Great excitement - this morning because we saw Baldrick on the Heath! And before you go thinking that our ageing friend Richard Sims (pictured eating some Greek sausage a couple of decades ago) is back over from Australia, it wasn't Dickie: it was the real Baldrick, the younger one, the fair dinkum Tony Robinson, not his older Victorian doppelganger. I was ever so excited, as any lifelong fan of 'Blackadder' surely would be. I don't know what he was doing, but he was on Warren Hill and there was also a movie camera there. So perhaps he's going to dig up the Heath, having maybe discovered that Warren Hill is one massive barrow, and we'll soon be seeing on our televisions where we used to work
the horses until he got to work on the site. It was really exciting. (And if you doubt that it was he, then here's the proof: a photograph taken from such distance that it proves nothing. He's in the middle of the group of three people two thirds away across the picture, while the camera is farther over towards the right-hand
margin). I was tempted to ride over to him to tell him that I had a brilliant and cunning plan, but I suspect that over the past three decades he has got so sick of people telling him that that his standard response would be to tell them to **** off. Or what I should maybe have done is told him that I am the father of a budding actor, and could he give me any tips about how to direct the boy's talent? And if you think that that claim is highly suspect, here's evidence which really does prove it: Anthony in his school play last night. Admittedly his dancing isn't yet up to the standards of, say, John Travolta or Alain de Royer-Dupre, but he's getting there in his own time.
So that's all good. And this coming on top of a cracking koi carp exhibition on the Severals at the weekend, where our local koi carp expert, breeder and international judge (not to mention owner, trainer, breeder, ex-jockey, saddler, builder, author, singer, musician, song-writer, athlete, entrepreneur and all-round-good-guy) Scobie Coogan exhibited some of his finest fish in aid of cancer charities. He did the same in the courtyard of the Rutland Arms last winter and it was good then, and it was even better in warm bright weather on the Severals on Sunday. Aside from all
that, we also have the excitement of Hannah, I hope, having a good chance on Kadouchski at Folkestone tomorrow, and then Batgirl heading off to the July Meeting on Friday with some sort of rough chance, notwithstanding the fact that the race will be considerably more competitive than the ones she generally contests. She's certainly earned the right to be there, and she's taken her good race last week very well, so we can look forward to that. As I think can she, because she's really thriving on her routine at present, and, as you can see, looked a picture of contentment on Monday morning when enjoying the long pick of grass on which she insists each day after exercise.
Great excitement - this morning because we saw Baldrick on the Heath! And before you go thinking that our ageing friend Richard Sims (pictured eating some Greek sausage a couple of decades ago) is back over from Australia, it wasn't Dickie: it was the real Baldrick, the younger one, the fair dinkum Tony Robinson, not his older Victorian doppelganger. I was ever so excited, as any lifelong fan of 'Blackadder' surely would be. I don't know what he was doing, but he was on Warren Hill and there was also a movie camera there. So perhaps he's going to dig up the Heath, having maybe discovered that Warren Hill is one massive barrow, and we'll soon be seeing on our televisions where we used to work
the horses until he got to work on the site. It was really exciting. (And if you doubt that it was he, then here's the proof: a photograph taken from such distance that it proves nothing. He's in the middle of the group of three people two thirds away across the picture, while the camera is farther over towards the right-hand
margin). I was tempted to ride over to him to tell him that I had a brilliant and cunning plan, but I suspect that over the past three decades he has got so sick of people telling him that that his standard response would be to tell them to **** off. Or what I should maybe have done is told him that I am the father of a budding actor, and could he give me any tips about how to direct the boy's talent? And if you think that that claim is highly suspect, here's evidence which really does prove it: Anthony in his school play last night. Admittedly his dancing isn't yet up to the standards of, say, John Travolta or Alain de Royer-Dupre, but he's getting there in his own time.
So that's all good. And this coming on top of a cracking koi carp exhibition on the Severals at the weekend, where our local koi carp expert, breeder and international judge (not to mention owner, trainer, breeder, ex-jockey, saddler, builder, author, singer, musician, song-writer, athlete, entrepreneur and all-round-good-guy) Scobie Coogan exhibited some of his finest fish in aid of cancer charities. He did the same in the courtyard of the Rutland Arms last winter and it was good then, and it was even better in warm bright weather on the Severals on Sunday. Aside from all 
that, we also have the excitement of Hannah, I hope, having a good chance on Kadouchski at Folkestone tomorrow, and then Batgirl heading off to the July Meeting on Friday with some sort of rough chance, notwithstanding the fact that the race will be considerably more competitive than the ones she generally contests. She's certainly earned the right to be there, and she's taken her good race last week very well, so we can look forward to that. As I think can she, because she's really thriving on her routine at present, and, as you can see, looked a picture of contentment on Monday morning when enjoying the long pick of grass on which she insists each day after exercise.
1 comment:
Hi John
Thank goodness Mick Aston wasn't on the Heath with Tony Robinson; those Christmas jumpers could spook your string at a thousand paces :-)
Nathan.
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