So there I was on Sunday afternoon, spending a nice quiet time with my blogamigos, when I hear a loud mooing.
It gets louder, and louder...and louder...until next thing a big hairy head looks in the window at me!
Hells bells and buckets o' blood! Did I spend all summer working on my garden, and all autumn nurturing winter veg seedlings to have the whole bloomin' lot munchagobbled up in ten minutes flat- roots and all- by a bothersome bunch o' bovines?
Did I heck!
I don't keep a hockey stick in the front hall for nothing you know, and its not just hockey balls I hit with them either!
I tell you Queen Maeve and Granouille had nothing on the virago who belted out to protect her precious garden! Them cows never stood a whisker of a chance! I may have been the strongest hockey player with the worst aim in the history of the Grammar but the players in Connaught knew to run when they saw me coming...cows included!
I hope those cows don't know that motto about 'he who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day' because I'll be waiting! I'm tellin' ya!