The Pigeon Man of North Sea Camp

Well, as per usual, there is no news as yet whether I'll be able or allowed to go to Buddy's ranch for my overnight stays - my so-called home leaves - which may have to be spent at a hostel instead. How can a stay at a hostel be called a home leave? Let's forget about the people I would be expected to live with in an unfriend1y and impersonal setting, and the town (or is it a city) which I had hoped never to see again - let's just forget all  that.

Well, nobody ever said it would be easy.

Ha! I'm now the owner of the unofficia1 title of "Pigeon Man". I've built a pigeon loft, I've made cages and - Da-daaa! - I've even captured my first fourteen pigeons. Well, there WAS fourteen - one got away on Saturday. As soon as I get it back, I'll make it my first Cat A pigeon.

It's all being done in the old stable block, and I have done it all in my retirement by recycling all manner of wood, broken lockers and various bits of mesh found abandoned all around the farm and environs. The powers that be are quite delighted at my industry and scavenging AND they are discussing creating a place for raptors and another for exotic birds. I suppose that means things like parrots, cockatiels and maybe budgies.

However, I'll be "The Pigeon Man".

The project, as I put it to the governor, is that I will arrest every pigeon around the place, a suggestion which delights the farmer and gardener - and everyone else who is being robbed blind by the creatures. I won't bother the ring-necked doves or the woodpigeons - or any other birds - just the pigeons. I shall breed the older birds and when I get young birds out of them, in the August sitting, I shall give the older birds to the raptor man to feed the raptors and train the younger birds to the loft. Then the governor will get me several pairs of white doves to breed. The plan is to rent out these doves - when I've got enough of them - to wedding planners to be released at weddings in the area. Of course the white doves will be trained by then simply to fly back to their loft - my loft - ready for the next wedding.  Oh yes, the governor can clearly see that it is a nice little earner.

So, I am "The Pigeon Man".

Yesterday I went to Buddy's for the day, and enjoyed myself immensely. Went and did a bit of shopping, bought myself a pair of shoes and went into a shop which sells everything for a quid! (Not the shoes - they were a bit more expensive.)

I got four items and when I got to the check-out till I only had £3.50p in change and a twenty pound note. Dennis was with me, so I said to a rather nice young girl on the till, "I've only got either three and a half quid or a twenty. If you settle for the three and a half quid I'll give you a kiss - you won't get a better deal than that anywhere."

The young girl was blushing but clearly enjoyed the joke.

Anyway, she took the three and a half quid but didn't want the kiss. It just goes to show - youngsters of today don't know a good thing when they see one. Where else could you get a kiss for 50p?

In the afternoon I went for a ride on Buddy and got on and off without the aid of my usual geriatric crate - I felt quite pleased about that.

So, will I get home leaves to Buddy's ranch?

A good question - and we are waiting for word from The Wallace on the subject. We can only hope for the best.

In the meantime, I'll continue catching the pigeons in my own, hand-made, self-designed pigeon trap.  I'm "The Pigeon Man" now you know!

The Voice In The Wilderness