Satirical Snapshots Eventually Getting Round To Posting!
And as usual, there’s a lot of bull….
The County Fair
Nothing says you’re in England quite like a Big Wheel, a man in a suit and a bowler hat, a pretty girl in boots, and a white coated pubescent walking a giant bull. It all goes on over here.
Farmers – they’re a bit mad aren’t they? I can attest to this from an experience I had at a “Young Farmers Ball” once upon a time. A man in tweed and expensive wellies, who’s not afraid to ram his arm up inside a heifer, is of a different breed. And when drunk on cider at a posh do full of fillies in frocks they’re even worse. Maybe all they can see is cattle? Terrifying.
Off I went to the County Fair to see what was going on.
Farmers are very proud of their moo cows. Brushing them, making them stand correctly by hitting them with a stick, and smiling whilst a burly judge has a good look around them and pins a rosette on his favourite. I don’t quite know what he’s looking for… Is it going to make a good burger?
Look At The Cajones On This Beast!
My word!
Well, the farmer judge turned up in a fitted tweed two-piece and seemed to be in his element.
Get a load of this fine rump! He had a good old stroke around that and seemed to adopt this rear position with ease. Like he’d maybe done it before…
And then straight underneath for a good old feel of Mr.Bull’s swinging tackle!
Why?
Brave. And, like I said, a bit mental.
And if you’re not about the bollocks you can take a turn at pulling titties.
Or, understand the fine art of fleecing with our Nobby!
Who seems to have the Norfolk horn…
It’s all very animal farm.
However, it’s not all bestiality. For those looking for a bit of refinement there was falconry, giant tortoises, some classic cars, and a rather nice show of horse and cart riding.
I quite fancy my hand at this! How very elegant and refined! I could see that looking pretty good parked outside my house next to my truck!
This event rounded off nicely with a magnificent display of horsemanship.
Not that my mind was on sausages or anything but you can’t leave a good farming show without a bit of Lincolnshire’s finest meat.
A footlong too. They make ’em big over here. The farmers are always saying so.
Take a gander at that, my American friends! You have some competition from across the pond.
Needless to say, that kept my mouth full for a while…
Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!
Oh yes. There is bison in the Vale of Belvoir.
Buffalo? Bison? what’s the difference? As far as I can tell, those with bearded wisdom live here.
Welcome to ‘The Bouverie’. This is French for cowshed. Bouverie sounds better than cowshed just like Belvoir sounds better than beautiful view. There’s a lot of pomposity in areas voted up by The Sunday Times.
I didn’t know if Ruth was the chief bison or the owner, so I put my Vale of Behaviour in place and entered the classy cowshed.
Deal of the day for under a tenner! And with a proper fire going. You can’t knock that for an A -list area. They could have doubled that since being in Blighty’s best tabloid. Total respect.
Still maintaining rustic charm, the porcelain was outside in a decorated shipping container. With a piano. As my mother sat on the throne tinkling, I tinkled “God Save The Queen” on the old ivories. There aren’t many places you can do that. But you can in the Vale of Belvoir.
What do you need on your bison burger? Cheese. A few miles down the road and there we were at the 
And to go with the famous pork pie from Melton Mowbray, in the very heart of the Vale of Belvoir.
And, if you want to live in the Vale of Belvoir, where bison run free and there’s cheese aplenty, you can reside in this rather lovely Georgian house. Don’t mind if I do.
Where on the roadside, outside another rather spectacular house, stood a little trolley full of homegrown plants. Each with a colorfully printed out description sheet.