In reply to Post #391
Thanks ken i am really honored thanks all the members that voted for me
Thanks ken i am really honored thanks all the members that voted for me
In reply to Post #390
I got to know the Shropshire gypsies quite well when i was young they moved around the county selling lace carpets pegs they would call at the house saying hello misses here's a little posy, of heather for luck do you want any pegs they were true romanais, i can still remember the beautiful horses they would let me ride some but only around the encampment there was no saddle it was all bear backed i often thought i might fall off but i never did i used to watch them make there pegs usually a bit of hazel bound together a the top with metal strips cut from an old tin it did not take them long to make a few. They would sit around the camp fire with a clay pipe in there mouths even some of the women smoked a pipe they were great days they would always have a few sweets, for me the caravans were beautiful painted and looked really comfortable a lot of the locals were a bit scared of them i was not and learned a lot about the country side old jack and his brothers would be off over the fields with there dogs catching the rabbits or hares they would arrive back with four or five of the latter they never starved nearly every time i went to see them a big black saucepan would be hanging over the fire and its contents smelled really good but that was long ago it was in the late forties they are not there today most now live in houses its a real shame they were part of our heritage and the country side.
We always had the English gentleman around the tramp i met quite a few in my younger days they would knock the door asking if we could fill there billy can up with tea they liked this way of life and the farmers would turn a blind eye letting them sleep in the barn it was a very hard life i know the one tramp had money but he preferred to live the way he did my mother would always give them a cooked dinner and fill his can with tea bless you deary he would say you might not see him again for twelve months but he would call if he was back in the area he knew were he could get a free meal.
The other gentlemen we saw was the knife grinder he would arrive on his bike his pedals turn the grinding stone he would sharpen scissors knives i forget what he charged pennies the whole street would come carrying there knives even axes to resharpen then he would be away to the next village or town he was another that slept ruff but he made a few shillings to keep him in beer and food. Well a bit more latter
I got to know the Shropshire gypsies quite well when i was young they moved around the county selling lace carpets pegs they would call at the house saying hello misses here's a little posy, of heather for luck do you want any pegs they were true romanais, i can still remember the beautiful horses they would let me ride some but only around the encampment there was no saddle it was all bear backed i often thought i might fall off but i never did i used to watch them make there pegs usually a bit of hazel bound together a the top with metal strips cut from an old tin it did not take them long to make a few. They would sit around the camp fire with a clay pipe in there mouths even some of the women smoked a pipe they were great days they would always have a few sweets, for me the caravans were beautiful painted and looked really comfortable a lot of the locals were a bit scared of them i was not and learned a lot about the country side old jack and his brothers would be off over the fields with there dogs catching the rabbits or hares they would arrive back with four or five of the latter they never starved nearly every time i went to see them a big black saucepan would be hanging over the fire and its contents smelled really good but that was long ago it was in the late forties they are not there today most now live in houses its a real shame they were part of our heritage and the country side.
We always had the English gentleman around the tramp i met quite a few in my younger days they would knock the door asking if we could fill there billy can up with tea they liked this way of life and the farmers would turn a blind eye letting them sleep in the barn it was a very hard life i know the one tramp had money but he preferred to live the way he did my mother would always give them a cooked dinner and fill his can with tea bless you deary he would say you might not see him again for twelve months but he would call if he was back in the area he knew were he could get a free meal.
The other gentlemen we saw was the knife grinder he would arrive on his bike his pedals turn the grinding stone he would sharpen scissors knives i forget what he charged pennies the whole street would come carrying there knives even axes to resharpen then he would be away to the next village or town he was another that slept ruff but he made a few shillings to keep him in beer and food. Well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #393
In those far off days i always carried a ferret it lived in my shirt when i was up the fields, or woods, it was a big old hob i had some great days catching a few rabbits his name was George i think we went every where together he would curl up under my shirt some time he would just sit on my shoulder although he was a pet he got us our dinner on so many occasions and in those days it was hard so it was appreciated by my parents, and our friends, i always carried a few nets and would only ferret a small bury getting a couple out then i would move on and try another if i ended up with six i was quite happy in those days the keepers would put the snares down there was so many rabbits, they would catch hundreds i would walk the hedge rows and the side of the woods i would carefully take the rabbit, and reset the snare he would not miss them, he would do his rounds most mornings to take the rabbits caught and reset the snare the rabbits were big business on most estates they would be sent to Birmingham or London the money going back into the estate when i was young a lot of the estates employed a man to catch the rabbits when the myxomatosis showed its ugly head it put a good many out of work that was 1952 or there abouts i would walk the fields there were hundreds of rabbits, just sitting there they never moved there heads, swollen like big foot balls we would hit them on the head with sticks to put them out of there misery in the late forties early fifties we relied on rabbit for our dinner but it was not only us that missed the humble rabbit a lot of the wild life suffered the buzzard the fox and many more owls carrion crow but they survived by changing there diet.
I stared to fish for the brown trout we did not suffer i caught hundreds i had to keep an eye out for the bailiffs and keepers they were about most days so i would go early in a morning before they were around i usually came back with at least twelve i would use little red worms or spin for them the river, was stocked for the estates who then let the fishing to some of the fly fishing syndicate it was great fishing Mrs Thomas my school mistress asked if i could catch her a couple which i did i used to catch a couple of rabbits for her before they had that terrible disease. well that's it for now more latter
In those far off days i always carried a ferret it lived in my shirt when i was up the fields, or woods, it was a big old hob i had some great days catching a few rabbits his name was George i think we went every where together he would curl up under my shirt some time he would just sit on my shoulder although he was a pet he got us our dinner on so many occasions and in those days it was hard so it was appreciated by my parents, and our friends, i always carried a few nets and would only ferret a small bury getting a couple out then i would move on and try another if i ended up with six i was quite happy in those days the keepers would put the snares down there was so many rabbits, they would catch hundreds i would walk the hedge rows and the side of the woods i would carefully take the rabbit, and reset the snare he would not miss them, he would do his rounds most mornings to take the rabbits caught and reset the snare the rabbits were big business on most estates they would be sent to Birmingham or London the money going back into the estate when i was young a lot of the estates employed a man to catch the rabbits when the myxomatosis showed its ugly head it put a good many out of work that was 1952 or there abouts i would walk the fields there were hundreds of rabbits, just sitting there they never moved there heads, swollen like big foot balls we would hit them on the head with sticks to put them out of there misery in the late forties early fifties we relied on rabbit for our dinner but it was not only us that missed the humble rabbit a lot of the wild life suffered the buzzard the fox and many more owls carrion crow but they survived by changing there diet.
