Dear Diary,
I was awakened in the night by a terrible rasping scream close by. I shook Ned awake and he listened and when it came again, he just laughed and said it was a fox.
"A fox?!" I gasped, "well, it is the fox from Hell! Do you think he smells our sausages?"
I was still muttering anxiously away when I noticed that Ned was asleep again. I moved as close to him as I dared and curled up in my blanket.
I awoke to the gentle pattering of rain upon the canvas, Ned was already up and pulling on his boots. I was quite content to lie there and listen to the rain whilst warm and cosy in my woolly cocoon. I heard Ned bustling about outside and after awhile he popped his head back in and handed me some hot tea and told me that there was a rabbit in one of the snares he had set.
"You could roast it for dinner," he grinned.
I am not a fellow to shrink from tasks but it did take me the greater part of the day to prepare the beast. I am glad Ned was not there to see my preparation and the wincing and groaning and whimpering that it entailed but I did eventually get a stick pushed through it.
He limped into camp late in the afternoon. "What have you done to your foot?" I asked.
"Never mind that," he said, "what have you done to the rabbit?!"
"I think it is cooking well," I replied, "It's just that it's fur keeps setting alight and I have to put it out."
"You did gut it?" He sighed.
"Oops!" I smiled.
He had been extricating a ewe trapped between some rocks when one of the rocks rolled over his foot.
"It feels badly swollen," he winced, will you help me get my boot off in the tent?"
He gritted his teeth and held onto the pole and I tried to ease it off but it was no good it was stuck fast.
"Pull harder," he said. So I did.
It took quite some effort and I was huffing and puffing loudly. When it started to slip off Ned cried out:
"Yes!....Oh yes!.....oh Yes!...Yes!Oh yes!" The tent was shaking wildly as he held onto the pole. "It's coming!" I cried. It suddenly slipped off and with one loud "Yes!" from the both of us we collapsed on the bedding breathing heavily. We lay there smiling at each other recovering from our efforts when a voice outside the tent said,
"What the f*** are you two lads doing in there!?"
It was Ned's uncle.
Kristin Chenowith - Home
14 years ago
4 comments:
Wayne, I hoped you told Ned's uncle to get his mind out of the gutter.
-h
Dear Wayne,
Do take care to guard your sausage from the fox.
The boot removal description was almost like the real thing and yes if I close my eyes....but I dare not!
Pantingly yours,
B.
My dear Mr. Austen,
just a note of warning to amorously disposed campers. It is wise to extinguish all lights ( oil lamps, candles etc. ) within a tent before engaging in "bedroom sports", as the shadows projected on to the canvas can provide passers by with an entertaining shadow play :-O
Yours advisedly,
Sir Studly Buckwell
My dear gentlemen,
To my dear distant 'Hayden?' I say indeed, how folk can jump to the wrong conclusions!
To my dear Mr Moose, I say fear not my sausage is in safe hands.
To my dear Mr Buckley I say....spoilsport!
Yours multitaskingly,
Wayne Austen
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