On the 12th day of Christmas, O&G were gone...

On the 12th day of Christmas, O&G were gone...

I feel a little sad. I did quite enjoy looking for them, herding them, following their exploits, and getting into pickles with them.

Perhaps it was unfair to call them Osborne & Gove...they were n't that stupid. Maybe next year, I 'll call them Ed and David?

On the 11th day of Christmas there was no breakfast...

On the 11th day of Christmas there was no breakfast for O&G. And there had been no supper either. It was the end of the road; a short but hopefully relatively comfortable road (a road with French aires, not British smelly laybys; that kind of thing).

Do not read / look on if well you know...

So, armed with our chopped down cone, the bible (Seymour's Self-Sufficiency for Dreamers and Realists) and a big stick, we cried havoc, and let slip the dogs of war...

For more pics and a sideways video see http://jamesellson.blogspot.com/

On the 10th day of Christmas, enough was enough...

On the 10th day of Christmas, enough was enough. I was fed up with escape attempts, foiling escape attempts and dealing with escapes.

Not only were they flying out, but I discovered a tunnel. O&G (sorry, Dinner) had apparently been going around pretending to gobble but actually depositing small amounts of earth (from their mouths, not via a complex pull cord system in their trousers (turkeys don't normally wear trousers, so it would have raised my suspicions)).

Upon discovering their tunnel attempt, I decided not only to concrete the underneath of their house, but to call in the brotherhood.

Actually, the Unclehood. And we clipped their wings.

"You will not escape now, you Tommie turkeys..."

On the 9th day of Christmas O&G again left their paddock...

On the 9th day of Christmas O&G again left their paddock for what seemed the 100th time. They loved going back to their roots (the next-door farm) and politicking with their brethren. And, if they had their way, they would continue into the night.

But, Farmer Giles (me) had other ideas. On this day, as with their previous escapes, I went to find them and herd them back.

They often congregated in a greenhouse, and that's where I cornered them.

However, by now they were a little heavier, and they had other ideas. Smashing! They broke out of the greenhouse.

But, I had the last laugh. When I finally got hold of them, there was no supper. And no more friendly O&G - just Dinner (Christmas). Ho Ho Ho...

On the 8th day of Christmas, O&G left their paddock...

On the 8th day of Christmas, O&G left their paddock for the 1st time.

They had work to do. Well work as opposed to eating, sleeping and drinking. Their work, like that of their political namesakes was of a supervising, cajoling, bullying, watching, sitting around drinking cups of coffee type as opposed to actually doing anything...they went to check up on the builders re-pointing our rear elevation.

And no, this blog is not a self-parody. We do have 2 turkeys (at the moment).

On the 7th day of Xmas, O&G, now a little bolder...

On the 7th day of Xmas, O&G, now a little bolder, wandered a bit further. But, like their fellow wanderers lured into the unknown by the prospect of treasure (Adam & Eve, Little Red Riding Hood, Dorothy, Glenn Mulcaire), they were bound to run into trouble.

For them it was the rowan tree, and its enclosure. Tasty though the rowan berries are, once into the enclosure, there was no escape (they could drop down but not fly up in such an enclosed space).

So, I had to rescue them. Hardly in my shining armour, but I did have to grapple with barbed wire.

And, for them, confinement to barracks for the rest of the day.

On the 6th day of Christmas I thought O&G had multiplied...

On the 6th day of Christmas I thought O&G had multiplied. Or that earlier that morning I had checked the quality of too much of the brandy for my Christmas pud.

However, the truth was that O&G's relations had come to visit. Argumentative bickering, flapping and posturing ensued.

A cacophony sure enough, but nothing compared to PMQs.

On the 5th day of Christmas, O&G were hungry...

On the 5th day of Christmas, O&G were hungry. Like their more famous namesakes, they put their noses (well bills and snoods) in the trough. Repeatedly.

On the 4th day of Christmas, the young turks...

On the 4th day of Christmas, the young turks (but hardly Young Turks) O&G became more confident, and strutted a little further afield. They flapped a bit, and were clearly full of puff and blah.

On the 3rd day of Christmas, Osbourne & Gove left their house...

On the 3rd day of Christmas, Osbourne & Gove left their house for the first time. Free-range and free-loading they definitely were, but whether they were free-thinking seemed to be doubtful.

On the second day of Christmas we filled the turkey house...

On the second day of Christmas we filled the turkey house with two turkeys, and named them Osborne & Gove (after the Tory ministers in order that we would have no hesitation in sending them to the Dispatch Box).

On the 1st day of Christmas, we built a turkey house...

On the 1st day of Christmas, we built a turkey house (from old pallets, our old roof batons and old dining room floor boards), and named it Number 11.