I stared to fish for the brown trout we did not suffer i caught hundreds i had to keep an eye out for the bailiffs and keepers they were about most days so i would go early in a morning before they were around i usually came back with at least twelve i would use little red worms or spin for them the river, was stocked for the estates who then let the fishing to some of the fly fishing syndicate it was great fishing Mrs Thomas my school mistress asked if i could catch her a couple which i did i used to catch a couple of rabbits for her before they had that terrible disease. well that's it for now more latter
In reply to Post #394
After reading skeffs new book that was kindly sent me he brought back a few happy memories he had actually fished a couple of places that i to had fished only the difference was he legally fished i poached in those days you would not get permission to fish any of the estates, they were reserved for shooting the one estate, he fished was well known in my youth, in fact i caught my first really big salmon from that same estate it weighted in at twenty five pounds going back to those years the river never held barbel, it was chub, and roach, that was the main quarry and of course the dace, pike, and salmon, in season but what they did have was plenty of pheasants on the one estate he mentioned there was a lake infact it is still there god i poached that a few times catching tench to nearly six pounds i would ride my bike the seven miles from our house rods tied to the cross bar bag on my back these were halcyon days the lakes were stuffed with fish i expect i was the only one that had fished there it was beautiful and peaceful and idyllic but it was keepered and then there was the under keepers i would sit by the lake side hidden by the reed beds i would cast out usually a big old worm the only bit of rod that may be seen was the tip i ledgered with a piece of silver paper folded on the line i was there one night when i heard a lot of shouting and dogs barking i pulled my rod in they were not after me for sure but i was not taking any chances and forded the river behind the hall the shouting stopped. I Had noticed the pheasants they were every where i was determined to have a go some of my mates had said it was to dangerous i would be caught but i never did although i was chased on a number of occasions.
I can remember the first time i poached the place for the pheasants, i took a friend who was a gypsy, he picked the birds up when i had shot them i think we had shot about thirteen when we heard a dog barking it was further away in the woods some one was definitely around was it the keepers or another poacher we soon found out come on out or we will shoot, there was more than one and they did shoot over our heads we were running blindly in the dark we stopped a listened and got our bearings we were not far from the main road we climbed over the fence onto the road then into an old dry ditch and there we stayed for the next hour or so in the paper the next evening it said poacher caught from the same estate was it us they were after that we will never know but i returned there many times to shoot and fish and never did i get caught once, thanks mark for the wonderfull memories. A little bit more latter.
After reading skeffs new book that was kindly sent me he brought back a few happy memories he had actually fished a couple of places that i to had fished only the difference was he legally fished i poached in those days you would not get permission to fish any of the estates, they were reserved for shooting the one estate, he fished was well known in my youth, in fact i caught my first really big salmon from that same estate it weighted in at twenty five pounds going back to those years the river never held barbel, it was chub, and roach, that was the main quarry and of course the dace, pike, and salmon, in season but what they did have was plenty of pheasants on the one estate he mentioned there was a lake infact it is still there god i poached that a few times catching tench to nearly six pounds i would ride my bike the seven miles from our house rods tied to the cross bar bag on my back these were halcyon days the lakes were stuffed with fish i expect i was the only one that had fished there it was beautiful and peaceful and idyllic but it was keepered and then there was the under keepers i would sit by the lake side hidden by the reed beds i would cast out usually a big old worm the only bit of rod that may be seen was the tip i ledgered with a piece of silver paper folded on the line i was there one night when i heard a lot of shouting and dogs barking i pulled my rod in they were not after me for sure but i was not taking any chances and forded the river behind the hall the shouting stopped. I Had noticed the pheasants they were every where i was determined to have a go some of my mates had said it was to dangerous i would be caught but i never did although i was chased on a number of occasions.
I can remember the first time i poached the place for the pheasants, i took a friend who was a gypsy, he picked the birds up when i had shot them i think we had shot about thirteen when we heard a dog barking it was further away in the woods some one was definitely around was it the keepers or another poacher we soon found out come on out or we will shoot, there was more than one and they did shoot over our heads we were running blindly in the dark we stopped a listened and got our bearings we were not far from the main road we climbed over the fence onto the road then into an old dry ditch and there we stayed for the next hour or so in the paper the next evening it said poacher caught from the same estate was it us they were after that we will never know but i returned there many times to shoot and fish and never did i get caught once, thanks mark for the wonderfull memories. A little bit more latter.
In reply to Post #395
Pete - I'm glad you enjoyed my book as much as I enjoy reading these recollections..... Hope to meet up sometime this year when I'm next in your part of the world. Kind regards. Skeff
Pete - I'm glad you enjoyed my book as much as I enjoy reading these recollections..... Hope to meet up sometime this year when I'm next in your part of the world. Kind regards. Skeff
In reply to Post #395
There was one other place i went to that skeff knows i will not say the name but it is now national trust i fished there around fifty five years ago i tried to get permission but was told polity by the owner to bugger off charming this did not put me off and i would fish the river tern day and night i was there one night and herd a lot of dogs barking on having a closer look it was deer poachers it is beyond me why they are so cruel they rip these beautiful animals to bits with there dogs there was no way i was staying before long the police and keepers would be on the scene so i quickly slipped away on my bike in the local newspaper it said poachers had been to the park but they had got away leaving one or two deer severely injured and had to be put down another time i was there i saw a deer with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder it was not a cross bow bolt but a big fletched arrow i packed up and went to the hall on knocking the big door they were none to pleased to see me but after explaining what i had seen they thanked me i have shot fished all my life but i cannot abide cruelty but going on the fishing was great i caught chub roach even bream and perch in those days there was no barbel in those days i would go in the evening and fish till midnight it was a most beautiful place i love watching the deer in the park and i spent many happy hours doing just that.
