A wee drop more....

Actually, it all got a bit much as the day went on.....

In the far distance of the above photo, this is where the river started flowing in,
resulting in our fields joining up with the flow of the river.
We are tired today,
not to worry, 
the river is dropping, 
the fields are drying,
and hopefully we will be able to get our sheep, goats, and cow onto this field soon
because the grazing over on Station Field is zilch,
and the DIY hay is just about done,
and we need some sun because the lambs are weakening in the cold and wet
even though they are warm at night.
This has been a difficult winter, 
much worse that last year, with -15C temperatures,
but very warm and sunny during the day.
This year, with this wet, the animals have suffered.
Nearly done now.
Looks like the weather is going to settle down
then the river can slow down
Home Field can be opened up again
and no doubt the animals will be hooraying as shall we.

We like living by the river,
and we know that we will occasionally have water on Home Field,
but not twice in three weeks,
that is silly.

and this is how the Adour looks for most of the time.

Have forgotten about the bacon in the fridge,
so am off to have a look at it.

Then we have a go at mending the feet of three of the goats,
then we shall retrieve my big pot from Sarah's place down the road,
because yesterday we joined forces in true British Dunkirk spirit,
and while they rescued their sundry animals from the water
I sorted out a communal lunch for nine. 
They returned my efforts by cooking dinner for us later on,
which we were grateful for
because we had just helped a plonker of a French chappie,
who had insisted on driving his posh BMW through the water on the lane, 
which was waist high in some places.
How did we know it was waist high?
Because Lester got the tractor out to 'rescue' him,
and get had to get down from the tractor to see if he could get a chain anchored on the car  so he could tow it out for the plonker-man.
He couldn't, mostly because it was getting dark,
and river water is freezing, 
well it would be because it comes down from the Pyrenees,
so I stood calf deep in the water on the lane,
to guide Lester back onto dry tarmac
lest he tip his tractor wheels into one side or another of the lane's ditches.
just like the plonker-man's had. 
So then it was down to Sarah's place
where be camels, goats, chickens, pigs and lamas, 
and in her place there was a blazing wood burner,
and a baby potbelly piglet, one mum potbelly with baby potbelly, four huge dogs, 
several cats and kittens,
chaos, mud, and warmth.
And we celebrated the fact that we had come through another flood, 
which was far worse than that of three weeks ago,
and that our houses were full of muddy wellies, soggy clothing, and tired bodies,
but that we were still up at the wicket,
building new lives,
running smallholdings
down here in SW France. 
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