Tally Bloody Ho!

Oh dear. The realisation that this village may not be as perfect as I first thought sort of hit me this morning as I took the dog for his morning jaunt. I could hear horses on the road - nothing unusual there, and there seemed to be a lot of chelsea tractors parked down our otherwise quiet lane and a lot of fat, ruddy faced blokes in flat caps and wellies. As I got to the farm on the corner I realised why.......a bloody fox hunt - oh joy (not). Apparently we live bang smack in the middle of 'upper class bastards' country and these pompous arseholes do this every week from Dec to March, after that they just go out and club fox cubs and badgers!! Did I mention that this week my overwhelming desire to head down south has returned? Well now it's back in spades. I met a rather nice lady delivering the local free mag who filled me in on 'village life'. It amused me greatly that every time some fat, red coated t**t went by on their horse they spoke to us - I ignored them and she just said "shame on you" before she hurried home to lock up her pets. I met the secretary for the WI - she was heading to the hunt. My trial run at tomorrow nights meeting could prove to be very interesting - I may need to bite my lip quite a bit. Meanwhile it's a beautiful cold sunny day and I need to attack my crochet with great gusto as I have a huge pile of unfinished projects to tackle. Onwards and upwards. If there's any karma in this world the only injuries from the mornings hunt will be to the riders and not any wildlife.