I was there on e night fishing very happily when i heard a shot and a lot of shouting it was poachers and the police and keepers were after them in my haste to get away i fell in it was freezing but i managed to pull myself up the bank by the time i got home i was literally steaming but that did not stop me i wanted to have a look at some of the woods and went in the day light i found two big release pens there was a number of feeders and pheasant every where i looked i did not fancy poaching the woods at night so a few day latter saw me hiding behind this big old tree i used some fishing line and a hook with a big sultana as bait i did not wait long i caught this big old cock the bugger scratched my hand drawing blood with his spurs thinking back i caught around six then i was away i was never found and left no mess or prints to give me away it was a wonderful place as i say it is now run by the trust in those days i cannot think who owed it the only thing i can say they were not very friendly. I would watch on shoot days i think they were on a thursday and saturday i managed to pick a few they had missed to pick up but loved watching the gents and ladies shoot and would go mostly on a thursday that was over fifty years ago where has all the time gone well a bit more later.
There was one other place i went to that skeff knows i will not say the name but it is now national trust i fished there around fifty five years ago i tried to get permission but was told polity by the owner to bugger off charming this did not put me off and i would fish the river tern day and night i was there one night and herd a lot of dogs barking on having a closer look it was deer poachers it is beyond me why they are so cruel they rip these beautiful animals to bits with there dogs there was no way i was staying before long the police and keepers would be on the scene so i quickly slipped away on my bike in the local newspaper it said poachers had been to the park but they had got away leaving one or two deer severely injured and had to be put down another time i was there i saw a deer with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder it was not a cross bow bolt but a big fletched arrow i packed up and went to the hall on knocking the big door they were none to pleased to see me but after explaining what i had seen they thanked me i have shot fished all my life but i cannot abide cruelty but going on the fishing was great i caught chub roach even bream and perch in those days there was no barbel in those days i would go in the evening and fish till midnight it was a most beautiful place i love watching the deer in the park and i spent many happy hours doing just that.
I was there on e night fishing very happily when i heard a shot and a lot of shouting it was poachers and the police and keepers were after them in my haste to get away i fell in it was freezing but i managed to pull myself up the bank by the time i got home i was literally steaming but that did not stop me i wanted to have a look at some of the woods and went in the day light i found two big release pens there was a number of feeders and pheasant every where i looked i did not fancy poaching the woods at night so a few day latter saw me hiding behind this big old tree i used some fishing line and a hook with a big sultana as bait i did not wait long i caught this big old cock the bugger scratched my hand drawing blood with his spurs thinking back i caught around six then i was away i was never found and left no mess or prints to give me away it was a wonderful place as i say it is now run by the trust in those days i cannot think who owed it the only thing i can say they were not very friendly. I would watch on shoot days i think they were on a thursday and saturday i managed to pick a few they had missed to pick up but loved watching the gents and ladies shoot and would go mostly on a thursday that was over fifty years ago where has all the time gone well a bit more later.
In reply to Post #397
Here comes tweedledee and tweedledum they would say on the arrival of graham and myself its a nick name that has stood for years we went every where together shooting fishing to the pub you two are joined at the hip some would say i suppose we were we had been mates for fifty years our families went on holiday together we have had some good times and some not, but one thing we did have was a love of fishing and the country side although things have changed in the last few months owing to Graham losing his wife but we will be out doing it again this year with a bit of luck the only thing that's in our way is age and health he was around at my house yesterday he said i am annoyed Pete i cant walk like i used to you wont i said you are now seventy six and i am seventy one in may, but I said Graham we have seen it all and have done it. We have met the best and fished with the best of our generation not many can say that even if we cant do what we used to we have our memories.
One thing we will never do again is walk the hill country which was the one love of our lives the times we have stood together and shot the ducks on the big stubble fields height up in the hills we have seen the snow driving in our faces and the bite of the wind on our face seen the old foxy make his way across the snow filled field hunting some poor unsuspecting rabbit in the woods, we have been up there when there was a full moon and the winds were roaring causing shadows to drift across the hills and fields a sight that should not be missed we used to feel so alone up there just myself and graham waiting for the the first flight of ducks to come to the small pool but we are glad to have been there to feel the magic of it all. i suppose we have been lucky to have the respect of the farmers we both could more or less go where we wanted we were known all over Shropshire and parts of wales its not like that today shooting and fishing are hard to get. Not like when we both were young and we gained the respect of the land owner we did favours for them we got rid of the vermin rats and foxes if causing trouble kept the rabbit population down it got us our fishing and shooting we paid nothing in those far off days not like today.
We gained the respect of the owner of Acton Burnell long before Rob hales had it we had the two lakes to our selves for many years you would not see another soul only the occasional visit from the game keeper he trusted us i am glad it was not a few years before but i can honestly say i have never taken a pheasant from there then there was Bomere no one fished there it was strictly private Mr Davies who owned it never let anyone near the water but we gained his respect and i can honestly say we were the only ones fishing there for many years we would go out on the punt and fish for the roach using sliding floats it was wonderful the locals could not believe we had permission
and when he died we were offered the water which we did and formed a syndicate then there was the syndicate called Berry croft which graham and i ran on Berrington the same lake that we fished with Dennis Kelly who was a member and Jack Hilton and Bill quinlan they fished with us for a weeks session jack and Bill were fishing Redmire at the time we both have had a wonderful life we never had much money or gear but we made the best of what we
had, and we caught some good fish we have also been members of a few shooting organizations so we really cannot complain. well a bit more latter.
