waiting ...

 A very pregnant guinea pig enjoying some rest in the sun this morning.

follow the herd

Dear Sheddists,

this has not been a good year for the more senior members of my bonsai guinea-pig herd. Dusty, the second eldest, died in January and sadly Fluffy, the most senior of all, munched his last just a few days ago.

It had to be said that after an early encounter with the neutering shears dear Fluffs enjoyed a pretty idyllic seven year existence. Warmed by various concubines with whom he shared his sleeping quarters he was always first out for breakfast come the morning.  Any delay in filling his vegetable bowl was met inevitably with an indignant wheek and a salutary stare.

Fluffy left behind Penelope, his final consort in a long and illustrious line. Guinea pigs fare best in the company of others so this weekend saw us at our local pet store in search of a companion for her.  Welcome then, Honey, a delightful little eight week old piglet.  She's already been adopted by Penelope and is usually to be found bedded down next to her in a generous blanket of fresh hay.

And now the really exciting news! Dusty's successor is a marvelous pure agouti (my favourite breed of pig), presented to me by my eldest daughter for my sixtieth birthday. Young Gouti, as he is now known, is fast growing up to be a fine specimen of guinea-pighood. I feel sure he will make an excellent mate for Honey in the fullness of time. And what's more I have permission from my dear wife to breed, so await news of the pitter-patter of tiny paws in the months to come!

All the best,

electrofried(mr)

 Honey

 Gouti

feeding the guinea pigs

Clearing the Augean stables

Dear Sheddists,

I'm delighted to bring you breaking news of the big move!

Clearing the Augean stables

At the top of our grounds lies a terrace of brick-built outhouses, comprising three former whippet stables and a wood store, all lovingly constructed almost a century ago by the original owner of the House, a coal-importer and dog-racing aficianado.

In spring this year we took advantage of the uncommonly mild weather to clear out two of the outhouses at the far end of the terrace.  It was a truly Herculean task involving the extraction of some twenty seven years' worth of discarded gardening, decorating and general accumulated detritus, all of which was then piled unceremoniously, load by load into the back of our camper-van for haulage to the local tip.  The landfill capacity of the West Midlands now stands sorely depleted as a consequence.

New homes

The outhouses cleared we settled upon the middle whippet-stable to house our bonsai herd of guinea pigs, having previously quartered them in the dimmest inner recesses of our garage.  At first, the pigs were homed in their original cages, a pair of two-level bijou rodent apartments, but their new surroundings befitted accommodation on a much grander scale.  So after a brief but fruitful foray into Master Amazon's finest cyber iron-mongery emporium two C&C cage-kits were delivered to the House a few days ago.

It's fair to say the pigs are delighted with their new-found estates.  The sound of happy squeaking now greets my twice daily appearance in their outhouse with fresh stocks of vegetables and hay.

Even better, their old cages might well prove handy for a little guinea pig maternity suite should my better half be persuaded.  Anyone fancy a piglet?

Best regards,

electrofried(mr)

The return of a familiar friend

 Dear Sheddists,

one of the most wonderful things I'm experiencing now I've retired is the timeless joy of being outside, working in the garden and watching the seasons change.

I'm often accompanied by a variety of wildlife and by four fattening guinea-pigs gorging on the summer grassed lawns.  The robins are never far away either, waiting for the next tasty treat to be unearthed by my spade. 

So as we repopulate the garden with butterfly-friendly flowers and clear the borders one by one the wildlife continues to flourish. A week or two ago my eldest grandson and I were to be found in the early evening sun crouched over the small pond near to the house counting the frogs who have taken up residence. No less than five were spotted!

We had another visitor yesterday, the return of Dangermouse!  It's not the first time we've seen him - he regularly attempts the slippery climb to the top of the bird-feeders by the pond. And this time, as you can see from the evidence, he was successful!

Welcome back friend!

Yours as ever,

electrofried(mr)

Small child with slightly bemused guinea pig ...

 

fathers' day and other tales

What a lovely day!

Six o'clock this morning sees me hunkered down in the electrofried kitchen composing a small homily for the Morning Service at our local Methodist Church.  Our House Group is leading today, and we've got a baptism party in too .. so in less than seven minutes I have to cover the meaning of prayer, the joy of baptism, the Holy Trinity and Fathers' Day!

