So a couple of things;
I forgot to mention the hotel near to where we stayed , the Izaak Walton had a fantastic selection of mounted fish, to my dismay I learnt they were plaster casts of actual fish, I believed them to be real, this disappointed me but I didn’t let it ruin the weekend as J had recently purchased a stuffed and mounted fox for £45 at a car boot sale, its always good to see J cultivating a new collection, the fox stands next to the Grey Heron. I must point out these are not new taxidermy items as that would be cruel and illegal. Someone broke into his house last year and faced with an absolutely chaotic scene of sensory overload in every room of his house scarpered without taking anything, there is nothing there for the drug user to pinch and sell. I digress; the clientele sported a suspiciously high proportion of coloured corduroy trousers, and waistcoats acting as girdle to rein in the grotesque stomachs of some of the well heeled chaps. Spaniels roamed the comfortable bar as we supped on glorious local ales and after the big walk a couple of very tasty Blue Moon wheat lagers, with a slice of orange for crazy citrus contrast, I never saw that coming and when asked if I wanted a slice, panicked and agreed. I will never drink Blue Moon without, t’was a revelation and a revolution concurrently.
Down to the business at hand; It appears there is another agency trying to lay claim to the woodlands we, the Ministry, are official custodians to. A group calling themselves “The Forestry Commission” They’ve been stapling and laminating and ordering and generally making a nuisance of them selves, in our woods.
This is little England and we’ed thank you for keeping out of our business, where lets say you may feel slightly uncomfortable, out of your comfort zone. Urbanites; the forests are not for the likes of you.
“This is a local wood for local people, we’ll have no trouble here.”
So after much deliberation and highlighting of potential fractures within the group, we realised that the group apart is unsustainable and if split then surely a civil war of the likes none of us have ever witnessed before, sticks will be stuck into fences, lego men removed, sculptures toppled, stones unturned, a war of attrition would surely lead to a stalemate of tit for tat, silly conversations in pairs which of course does matter, the dubious facts of the day will be either complete rubbish or unremittingly factual. We can’t have that. And so after a short discussion regarding the solidity of the group and the private realisation that the group is as nothing without its members, it was decided to keep these type of dangerous conversations to a minimum; careless talk costs lives, etc.
We have decided to draw up our own forest rules, laminate them, M has access to a laminating machine, and stick them up next to the, ahem, “Commission of Forestry” rules. This will surely raise a few eyebrows and common sense will prevail, plus it may get a few folk talking, and more importantly the Message of the Ministry will be out there, in the place where it thrives in the underground, like the very same bluebell bulbs, dormant for most of the year to be re-discovered in abundance in the springtime.
So people get real, the Woodland Titans are stirring, and with them will come an army of Barking Muntjacs, Squirrels, Foxes and “Oh look a bird”, not forgetting to mention the squadrons of opalescent beetles and the 17 million flies we each have on stand by. The smiley face flower folk, normally hidden from view are yawning ready to embrace the “Peoples Popular front of the Commission of Forestry”.
We are working on a poster, tomorrow is the Friday Fictioneers and maybe i’ll have a go at some rules too, rather than hanging around the hotel bar, and bothering people.