On a Lighter Note:- Hairy Pumpkins!

A was gardening the other day. This activity, for those that are not rural or conversant, involves putting nose 6 inches away from soil and doing things. Out of the corner of her ear and through a hedge much depleted in its folliage by the late onset of autumn came a curious sight with following dialogue.

Short sturdy man, hat firmly fixed on head, was scuttling his way along the path that joins church and mill in our pueblo. He was followed by a woman without hat but with stick, hurpelling along, trying to keep up. Man says words to the effect of - Come on you hairy pumpkin; try and keep up!

A was shocked, raised nose from soil, and stretching to her full height was about to view the bounder in full sight, possibly even clear her throat. The patriarchal caravanserai passed and at that point A noticed both figures had hairy little pumpkins in tow. Obviously the fierce, proud and faithful West Suffolk Sugar Beet Hound; not a breed recognised by the Kennel Club but equally not one to be triffelled with. It is a small part of the story of how the Hun was finally defeated. I can say no more.

The image kept us in fits.