
i miss all the fun #2
have just returned to the farm to find the gate to our drive open.
the peaceful, countryside idyl broken...
and no sign of james (who's back and doing security once more).
mrs.perou ran out to meet me in a distressed state.
took a while to get the sense of it:
some guy/s had been screaming stuff at the house (from the gate) so mrs.perou unleashed the beast (well, stratford) who uncharacteristically ran to the gate barking.
then the screaming turned into 'i'm going to kill you, you fucking bitch...you're dog's shit...we're going to kill your dog...we're going to kidnap your dog...you fucking bitch....we'll fucking kill you.'
(had actually thought we were leaving this kind of thing behind?)
james (who had been showering) got out in time to see their car drive off and gave chase in his van.
having pieced together the puzzle of WTF? we now assume these were gypsies who were screaming to attract stratford's attention having failed to attract his attention in a more quiet manner...so they could dognap him for a dogfight.
this is my greatest fear for stratford.
i hate the fact there's people in the world that won't let you get on without interfering with you and yours.
i am very unamused that i was 10 minutes too late to join in the 'fun'.
the hawthorn perimeter and electric gate can't come quick enough.
(i was late home because i''d had a couple of meetings in town and then called in on che before hitting the 'after-7pm-rush-hour'...curses.)
oh...this will amuse you...frances is up for a david bailey shoot (as a model).
and this is the view from our bedroom window