Showing posts with label mole catcher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mole catcher. Show all posts

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Day in the Country


Got to the Stables early and the barn cats galloped for their food; you' think they were starving, which they aren't. Regardless, it was neat to watch them race across the grass and better still to approximate to the same thing on horseback.

galloping cat

Later in the day, towards dusk, the air filled with birds - a cacophony of the things, fiercely strutting about and pecking for food. There must have been hundreds of them around the parsonage; incredibly noisy but interesting to watch.


After watching them carry on for a time I drove off to say Mass and was a little worried to see several pews full of silent, reverent people when I arrived at the church. Was I late?! No, they were just keen and intent on saying their prayers. I love that.

You'll forgive me for not commenting on the unfolding Warmist scandal, yet more attacks by Muslim 'martyrs', Episcopal priests praying to Aztec 'saints' (and Muslim martyrs) and a strange old woman in the diocese of D.C. who celebrated a neo-pagan 'Croning' liturgy in the National Cathedral. More of that anon.

Keep pulling the trigger.

LSP

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Mole Catcher


Years ago, in the hoary antiquity of the mid '90s, I found myself taking a break from parish life and working for a small company in London that was all about something called Lotus Notes. A lot of fun and led by the charismatic IT, Marketing and PR chieftan, MCP - Michael Chapman Pincher. But times moved on and we went our separate ways, me to America and a return to priestly life, MCP to IT Supremacy somewhere in London. Splendid.

Then things changed; after a cataclysmic '07/08 we both ended up living in the country, Texas and Pershore respectively, each suffering from multiple, vicious back wounds. Anyhow, I visited him a few weeks back and as we hadn't seen each other for years it was straight down to a riverside pub to swap grisly knife in the back stories whilst admiring the sunlit pastoral idyll that is that part of Worcestershire. Beautiful. Then I noticed that my erstwhile guv'nor's hands were strangely calloused, as though he'd become a Son of the Soil, which is exactly what had happened.

When the IT thing ended MCP was thrown back to Pershore, his wits and the land. The Corporate World had turned his back on him - not so the country and he found new employment as a Trapper, a mole trapper. I understand it started off in a small way and then moved up; when I was there the business was expanding to rabbits and now, evidently, squirrels.


So, when I wasn't busy taking pictures of Aghas, myself in the mirror and enjoying the excellent company and house of Mr. & Mrs. MCP, it was down to the new office - the mole fields.

These had been digging up land used to pasture race horses and had to go - 12 traps per beast, which seemed intense but I gather they're pretty wiley. As were the rabbits who were conspicious by their absence; no doubt sensing the risk of death they were keeping their heads down. Still, nothing daunted, we set up a trap at the warren and paused for a moment's reflection. I asked my friend if he'd changed his theological point of view from believing that "it's all down to carbon boys" to something else: 

"So what d'you think about God these days?" After a long pause and gaze at the field he replied, "Well, I spend a lot of time on my knees right now..."

Excellent and well done - I'd say that the Deity has shown uncommon kindness; after all, what's better? Hideous corporate world, or living in a beautiful house in a country town whilst carving out a new niche in edible (rabbit/squirrel) pest control?

Massive respect to Michael and Becky Chapman Picher.

LSP

PS. More from the MCP homestead later.