Here comes tweedledee and tweedledum they would say on the arrival of graham and myself its a nick name that has stood for years we went every where together shooting fishing to the pub you two are joined at the hip some would say i suppose we were we had been mates for fifty years our families went on holiday together we have had some good times and some not, but one thing we did have was a love of fishing and the country side although things have changed in the last few months owing to Graham losing his wife but we will be out doing it again this year with a bit of luck the only thing that's in our way is age and health he was around at my house yesterday he said i am annoyed Pete i cant walk like i used to you wont i said you are now seventy six and i am seventy one in may, but I said Graham we have seen it all and have done it. We have met the best and fished with the best of our generation not many can say that even if we cant do what we used to we have our memories.
One thing we will never do again is walk the hill country which was the one love of our lives the times we have stood together and shot the ducks on the big stubble fields height up in the hills we have seen the snow driving in our faces and the bite of the wind on our face seen the old foxy make his way across the snow filled field hunting some poor unsuspecting rabbit in the woods, we have been up there when there was a full moon and the winds were roaring causing shadows to drift across the hills and fields a sight that should not be missed we used to feel so alone up there just myself and graham waiting for the the first flight of ducks to come to the small pool but we are glad to have been there to feel the magic of it all. i suppose we have been lucky to have the respect of the farmers we both could more or less go where we wanted we were known all over Shropshire and parts of wales its not like that today shooting and fishing are hard to get. Not like when we both were young and we gained the respect of the land owner we did favours for them we got rid of the vermin rats and foxes if causing trouble kept the rabbit population down it got us our fishing and shooting we paid nothing in those far off days not like today.
We gained the respect of the owner of Acton Burnell long before Rob hales had it we had the two lakes to our selves for many years you would not see another soul only the occasional visit from the game keeper he trusted us i am glad it was not a few years before but i can honestly say i have never taken a pheasant from there then there was Bomere no one fished there it was strictly private Mr Davies who owned it never let anyone near the water but we gained his respect and i can honestly say we were the only ones fishing there for many years we would go out on the punt and fish for the roach using sliding floats it was wonderful the locals could not believe we had permission
and when he died we were offered the water which we did and formed a syndicate then there was the syndicate called Berry croft which graham and i ran on Berrington the same lake that we fished with Dennis Kelly who was a member and Jack Hilton and Bill quinlan they fished with us for a weeks session jack and Bill were fishing Redmire at the time we both have had a wonderful life we never had much money or gear but we made the best of what we
had, and we caught some good fish we have also been members of a few shooting organizations so we really cannot complain. well a bit more latter.
In reply to Post #397
Here comes tweedledee and tweedledum they would say on the arrival of graham and myself its a nick name that has stood for years we went every where together shooting fishing to the pub you two are joined at the hip some would say i suppose we were we had been mates for fifty years our families went on holiday together we have had some good times and some not, but one thing we did have was a love of fishing and the country side although things have changed in the last few months owing to Graham losing his wife but we will be out doing it again this year with a bit of luck the only thing that's in our way is age and health he was around at my house yesterday he said i am annoyed Pete i cant walk like i used to you wont i said you are now seventy six and i am seventy one in may, but I said Graham we have seen it all and have done it. We have met the best and fished with the best of our generation not many can say that even if we cant do what we used to we have our memories.
One thing we will never do again is walk the hill country which was the one love of our lives the times we have stood together and shot the ducks on the big stubble fields height up in the hills we have seen the snow driving in our faces and the bite of the wind on our face seen old foxy make his way across the snow filled field hunting some poor unsuspecting rabbit in the woods, we have been up there when there was a full moon and the winds were roaring causing shadows to drift across the hills and fields a sight that should not be missed we used to feel so alone up there just myself and graham waiting for the the first flight of ducks to come to the small pool but we are glad to have been there to feel the magic of it all. i suppose we have been lucky to have the respect of the farmers we both could more or less go where we wanted we were known all over Shropshire and parts of wales its not like that today shooting and fishing are hard to get. Not like when we both were young and we gained the respect of the land owner we did favours for them we got rid of the vermin rats and foxes if causing trouble kept the rabbit population down it got us our fishing and shooting we paid nothing in those far off days not like today.
We gained the respect of the owner of Acton Burnell long before Rob hales had it we had the two lakes to our selves for many years you would not see another soul only the occasional visit from the game keeper he trusted us i am glad it was not a few years before but i can honestly say i have never taken a pheasant from there then there was Bomere no one fished there it was strictly private Mr Davies who owned it never let anyone near the water but we gained his respect and i can honestly say we were the only ones fishing there for many years we would go out on the punt and fish for the roach using sliding floats it was wonderful the locals could not believe we had permission
and when he died we were offered the water which we did and formed a syndicate then there was the syndicate called Berry croft which graham and i ran on Berrington the same lake that we fished with Dennis Kelly who was a member and Jack Hilton and Bill quinlan they fished with us for a weeks session jack and Bill were fishing Redmire at the time we both have had a wonderful life we never had much money or gear but we made the best of what we
had, and we caught some good fish we have also been members of a few shooting organizations so we really cannot complain. well a bit more latter.
Here comes tweedledee and tweedledum they would say on the arrival of graham and myself its a nick name that has stood for years we went every where together shooting fishing to the pub you two are joined at the hip some would say i suppose we were we had been mates for fifty years our families went on holiday together we have had some good times and some not, but one thing we did have was a love of fishing and the country side although things have changed in the last few months owing to Graham losing his wife but we will be out doing it again this year with a bit of luck the only thing that's in our way is age and health he was around at my house yesterday he said i am annoyed Pete i cant walk like i used to you wont i said you are now seventy six and i am seventy one in may, but I said Graham we have seen it all and have done it. We have met the best and fished with the best of our generation not many can say that even if we cant do what we used to we have our memories.
