Thursday, 24 May 2018

Countryfile: 4. Wood Festival

I've got Wood 

Now that we live in the countryside we felt like we needed to attend a festival. Festivals are all the rage apparently, and if you don't go to a festival you're not young anymore. Or hip.

The particularly appealing prospect of this festival weekend was that the weather promised to be sunny and warm and it delivered. What wasn't so appealing was the arctic temperatures that greeted in the evening! Now I love camping in a tent, what I don't love is having to dress in the confined space of a tent in negative degrees Celsius and fumbling around in the dark trying to find a place to piss. I can't believe anybody enjoys that. And if they tell you they do, they're probably wearing loose, flowery pyjamas, sporting some sort of face paint, say na-ma-stey at the end of each conversation, smile way too much and even then, they're still lying.

What I love about camping is making fires outside my tent, cooking food on these fires and sitting around these fires drinking beer.

Vegan, gluten free, non-dairy, environmentally just kidding, just normal sausages.

Fire, Man and the Moon

The wood festival wasn't only about wood. There was also some hippie cuntry music that played out of a small wooden (obvs) shed. Some of them were actually really rather good.

However the highlight of the weekend would have to be Colin and Olive and their gong showers. To quote these enlightened spirits from their website, "As a symbol the gong represents wholeness. As a sound it is a calling to consciousness".

The Wood Festival is gonging brilliant and it has definitely called to my consciousness. Bring on next year!!

Thursday, 17 May 2018

Countryfile: 3. Barbeque Banter

Now that we have the necessary space I felt I should get a proper barbeque. One that makes me feel manly and look cool while I burn my daughters sausages.

The only thing that worries me is weather I've missed this years window. We had that 3 day, 17 degrees heat wave a while back and so I might have to resign myself to barbequeing in the rain in my skiing gear.

I did a fair bit of research on what barbeque to get. Gas, coal, smoker, bunsen burner or flamethrower. In the end I went for a combination of all of them. My BBBBQ has a gas bit, a coal bit, an open flame hot plate and a smoke drum attached to the end. Boom! How f**king manly am I?!

I can now act like a proper barbeque know-it-all twat eventhough I know more about origami and flower arranging than I do about barbequeing a shoulder of lamb properly. But you see, that doesn't matter, it's all about having a big one. And I've got a big one.

Countryfile: 2. Lawn wars

Now that I’ve moved to the country and I have a garden larger than a London telephone box I have fully embraced the neighbourly battle of best lawn in show. The saying “the grass is always greener” has taken on a whole new meaning to me.

I took my lawnmower research just about as serious as I’ve taken anything over the past 10 years.  Ask me anything about lawnmowers. The Bosch Rotak electric mowers? Sure, a sexy brand, but a bitch to assemble! The Einhell GC-PM 46 S Self Propelled Petrol Lawnmower? Yeah it sounds good, but unless you want to send it back because the collection box keeps dropping off you’re going to want to steer clear of it.

My neighbour, who's a GP, has clearly taken his medical background and applied it to his lawn. It is immaculate. Not a disease (weed) in sight. A lovely, fluffy, healthy green strip of grass. The bastard. I'm convinced he trims the edges with toenail clippers in the dead of the night when no one can see him and make fun of him. I'm also not sure why he's so desperate for such a perfect lawn. He's about 80 years old and doesn't even use it for anything! That's like keeping a super expensive race bike in the garage, all oiled up and clean but never actually riding it. I on the other hand want a flawless evergreen lawn so I can practice my chipping and lag putting.

So my mission is to create the most perfect piece of grass ever seen but mainly just to annoy my neighbour. I have already sent an email to the green keeper of the Masters for some useful tips.

Wednesday, 16 May 2018

Countryfile: 1. Chopping Wood

Is there anything more manly than chopping wood? 

I chopped wood the other day.
Axe in hand. Lumberjack shirt unbuttoned. Serious look on my face. I had a beer after.

You could be a weedy little marketing twat but standing over that wood block you feel like a hairy Canadian logger who is about to chop some serious effing wood and then shag his wife not once but three times.

This is definitely a big part of why I moved to the country. I feel more man than I did in the city. In London I felt the progressive, social pressure of not being feminist enough. If I had stayed any longer I was in serious danger of becoming a transgender tree hugger that didn’t eat meat, commuted to work on a skateboard, grew a stupid beard, wore trousers 2 sizes too small and refused to use male toilets because they offended people who don’t understand biology.  

So basically I saved my manliness by moving to the country. Now I can chop wood and hang around my garage pretending to do manly shit, like moving my tools around and charging my drill.

I wonder if I should buy a chainsaw, it could come in handy...