Wai Write

Roy Farman Men’s Shed Writing Group

A few days ago I was driving along a country road not far from Masterton when I saw, crossing a gateway, a cock pheasant in all its resplendent plumage. one of the most beautiful of game birds. I’ve seen many such birds especially in England on stubble after the grain has been harvested in the autumn, but have only eaten pheasant on one occasion.

For a couple of years in the late 1960s my wife and I returned to England and lived in Staff ordshire where I worked in a veterinary practice attending to mainly farm animals. One of our farmer clients was a baronet, an hereditary title, [ let’s call him Sir Arthur], who lived with his wife on a small dairy farm.

Both were in the late 70s -early 80s and had no children so the title but no land was to go to Sir Arthur’s nephew on his death.

Sir Arthur had been a well-known amateur National Hunt jockey in his younger days. He told me that he had been in the British army at Gallipoli with the ANZAC so was interested that I had been to New Zealand.

During an outbreak of Foot and Mouth his cattle became infected so all the stock were slaughtered and re-stocking had only just occurred. It had been a very traumatic and distressing time for such farmers.

Sir Arthur and Lady Sarah were a rather eccentric old couple cherished by the farm workers and ladies who worked in the house. All the cows had names as well as ear tag numbers and if you walked past the piggery you reached over to scratch the sow’s back. It was that sort of farm.

In the kitchen seats were at a premium as most were occupied by a Jack Russell, a Lurcher or Greyhound, and to disturb one of the dogs put one at risk from a growl and a bite.

I was on the farm one day treating a lame cow when one of the stockman rushed in to say that there had been a bad accident outside the front gate. From my car I grabbed a roll of cotton wool, a bottle of the yellow disinfectant Acrifl avine and a large horse bandage, then ran to the front gate. Lady Sarah, of whom it was said drove a car imperiously as if it was a four-in-hand, had driven out of the gateway without looking and collided with a passing car which ended up down the road in a ditch. Its driver was shaken but unhurt and his car was rather bent.

Lady Sarah was slumped over the steering wheel and had a big gash in her forehead. I poured some Acrifl avine on to a wedge of cotton wool and slapped it over the wound then wrapped the large bandage around her head to hold it in place.

Our last view of her was with a dribble of yellow running down her cheek from beneath the bandage as the ambulance shortly arrived and carted her off to hospital. A few days later I received a letter from her ‘thanking me for saving her life’! Two or three months went by and Christmas was not far away. I was on the farm again and Sir Arthur came to tell me that there was a gift for me that he had left on the front seat of my car. I thanked him and later found it was a dead cock pheasant. Apparently he purchased several from a game shop in nearby Ashby-de-la-Zouch and gave them to those to whom he felt indebted. [It was common practice in those days to send such birds with labels round their necks by post!]

As recommended I hung the bird up for a few days then plucked it. The smell was neither inspiring nor mouthwatering. My wife had found a recipe for cooking it and we had invited some vet friends to dinner to share our present thinking that they would be sympathetic if the pheasant didn’t live up to expectations. The aroma from the oven did little to stimulate one’s taste buds but in fact when served up it was delicious.

Lady Sarah soon recovered from her accident and was able to get back driving on the road to terrorise the locals.

PHOTO/ADOBE.STOCK.COM

Wai Write is a reader-contributed section of Wairarapa Midweek containing creative ÿ ction and short stories. If you have a ° air for writing, send your short stories (up to 600 words) to midweek@age.co.nz to be considered for publication.

Wai Write Wai Write

CLOTHING CLOTHING

WE ARE BACK IN LEVEL 3 Give Brent a call for anything that you may need.

Pay by credit card. Sample photos Sample photos Click and Collect or we can arrange a courier

MICHAEL HOUSTOUN, Piano WILMA SMITH, Violin | MONIQUE LAPINS, Violin GILLIAN ANSELL, Viola | ZEPHYR WILLS, Viola MATTHIAS BALZAT, Cello | ANDREW JOYCE, Cello and BRIDGET DOUGLAS, Flute

17 SEPTEMBER - 19 SEPTEMBER 2021

MARTINBOROUGH TOWN HALL

MORE INFORMATION AND TICKETS AT

WWW.MARTINBOROUGHMUSICFESTIVAL.CO.NZ

Please note due to the suspension of the trans-Tasman travel bubble, we have had to make some changes to our artist line-up and the concert programme.