One thing we will never do again is walk the hill country which was the one love of our lives the times we have stood together and shot the ducks on the big stubble fields height up in the hills we have seen the snow driving in our faces and the bite of the wind on our face seen old foxy make his way across the snow filled field hunting some poor unsuspecting rabbit in the woods, we have been up there when there was a full moon and the winds were roaring causing shadows to drift across the hills and fields a sight that should not be missed we used to feel so alone up there just myself and graham waiting for the the first flight of ducks to come to the small pool but we are glad to have been there to feel the magic of it all. i suppose we have been lucky to have the respect of the farmers we both could more or less go where we wanted we were known all over Shropshire and parts of wales its not like that today shooting and fishing are hard to get. Not like when we both were young and we gained the respect of the land owner we did favours for them we got rid of the vermin rats and foxes if causing trouble kept the rabbit population down it got us our fishing and shooting we paid nothing in those far off days not like today.
We gained the respect of the owner of Acton Burnell long before Rob hales had it we had the two lakes to our selves for many years you would not see another soul only the occasional visit from the game keeper he trusted us i am glad it was not a few years before but i can honestly say i have never taken a pheasant from there then there was Bomere no one fished there it was strictly private Mr Davies who owned it never let anyone near the water but we gained his respect and i can honestly say we were the only ones fishing there for many years we would go out on the punt and fish for the roach using sliding floats it was wonderful the locals could not believe we had permission
and when he died we were offered the water which we did and formed a syndicate then there was the syndicate called Berry croft which graham and i ran on Berrington the same lake that we fished with Dennis Kelly who was a member and Jack Hilton and Bill quinlan they fished with us for a weeks session jack and Bill were fishing Redmire at the time we both have had a wonderful life we never had much money or gear but we made the best of what we
had, and we caught some good fish we have also been members of a few shooting organizations so we really cannot complain. well a bit more latter.
In reply to Post #399
Talking to a friend the other day he said Pete why have you not got a dog any more well i said my health is not that good and i have to train him, it got me thinking a bit i have had a few funny dogs in the past one was a big old labrador he was a dog and a half his name was blaze he came from a local police officer, and was only six months old i could leave him sitting and walk away come back in ten minutes he would still be sitting there, but he really was a dog from hell, i could not stop him running in as soon as he saw a rabbit he was away a friend who was a professional trainer said he would soon cure him i went to see how he was doing he tied a thin piece of rope around he waist then then the other end around the dogs neck he threw this stuffed rabbit as far as he could at the same time said sit, did he sit, no way he went up the field like a bat out of hell he came to the end of the rope instead of stopping the dog he pulled the trainer over and literally dragged him a couple of yards picked up the rabbit and came back wagging his tail i am afraid i could not help but laugh there lay old Vic the trainer covered in mud sorry he said i cant do anything with him his bone headed no brains.
But i loved him and he was good with the family so i persevered graham and i would go out with him shooting we never came back with an empty bag he was a big old dog but he would force himself under the undergrowth rabbits would bolt and we shot them it was a waste of time taking him on a pheasant shoot it was very embarrassing if walking in beet he would want to pick every bird shot and would make other dogs, drop any they had picked it really was not on i can remember one day we were walking this field when an Hare bolted from cover i saw a gun shoot at the Hare i said you have hit that my lab blaze was away the last i saw of him was jumping a fence two fields away we stood on the river bridge for over half an hour in the distance we saw him making his way back by the time he got to me he looked tired out he stood in front of me his tail wagging and the hare firmly in his mouth what could i do but call him a good boy in all the years i owned him i never cured him from running in i stopped taking him on organized shoots but for ruff shooting you would not get a better dog he died at the age of sixteen and is buried in the garden he so loved.
One off my other dogs and the last i had was a wonderful dog i was asked to sell him on a number of occasions he was a springer his name was SAM a friend who was a gun smith from north wales asked if i would like him how much nothing was the reply i have to many bitches i cant cope with a dog as well apparently he came from a local school teacher who had lost his wife and never had time to train him so he was given to my friend the gun smith, well i really don't no if he trained me or i trained him he would walk around with an egg in his mouth and never break the shell i asked if he had the pedigree he said he would ask the teacher at twelve months i had him picking up my friend came a long and could not believe how steady he was he gave me a wink and said here and passed the paper work over to me i should of kept him he said on looking latter it said his parents were champion field trial winners. The only weakness he had was squirrels he hated them when he was eight months old i would walk him down the hedge rows not far far from my house he would bolt the rabbits and i would stop him with the whistle on this one occasion i saw the dust rising from this gate way and some squealing he had caught a squirrel and it must of bit him i called him back just in time to see the tail disappearing down his throat i could hear the bones crunching i thought that would spoil him and make him hard mouthed but it did not, i used to be bailiff for this trout fishery and he kept coming back with fish we asked all the anglers if they had lost any trout no was the answer then one day i saw him standing in the water up to his belly with on paw lifted he would dart his head under the water there was a splash and out he would come with a fish in his mouth he caught them to over four pounds he really was wonderful dog, he would stand in the water at another fishery he would wait until a swan mussel moved he would catch it and bring it back to me he could not understand why i put it back. I lost him at nine years old to weil's disease even thought he had Been inoculated against the disease i still have his ashes it was a cruel way to die the vets said they could cure him no way after six months of treatment he died i would never let that happen again i would have had him put to sleep i still shed a tear today as friends say he was one in a million he was but he was also a freind . well a bit more latter,
Talking to a friend the other day he said Pete why have you not got a dog any more well i said my health is not that good and i have to train him, it got me thinking a bit i have had a few funny dogs in the past one was a big old labrador he was a dog and a half his name was blaze he came from a local police officer, and was only six months old i could leave him sitting and walk away come back in ten minutes he would still be sitting there, but he really was a dog from hell, i could not stop him running in as soon as he saw a rabbit he was away a friend who was a professional trainer said he would soon cure him i went to see how he was doing he tied a thin piece of rope around he waist then then the other end around the dogs neck he threw this stuffed rabbit as far as he could at the same time said sit, did he sit, no way he went up the field like a bat out of hell he came to the end of the rope instead of stopping the dog he pulled the trainer over and literally dragged him a couple of yards picked up the rabbit and came back wagging his tail i am afraid i could not help but laugh there lay old Vic the trainer covered in mud sorry he said i cant do anything with him his bone headed no brains.
