This was taken on a fairly dry day. Since then, about a week ago, the weather has been as stormy as me trying to work out how to get onto my blogs. One at Wordpress, this on on Google. I am caught up with passwords, user names, email addresses so that I am tangled up like Gulliver and becoming, of course, frustrated with the learning process.
Anyway I managed to get out today and found the way to Trengothal which is one of the places where Fen used to live. I took the right hand turn where the three way sign is, not the way up past St Levan School but the other fork. In fact there's a confluence of three roads at Crean Bottoms, plus the Public footpath that you can't come all the way through because of Ruben's muddy mutant farmplace, where bedraggled, wet and muddy horses walk around hock deep in mud, manure, urine, water and anything else thrown on the ground. You can smell it 500 yards away. People seem to work there and give the horses this mangy looking hay which can't be that good. They seem about moderately fed. Some are stabled and a large herd stand around again knee deep in mud gazing longingly at a green field over the fence.
Anyway I remembered Trengothal where I saw a fox once trotting through the furrows down by the trees at the bottom of a dip. I think Fen got fed up with mud and flies. I saw a bunch of people get out of a truck and none of them understood me, they were either Polish, most likely or Ukrainian. The farmer was in the tractor. He jumped down. Name of Barry Hocking. Seemed friendly enough. One the way up passed Amanda Richardson's house where you could see red lights and interesting paintings on the wall. I hope we meet. It would be inspiring for me. I am still interested in living somewhere around here but still exploring, maybe next winter alternating and also the possibility of a house sit.
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