Diary of Becoming a Farmer. The New Millennium.
The story of a young mans efforts to become a farmer without the aid of inheritance!
We ended the last blog with me proposing to the lady that I loved.
Would the beautiful countryside persuade her? The sound of sheep bleating nearby baa sweet nothings in her ear? Would the roaring fire of the Kings Head in February melt her heart? Or just my charm and enviable wit?
I'm not sure which it was? I didn't ask either, I didn't want to shatter the illusion, I was happy.
The lady from Del Monte, she said Yes.
So ever the practical person the next question was "Did she want to get married straight away or find somewhere to live and buy a house?"
So we bought a house. We should have bought a small farm but we didn't think of it then. We probably would have been able to afford it then as well.
We then started to save for our Wedding. I was determined it was going to be a fabulous day, but that we weren't going to pay for it until our silver wedding anniversary.
Before you ask, no I'm not Scots or a Yorkshireman. But you can see the farming traits can't you!
We had a wonderful day. Glorious sunshine, fabulous family and delightful friends helped us celebrate. It was a truly great day but it went ever so fast.
We had a London Red Bus to ferry guests from their hotel to the church and then onto the reception. Very eco-friendly for the late nineties. That's not why we did it though! No. We didn't want the guests holding up the wedding getting lost on the wrong side of the dual carriageway! However the wife's cousin managed to go to the wrong golf club (15 miles away) for the reception despite having lived in the area for years. She enjoyed the desert though. The wedding didn't cost us the earth; it did cost my father-in-law a bit though.
Anyway, we were both working in media and were into the daily grind of commuting and paying off the mortgage.
For those of you from the countryside, uninitiated in the joys of London Tube and Train commuting, be grateful of your one bus an hour. Because of its lack of frequency nobody wants to use that one Bus. Which means if it coincides with you're Need to take a journey by public transport at least you get a seat...
If train drivers had to comply with the "Transport of Animals" legislature the country would grind to a halt. That's another blog though, I digress.
No, no, no don't start having a go at me. I can feel you're seethings through the web page. Have you not worked out I like irony yet. See, another farming trait.
We both learn't Spanish and were very much into Spain. Taking our holidays off the beaten tourists track and improving our language. On our Honeymoon we arrived in a mountain village of southern Spain at 10pm, just after a terrific thunderstorm. We found the café where we were to collect the keys was closed. Nobody spoke English.
I had to use my best Spanish to get us a bed for the night. Mobile phones didn't work in the village. But because I had at least made an attempt with my language the locals couldn't have been more helpful. One lady allowed me to use her telephone to call the caretaker to bring us another set of keys. By the following morning everyone in the village knew who we were. Minor celebrities.
We even thought of buying somewhere out there.
Twelve months after we had got married came the inevitable pitter-patter of tiny feet. A wonderful time, joyous.
Shortly followed by the disaster of Foot & Mouth. We didn't have time to worry about Foot & Mouth though. Our child was seriously ill!