But i loved him and he was good with the family so i persevered graham and i would go out with him shooting we never came back with an empty bag he was a big old dog but he would force himself under the undergrowth rabbits would bolt and we shot them it was a waste of time taking him on a pheasant shoot it was very embarrassing if walking in beet he would want to pick every bird shot and would make other dogs, drop any they had picked it really was not on i can remember one day we were walking this field when an Hare bolted from cover i saw a gun shoot at the Hare i said you have hit that my lab blaze was away the last i saw of him was jumping a fence two fields away we stood on the river bridge for over half an hour in the distance we saw him making his way back by the time he got to me he looked tired out he stood in front of me his tail wagging and the hare firmly in his mouth what could i do but call him a good boy in all the years i owned him i never cured him from running in i stopped taking him on organized shoots but for ruff shooting you would not get a better dog he died at the age of sixteen and is buried in the garden he so loved.
One off my other dogs and the last i had was a wonderful dog i was asked to sell him on a number of occasions he was a springer his name was SAM a friend who was a gun smith from north wales asked if i would like him how much nothing was the reply i have to many bitches i cant cope with a dog as well apparently he came from a local school teacher who had lost his wife and never had time to train him so he was given to my friend the gun smith, well i really don't no if he trained me or i trained him he would walk around with an egg in his mouth and never break the shell i asked if he had the pedigree he said he would ask the teacher at twelve months i had him picking up my friend came a long and could not believe how steady he was he gave me a wink and said here and passed the paper work over to me i should of kept him he said on looking latter it said his parents were champion field trial winners. The only weakness he had was squirrels he hated them when he was eight months old i would walk him down the hedge rows not far far from my house he would bolt the rabbits and i would stop him with the whistle on this one occasion i saw the dust rising from this gate way and some squealing he had caught a squirrel and it must of bit him i called him back just in time to see the tail disappearing down his throat i could hear the bones crunching i thought that would spoil him and make him hard mouthed but it did not, i used to be bailiff for this trout fishery and he kept coming back with fish we asked all the anglers if they had lost any trout no was the answer then one day i saw him standing in the water up to his belly with on paw lifted he would dart his head under the water there was a splash and out he would come with a fish in his mouth he caught them to over four pounds he really was wonderful dog, he would stand in the water at another fishery he would wait until a swan mussel moved he would catch it and bring it back to me he could not understand why i put it back. I lost him at nine years old to weil's disease even thought he had Been inoculated against the disease i still have his ashes it was a cruel way to die the vets said they could cure him no way after six months of treatment he died i would never let that happen again i would have had him put to sleep i still shed a tear today as friends say he was one in a million he was but he was also a freind . well a bit more latter,
In reply to Post #400
Snow again i think the worst i have seen was 1963 although 1947 was bad in 1963 it started snowing boxing day god did it snow i lived in hill country and there were drifts over ten feet not only that the frost penetrate the ground to around 18 inches it was very cold we did not have that much to eat so i would be off poaching hoping to get a pheasant or two it was really hard going it lasted for ten weeks and most of the time i never worked so there was no money coming in you could walk over a five bar gate it was that frozen the local shop was running out of food so they flew it in by helicopter in the end i did manage to get a job of sorts cash in the hand i went as a drivers mate at the local creamery helping get through to the farms for the milk it was not a good job but it brought a few pounds in and kept us going until the frost and snow final vanished that was in late march it killed a lot of the wild life i would find birds frozen to the ground i would gently free them and take them home until they showed signs of recovery the rabbit population had now started to recovered from the myxomatosis and there was quite a few in numbers poor things there was nothing to eat so they chewed and eat the bark from the trees or young shoots they were to emancipated to eat the pheasant was not to bad they were fed by the keepers but you had to be careful in case you left tracks informing the keepers some one had been around.
i still had my old rifle so i would lie in the ditch that was full of frozen snow, god it was cold i was lying behind a big hedge, that kept most of the wind and cold out, it was over looking the woods when the pheasents came in range i would have them i never went at night it was to dangerous if you slipped you could break your leg there were also a few open shafts that had been used for mining if i got two brace that was enough it kept us going for a few days but it was a hard slog walking through the snow the nearest big shoot was over six miles away but we managed there was no fishing the rivers had frozen solid i even saw a car being driven down the river fools if it had given way that would of been there last but it was over seven inches thick all the lakes were frozen solid, we could not get a car on the road from where we lived the roads were hedge hight with snow that had frozen solid the council were trying to dig us out it was the first time i saw the big snow blowers in time they made there way through but only enough to drive a car the problem was by night time with the winds we were having it blew it all back blocking the road, once again it was literally a losing battle but the council struggled on god it was cold i really felt sorry for the workers we would wear brown paper under our trousers to help keep the heat in it did work you were often in snow up to your knees.
well a little more latter
Snow again i think the worst i have seen was 1963 although 1947 was bad in 1963 it started snowing boxing day god did it snow i lived in hill country and there were drifts over ten feet not only that the frost penetrate the ground to around 18 inches it was very cold we did not have that much to eat so i would be off poaching hoping to get a pheasant or two it was really hard going it lasted for ten weeks and most of the time i never worked so there was no money coming in you could walk over a five bar gate it was that frozen the local shop was running out of food so they flew it in by helicopter in the end i did manage to get a job of sorts cash in the hand i went as a drivers mate at the local creamery helping get through to the farms for the milk it was not a good job but it brought a few pounds in and kept us going until the frost and snow final vanished that was in late march it killed a lot of the wild life i would find birds frozen to the ground i would gently free them and take them home until they showed signs of recovery the rabbit population had now started to recovered from the myxomatosis and there was quite a few in numbers poor things there was nothing to eat so they chewed and eat the bark from the trees or young shoots they were to emancipated to eat the pheasant was not to bad they were fed by the keepers but you had to be careful in case you left tracks informing the keepers some one had been around.