I go with six common misconceptions of prayer, and a tawdry tale of my own conversion some twenty one Fathers' Days ago, then offer up the briefest of prayers myself (principally concerning my unfortunate predilection for leaving things to the last minute).  Fluffy the guinea pig plays a pivotal role in the composition of the piece.  Hugged to my manly and still pyjamed chest he provides homely comfort and a pair of uncritical ears as I practice my lines outloud, much to the bemusement of Mollie and Dylanne, the two Hounds of electrofried.

Preparation done, and two infusions of Mr PG's finest in hand I return to the electrofried bedchamber to greet my darling wife.  A veritable cornucopia of Fathers' Day presentry is produced from beneath the bed, including a rather splendid tome on the humble VW camper van and a selection of Martin Parr postcards.

Our son calls to wish me a happy Fathers' Day.  He's learning disabled, and we conduct a delightful semaphore discussion of the "hot off the press" appointment of Alec McLeish as manager to his beloved Aston Villa.  Bless!

The morning passes in a blur.  Greeting the baptism party in the car-park, the delivery of said homily, then an unforeseen and testing interval of some twenty minutes as we await the arrival of our Minister from another Church to wet the heads of two girls in floating angel dresses.  Our House Group leader and yours truly plug the gap.  A mixture of choruses, ad libs and a journey out into the congregation to ask the important question, "What are you thankful for today?" sees us safely through.

Mrs electrofried and I return home, and what joy awaits.  Family is just so precious isn't it?  Our two daughters and our two grandsons are there to greet us.  More presents, and two lovely cards.  The first is a study in blue by our eldest grandson, freshly dried from Thursday nursery.  The second, two precious set of little handprints in red paint.  How poignant that is ...  just six months ago we might have expected but one.

I choke back the tears, and open the final present of the day.  Oh my!!!  Two guinea pig leads purchased blind from the internet, one red and one ...... cover your eyes in shame, dear Fluffy ..... pink!!

He bore it stoically as eldest grandson and I walk two boars to the lawn and a browse on early summer grass.  What a day, indeed!!

wheek!

They sit on our knees, wheeking.  Two fast growing bundles of fur that remind me so much of a peaceful place.

Bertie and Fluffy arrived three months ago.  It all started with a birthday present for our eldest grandson, now aged proud two.  His mother had spotted them on condemned row in Pets'R'Us .. the place they move the stock that never sells.  We bought Ted and Fred, two waif and stray guinea pigs, for little more than a half crown.  Then promptly paid a small fortune to kit them out.

What a surprise when we brought them home.

I used to breed guinea pigs as a child.  Dusty arrived first, a superb specimen of agouti, firm in limb and squeak.  He helped me settle into the new home we downsized to in the wake of my father's premature death.   It was so calming for a confused and frightened ten year old to bring my little furry friend the daily dandelions plucked lovingly from a neglected garden outside.

You might imagine the salty tears that ran down a fresh-faced cheek when dear Dusty disappeared into the undergrowth one day during his regular constitutional on the lawn.  The sun went down, and the cage lay empty ....

Heinz arrived a week later to take his place.  A harlequined beauty, small and demure. And imagine my joy when dear Dusty re-appeared squeaking from the undergrowth a little more than a week later.  We draw a discrete pubescent veil across what followed, but suffice to say a troupe of guinea piglets were the outcome!

Alas, we must put down these childish things.  Age fifteen, I met a girl.  We fell in love and childish things were no more.  The guinea pigs withdrew a distance at the insistence of my new love until ....

It all comes full circle.  Despite her reservations, the arrival of Ted and Fred as temporary visitors to our humbe abode thawed the heart of dear mrs electrofried. They spent much of their first weekend with us ensconced in her tender embrace and consuming prodigious quantities of expensive delicatessent greenage.  The Japanese mizuna took quite a pounding from what I can recollect.

You can imagine my deep and heartfelt joy come Monday when mrs electrofried announced we were off to forage out some piglets of our own. And so, welcome Bertie and Fluffie.


One wife, three children and two grandchildren later the guinea pigs have returned - as always, wheeking!!

best regards,

electrofried(mr)