Graham

Horrendous. Thoughts to his family and workmates.

Money for old rope:001_smile: Sorry...if I were nearer you could have one. Try and get hold of polyprop as it floats.

Looks like mildew on the leaves.

Does anyone mill f/e cladding and if so what have you got? I'm after approx 35m2 in larch/douglas/chestnut or similar for a shed.

Or her:001_smile:

Or just leave it on. Amusing to watch a flock jump two feet and carry on as normal after a bang:001_smile: I don't bother shooting nowadays...just work my dog. I'm not even convinced they do much damage to rape. Even after grazing a field it seems to come back stronger than ever. The smell of a pigeon's crop full of rape could put you off eating them forever!

If I wanted to cross a continent off road it would be the only choice.

Now I've shot and eaten plenty but I'm not even sure how decoying over stubble etc stands nowadays. Evidently you have to prove you've taken all other steps to discourage them from eating your crop before shooting. Surely decoying them would be classed as 'sport'? I've had my fill of any numbers game now but good luck to any that still do it. As for the original question I'm pretty sure all nesting birds are protected inc those on vermin quarry lists. You just have to be careful:sneaky2:

I think all birds are covered by Act. You never know who's watching.

Found eggs in every month of the year! Good luck:001_smile:

I imported a secondhand stumpgrinder about ten years ago. Found it straightforward (apart from a little scare when it went missing on Chicago docks). Let UPS deal with it all from Chicago onwards. They shipped it to Manchester and dealt with Customs and import duty. As I remember it cost £200 to ship and deal with customs. The duty was paid to UPS and we picked it up from their Manchester depot. Easy:001_smile:

I wonder how many navigate using white:001_smile: I remember a charter skipper we used to use being worried about this as on a full week he was using 1000 gallons of red.

I'd cut a piece of willow in preference to your options. Aren't they all a bit short in the grain? Maybe the oak would do.

Mine's the same. Put a solid flywheel and clutch kit on it. Dump the dual mass one.

Barbarossa was indeed a larger operation which failed....even after starving to death millions of Red Army pows!

By the way...off topic but just thought about it. The Bramley apple I have that you advised on is fruiting beautifully. Cut and tied down branches:thumbup1:

I'd leave as is. The more clearance you create the closer the wagons will get. Nice bit of fracture pruning there:001_smile: As for the ivy I always leave for wildlife unless it's compromising the integrity of the tree.

Really nice. Have always liked these but you need a big kitchen

Oh that smell of washing on a monday:thumbup: Hay, creosote and the smell of an oil dressed landing net I opened on Christmas morning. Coming downstairs at 6am in the winter: my Dad had lit the fire, made a cup of tea and left a few Morning Coffee biscuits while he went to feed the stock. Shotgun cartridges, spent fireworks...and the best of all; food scraps mixed with mash and some hot water for the chickens.

Six is field maple.

You're lucky to have them. The last time I saw them was in France when they were mobbing the green glow from my old Nokia phone :-)

There may be no sign of FFB. Have a look for oozing from beneath bark. Sequestered iron will give it an immediate boost if chlorotic.

As an aside from my other post I remember a German Luger pistol kept in the cubby hole by the fireplace in my uncles house. A war momento. We used to take it out and look at it. My uncle and his brother used it as their hare hunting weapon! They never hit one but used to send up clouds of dust from the drillings:001_smile: That pistol is buried still in my Gran's old cottage garden. One day someone will dig it up and wonder where it came from.

Not really closely connected to D-Day but a few stories. My dad was born in 1906 so at the start missed out due to age and being a farm bailiff...he was ARP warden...Dads' Army stuff:-) My dads' uncle was a sniper in the Great War who survived the war but ended his days in a padded cell. Sniping on the front line sent many a man mad. My Mom was drafted into tank production in the English Electric factory. One day the factory took a hit from a lone bomber with incendiaries and machine gun fire. The bomber was returning from a raid on Manchester. Her brother (my Uncle Percy) was stationed on the south coast on Anti-aircraft duty and as dawn broke they managed to shoot down the very same bomber that an hour or so earlier had bombed the factory. That's the story he told me anyway and I like to think it's true. I worked with a few guys who had done their duty. One day I was sat with having snap with an old contractor and the conversation got around to the war. He started to tell me about his part as a Spitfire pilot. He broke down in tears but the gist of was that his closest friend who he was flying with in the Battle of Britain was hit by enemy fire. He bailed out and whilst he was parachuting down was shot with machine gun from the plane that had downed his aircraft. Tommy (the contractor) witnessed this, lost his temper and used the whole of his ammo ration on that enemy aircraft. He was court martialled for it and spent time in gaol but he said he never forgot the looks on faces. He showed me the horrendous scars up his back he took from bullets and shrapnel. Another chap I worked with occasionally was involved in the D-Day landings. They were making their way through France and the job was to make sure villages were cleared. He and colleagues went into a french farmhouse and made their way upstairs. They surprised a man in bed with a woman. He said they looked at each other and then the man reached out for something. He shot him dead. Turned out he was a Nazi officer but was reaching for a cigarette case.

In April he will come; in May he sings all day; in June he alters his tune; in July he flies away. I remember my mum reciting that to me. This month you'll start to hear a bubbling sound he makes. Once you've heard it you'll recognise it. Sad that as a kid the cuckoo was everywhere and now he's disappearing fast.