The Quarterly Village Publication produced by Barrow upon Soar Community Association.
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Barrow Voice is published by Barrow upon Soar Community Association. Opinions expressed are not necessarily endorsed by the editorial committee or the Community Association.

Barrow Community Association is a registered Charity No: 505692.
Advertising Deadline
11 April 2010

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11th April 2010
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Barrow upon Soar
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Tracks in the Snow
When the snow was on the ground one could see the variety of animals and birds that had been around the fields by their tracks. It was surprising to see so many fox tracks and of different sizes, always a worry when you keep chickens.

I was in my workshop the other day with the door open trying to repair my old 410 shotgun. It has a habit of misfiring so I had taken the hammer and firing pin out. Around the side of the stables came a rabbit in a bit of a hurry closely followed by a fox. When the fox saw me he stopped and gave me a look like a child would if you had just caught it with its hand in the sweet jar.

I rather expected it to put its paws behind its back start whistling and walk off as though nothing had happened. Instead it sat down and looked at me.

I now had my gun in bits on the bench at the very moment I needed it. Keeping one eye on the fox I quickly tried to reassemble the gun. I had to push the hammer into a slot against the force of a spring; I got it part way in then it sprang out hit me in the face and fell on the floor.

The fox was still there although by now getting a bit bored. Panic started to set in as I scrabbled to find the missing part on the floor. It felt a bit like being at the Battle of Isandlwana with a cartridge jammed in my Martini Henry; though perhaps not as serious.

Eventually I got the gun together but by now the fox had moved. I crept round the corner of the workshop and there he was, quite a way across the field well out of range with his head in the ditch concentrating on a rat or some other tasty morsel. I decided to give him a barrel anyway. The bang quickly refocused his attention and he slipped through the hedge and was away.

Dave Bird