My annual rant, and I'll have another if I want.

OK so you don't like Big Brother which is about real people and how they really behave, but you do like reading books about imaginary people and all the imaginary stuff that happens to them. I don't get that. So and so famous author really manages to give you the feeling of the character in his novel, and isn't it marvellous how he captures the atmosphere of the time, so he's really great and you all get really excited about it. But when you can actually watch the real unimagined true character of a real human being who actually exists and is not just in someones imagination then you're not impressed. It's a bit like going all swoony over a painting of a sunset when you can step out of your house and watch one for real.

I just get really pissed off with all the pseudo intellectual snobbery that surrounds reality TV. You know what I think it is in the end - it's because you can't sit around at your dinner parties and score points by discussing the finer points of how jolly clever some pretentious writer is blah blah blah. Sorry guys but real people interest me and figments of other peoples imagination don't. And I fucking hate books anyway.

And what about the new housemates who arrived last night - the scottish tranny and the blonde eye candy from London. Yes!

She is a top-spec Bitch

Yes it's that time again, thirteen glorious weeks of Big Brother. The early money is on Pete, the guy with Touretts. He just looks a million miles ahead of the rest of them, but you know, experience tells us things can change very quickly in the BB house.

Imogen, described by George as 'top-spec bitch' let herself down a bit by pairing up just that little too quickly, but it's beginning to look like she's pulling back a tad from that one. She is a beauty, and it's kind of strange that she puts herself about so much. In my 'sensible middle-aged man' mode I started going on about how, if she's not careful she'll just dissappear into a life of endless shagging around. That got me to thinking about the way things are today - you know, to find out if you like a guy you just go with them for a few days and see. It's kind off sensible really isn't it. Better find out then rather than the day you get married and you've never even spent the night together.

There are one or two others in the house who I like. The middle aged lady with the absolutely huge false boobs is actually quite a nice lady, although she is a little on the fragile side and is beginning to look slightly strange chasing the young boys. I quite like the posh but not that posh sloany bird whose mother gave her a £360,000 flat in London. She's paired up with MCP Mikey - he's actually quite a nice guy too except for his weird views on woman - she's now backing out of that one too!

Anyway, it's looking tough for Bonneh - she'll be out tonight - god knows what her highlights are going to be.

Don't tell my friends I've got a blog

Six months in blogworld and I'm still not convinced that this is a particularly cool thing to be doing. I'm not from New Zealand, I'm not from Canada, and I'm not on anti-depressants, so what the hell am I doing having a blog.

Now I don't want to sell Ruby

Four years ago we rescued Ruby. Now she has grown into a big strong horse and we have just started riding her. By the way that is not me riding, that is my friend Manny, he is a really cool rider.

Anyway we have far too many horses so we have to sell some. But today some people came to see Rubes and I just thought NO, she deserves the best and that means she has to stay here. Of course I know I will have to sell her but I so, so want her to go to a good home.

I find it really difficult to sell horses because I just know that there are so few people out there that know how to be with horses to make them feel good. You know, if you breed a foal or if you have owned a horse for a long time, when you sell them they have to get used to a whole new way that some other humans behave, and some of those people are just crazy when it comes to horses.

It's a bit like when you have to send your kids to school when all they have been used to is rational human beings with sound values, and then all of a sudden they have to deal with a whole load of crazy stuff like competition, success and failure, and ego, and power trips and all the bollocks that goes to make up our society. I really didn't want to send my kids to school but then I decided that they might as well get stuck in - sooner or later they would have to learn about the way people behave.

With horses it's a bit different - they can go their whole lives living in quite a small world. They can go from birth to death and never even realise that there are mad people out there. I know I'm sounding a bit self-righteous here, and obviously I could be completely wrong, but I'm pretty sure I know a happy horse when I see one - that's my job.

Progress on the gatepost.

Well, never mind plan B, it turned into one of those long running, ever-changing plans that is still evolving as I write. But it's going to look ok when it's done. In the end I decided to drill out the old post end from the the concrete and get a similar size post and fit it in the hole. God did I sweat drilling that motherfucker out of that hole - completely fucked up a brand new £9 drill bit, pretty much shagged out my old drill, and used about half a gallon of petrol in the generator. But now I have a whole new post cut from an old telegraph pole, fitting perfectly but standing slightly off the upright. Good result really, so I'm feeling pretty chuffed!
Next job is to repair the rails to the side of the new post, then clear up all the mess, and in a few days the whole episode will begin to fade into history.

Spring days on the moor sometimes bring tears to my eyes. I was watching a swallow perched on the weathervane, singing his heart out. When I get these sort of moments with nature it always takes me back to my childhood - the best bits of it - you know, sitting by the river watching my float, sun on my back, just waiting for the fish to go by. On really hot days we used to swim in that river by an old railway viaduct and now and again steam trains used to go by. Dr Beeching closed the railway in 1966. I disliked him intensely at the time. I went back there a few years ago and there was a 'Danger, bridge unsafe' sign up and the river was completely covered in weed.
Did you see that survey that said we were happier in 1957 than we are now? I think that's bollocks but I loved growing up in the 50s and 60s. Remember the Ford Anglia with the sloping back window - says it all really doesn't it!