i still had my old rifle so i would lie in the ditch that was full of frozen snow, god it was cold i was lying behind a big hedge, that kept most of the wind and cold out, it was over looking the woods when the pheasents came in range i would have them i never went at night it was to dangerous if you slipped you could break your leg there were also a few open shafts that had been used for mining if i got two brace that was enough it kept us going for a few days but it was a hard slog walking through the snow the nearest big shoot was over six miles away but we managed there was no fishing the rivers had frozen solid i even saw a car being driven down the river fools if it had given way that would of been there last but it was over seven inches thick all the lakes were frozen solid, we could not get a car on the road from where we lived the roads were hedge hight with snow that had frozen solid the council were trying to dig us out it was the first time i saw the big snow blowers in time they made there way through but only enough to drive a car the problem was by night time with the winds we were having it blew it all back blocking the road, once again it was literally a losing battle but the council struggled on god it was cold i really felt sorry for the workers we would wear brown paper under our trousers to help keep the heat in it did work you were often in snow up to your knees.
well a little more latter
In reply to Post #401
Hi Pete,
I remember my dad telling me about wearing brown paper under his trousers too !! thought he was mad at the time !! personally i have worn ladies tights under my uniform when i did my stint in the falklands !! there were a godsend let me tell you !
Another great read Pete.
Cheers,
Paddy.
Hi Pete,
I remember my dad telling me about wearing brown paper under his trousers too !! thought he was mad at the time !! personally i have worn ladies tights under my uniform when i did my stint in the falklands !! there were a godsend let me tell you !
Another great read Pete.
Cheers,
Paddy.
In reply to Post #401
Just found this thread by accidently clicking on it. loved reading your stories pete, sounds like you have led quite a life! Reading your comment of how your mate said he can no longer do the walks he loved to do reminds me of my granddad. He used to always go fishing with me and my brother when we were boys and walking through the countryside explaining to us the trees, birdlife and animals, now after his 3rd stroke he can barely go outside - sucks getting old, but at least you still have your memories and are able to share with others. Its amazing hearing stories of the past, as its hard to imagine what people like you and my granddad went through
Just found this thread by accidently clicking on it. loved reading your stories pete, sounds like you have led quite a life! Reading your comment of how your mate said he can no longer do the walks he loved to do reminds me of my granddad. He used to always go fishing with me and my brother when we were boys and walking through the countryside explaining to us the trees, birdlife and animals, now after his 3rd stroke he can barely go outside - sucks getting old, but at least you still have your memories and are able to share with others. Its amazing hearing stories of the past, as its hard to imagine what people like you and my granddad went through
In reply to Post #402
Thank you both for your kind remarks i will carry on with this thread about 1963 its really snowing here so i have a bit of time on my hands thanks again i am glad your enjoying my stories it makes it all worth while. best wishes pete
Thank you both for your kind remarks i will carry on with this thread about 1963 its really snowing here so i have a bit of time on my hands thanks again i am glad your enjoying my stories it makes it all worth while. best wishes pete
In reply to Post #401
From memory it started to thaw but it was short lived it started to snow once again and it came with a vengeance the wind blew and it piled the snow in drifts 10 to fifteen ft deep further away from our home there was rumors that there were drifts twenty ft deep i can remember digging the sheep out of the snow they had come down from the top ,of the hills and lay behind the hedgerows i was only around 21 years old i had never experienced snow and cold like this the main thing was to keep warm our Boots had dubbing rubbed all over to keep the damp and water out as i have said we used brown paper under our clothes to keep the heat in and spats on our legs from the boots up we would dig into drifts five ft deep to get the animals out it was really hard work but you helped one another in those days it amazed me how the sheep survived but they did they were warm as toast when buried when we had found most they were taken down to the farm and put in the barn with plenty of straw but after the snow came the cold east winds and did it freeze it froze the diesel in the lorries, the milk in the churns froze solid, i would be sent to get the doctor, for a prescription, it was around five miles from our house i would walk on top of the snow most of the way it was really hard and i struggled through the drifts but it was my job to see our family were safe and well you never thought about it you just got on with the job but when i arrived back i would be tired and hungry but i still had jobs to do like fetching the water from the well it never froze as it was very deep usually i would bring about five buckets back that would keep us going for the night my young brother in law would help then it was feed the chickens and clear the snow our work never ended there was always wood to chop to fire up the boiler for the weekly wash which usually was done on a Monday it was oil lights until the electricity came which it did and made a big difference to us in this weather.
