden again. I reckons it’ll be at least two weeks before we reach the end of the garden. I wonder whether Mam will get the machine out to give it a once over before we finish. She did that to the front grass yesterday, and it looks right bonnie.

See you next time

Roscoe xxxx

The Legendary George

Grass; such an interesting topic

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

Mam’s been picking grass for us most days. Biggles has got so used to it that he gives out a big wheek when it’s the right sort of time. Mam comes along and asks us what’s wrong, and we all wheek at her and she realises. She’s good like that.

She’s been going into the garden and picking grass for us. There are different types, we can tell. There’s thick, lush grass which sounds like it’s from the wet and sunny part at the bottom. We haven’t been down there yet. Mam says there are buttercups and daisies and she doesnt think we can go down, but we’d be her easiest way of keeping the grass under control. We don’t eat daisies and buttercups, Mam, they’re bad for us. Just send us down there and we’ll do the job.

Then there’s some thinner grass which I reckon has been growing in the shade. That’s probably from the side of the bank going down the little hill. It’s very tasty, and is the one most likely to have dandelions in it.

Then there’s a little smidgin of our new grass, whch Mam gave us yesterday. It’s short and tough at the moment, but I reckon when it settles in, it’ll be fine.

Mam says it might be warm enough for us to go out this week. She’s not supposed to walk on the new grass till after Easter, and that’s this coming weekend. But she reckons she could put down a mat and stand on that to put our runs out.

She’s clever, you know, our Mam. She works out ways to do things. She even managed to hook the washing machine up to everything yesterday. She spent the whole afternoon doing washing. The machine is still in the middle of the kitchen. She’s still thinking about it.

See what happens this week. Bertie will tell all next Monday. He gets all the fun jobs. He’s put together a group of our posts to tell the saga of our move from Norfolk to Hampshire. I wrote half of it, mind.

Bye for now

Roscoe xxxx