I really think my in laws thought it was a miracle to have lighting after so many years using oil lights it was a big improvement but things got worse the boughs of the trees snapped of with the weight of the snow and ice we lived actually on the side of a mountain it was a beautiful place in summer but in winter it was dreadful it became quite hairy we were running out of coal there was no way we could get more so we decided that one or two trees had to go we would walk with snow over our knees eventually we would arrive at the tree we wanted we used a big cross cut me one end and the brother in law the other, after sawing half way the tree would just snap of the frost had frozen the pith solid but it kept us in fuel after thawing out in the shed, it gave us a bit of heat mixed with the coal with a bit of supplementary food we managed my mother inlaw would bake the bread with flower she had put by, you could not get any bread from the shop. a bit more latter
From memory it started to thaw but it was short lived it started to snow once again and it came with a vengeance the wind blew and it piled the snow in drifts 10 to fifteen ft deep further away from our home there was rumors that there were drifts twenty ft deep i can remember digging the sheep out of the snow they had come down from the top ,of the hills and lay behind the hedgerows i was only around 21 years old i had never experienced snow and cold like this the main thing was to keep warm our Boots had dubbing rubbed all over to keep the damp and water out as i have said we used brown paper under our clothes to keep the heat in and spats on our legs from the boots up we would dig into drifts five ft deep to get the animals out it was really hard work but you helped one another in those days it amazed me how the sheep survived but they did they were warm as toast when buried when we had found most they were taken down to the farm and put in the barn with plenty of straw but after the snow came the cold east winds and did it freeze it froze the diesel in the lorries, the milk in the churns froze solid, i would be sent to get the doctor, for a prescription, it was around five miles from our house i would walk on top of the snow most of the way it was really hard and i struggled through the drifts but it was my job to see our family were safe and well you never thought about it you just got on with the job but when i arrived back i would be tired and hungry but i still had jobs to do like fetching the water from the well it never froze as it was very deep usually i would bring about five buckets back that would keep us going for the night my young brother in law would help then it was feed the chickens and clear the snow our work never ended there was always wood to chop to fire up the boiler for the weekly wash which usually was done on a Monday it was oil lights until the electricity came which it did and made a big difference to us in this weather.
I really think my in laws thought it was a miracle to have lighting after so many years using oil lights it was a big improvement but things got worse the boughs of the trees snapped of with the weight of the snow and ice we lived actually on the side of a mountain it was a beautiful place in summer but in winter it was dreadful it became quite hairy we were running out of coal there was no way we could get more so we decided that one or two trees had to go we would walk with snow over our knees eventually we would arrive at the tree we wanted we used a big cross cut me one end and the brother in law the other, after sawing half way the tree would just snap of the frost had frozen the pith solid but it kept us in fuel after thawing out in the shed, it gave us a bit of heat mixed with the coal with a bit of supplementary food we managed my mother inlaw would bake the bread with flower she had put by, you could not get any bread from the shop. a bit more latter
In reply to Post #405
I was not working for at least ten weeks we had to survive i would be away with another chap called Dougie he had been brought up in hill country and knew the lay of the land, we would be up the small tracks struggling over snow drifts but the one thing on our minds was pheasants he had a small black terrier he would be under the hedge rows and snow he shifted a few pheasants we would shoot a few then move on the only trouble with a gun it could be heard miles away i would say to Dougie the keepers will be after us if we are not careful he would answer in broad Shropshire they wanna catch us i knows the area to well and to be honest he did the old gun he used was not the best it had seen better days the action was loose i said that gun of yours has got a bit of a headache when he shot you would see sparks and loads of smoke god knows what cartridge he was using they were white in colour when i asked him he said they were used in the war i could not get any more out of him he offered me a few i declined the kind offer but he could shoot the old gun and it was rare for him to miss there was a piece of tin wrapped around the stock and made secure by screws ah he said that the stock split i repaired it with an old fruit tin giving me a smile and a wink, dust thee think we should go for a pint at the miners arms he said what about the guns and pheasants the landlord wanna worry his used to um we may even to be able to sell a brace to him i nos him well he said in broad Shropshire.
There was about six more at the pub drinking and playing tippet does e wont ago Pete, i declined a lot of money passed hands as i watched but it was nice to be in front of the roaring fire he had a big piece of oak lying on the stone floor he would push it further in the fire as it burnt he does not use logs here only big branches i can see that i said. He only had candles or oil lights for when it went dark, he would bring the beer in a big jug then pour it into your glass it was a cosy place but i was not unhappy when we left we will go over the moors to the valley should shoot a few long tailed uns, down there wont the snow be to deep on the moors, i said . Na he said we will go to the the farm if it gets to deep my grandad is bailiff on there but we should get through all right we did but it took some time the light was going as we entered the wood we managed another four between us we had ten brace they were a bit heavy to carry but i hung my share around my shoulders with a piece of binder twine we made our way home throught the snow it had started to freeze again the fire was a welcome sight and the birds would keep us fed for the next few days. A bit more latter
I was not working for at least ten weeks we had to survive i would be away with another chap called Dougie he had been brought up in hill country and knew the lay of the land, we would be up the small tracks struggling over snow drifts but the one thing on our minds was pheasants he had a small black terrier he would be under the hedge rows and snow he shifted a few pheasants we would shoot a few then move on the only trouble with a gun it could be heard miles away i would say to Dougie the keepers will be after us if we are not careful he would answer in broad Shropshire they wanna catch us i knows the area to well and to be honest he did the old gun he used was not the best it had seen better days the action was loose i said that gun of yours has got a bit of a headache when he shot you would see sparks and loads of smoke god knows what cartridge he was using they were white in colour when i asked him he said they were used in the war i could not get any more out of him he offered me a few i declined the kind offer but he could shoot the old gun and it was rare for him to miss there was a piece of tin wrapped around the stock and made secure by screws ah he said that the stock split i repaired it with an old fruit tin giving me a smile and a wink, dust thee think we should go for a pint at the miners arms he said what about the guns and pheasants the landlord wanna worry his used to um we may even to be able to sell a brace to him i nos him well he said in broad Shropshire.
There was about six more at the pub drinking and playing tippet does e wont ago Pete, i declined a lot of money passed hands as i watched but it was nice to be in front of the roaring fire he had a big piece of oak lying on the stone floor he would push it further in the fire as it burnt he does not use logs here only big branches i can see that i said. He only had candles or oil lights for when it went dark, he would bring the beer in a big jug then pour it into your glass it was a cosy place but i was not unhappy when we left we will go over the moors to the valley should shoot a few long tailed uns, down there wont the snow be to deep on the moors, i said . Na he said we will go to the the farm if it gets to deep my grandad is bailiff on there but we should get through all right we did but it took some time the light was going as we entered the wood we managed another four between us we had ten brace they were a bit heavy to carry but i hung my share around my shoulders with a piece of binder twine we made our way home throught the snow it had started to freeze again the fire was a welcome sight and the birds would keep us fed for the next few days. A bit more latter