Sunday, July 19, 2009
And in a low key sort of way, it has been. Earlier in the year there were a spate of sightings of a strange bipedal mammal in the woods between Mawnan Old Church and Maenporth Beach, and so I was not particularly surprised when I received several notifications of a series of raptor attacks in the Helford passage. As anyone who has ever made a study of such things will know, we have been here before.
Watch this space, because the game is most definitely afoot....
Quentin Rose is, rather sadly, rarely spoken about today. Here was a guy who on a full-time basis investigated reports of large exotic cats roaming the countryside. He was the best at what he did. And yet despite his investigations, he was ridiculed and also sneered at by many other ‘researchers’ across the field because of their jealousy. I think that maybe it was down to the fact that Quentin had the know-how as to track such animals; he had the experience, and an official say on the matter. Sadly, in October 2002, Quentin, who I’d begun to liase (I’d already done a few TV bits with him) with, passed away unexpectedly, and so, on one of my old websites I posted a small tribute to him. Thankfully, this was picked up by Quentin’s good friend Chris Bosley who sent me the below email a few years back, which I’ve now decided to release as a fitting tribute to the man.
‘Quentin and I were good friends for many years, sharing many common interests, including an almost theological zeal for the natural world. Many interesting conversations took place whilst walking the Malvern Hills. He successfully cured me of a spell of Buddhism on one such walk! We shot pistol and rifle together, he being a far better pistol shot and was actually a member of the British Practical Pistol National Squad for a time. I was, I am glad to say, a better rifle shot though. I knew his mother very well, a kind and tolerant woman who put up with quite a lot of Q's eccentricities, such as drying jerky on the living room radiators and curing rabbit and hare skins in the bathroom sink!
I sincerely thank you for the obituary. It was most unexpected and I am very grateful.
After Quentin died his father contacted me and offered me the traps Quentin used to track large cats, but I was unable to get to Gloucestershire to pick them up. However, the TV footage I have of Quentin, and the advice he gave me is much treasured. R.I.P.
At the CFZ there are lots of things we like:
- We like big animal-related art projects.
- We like people who are terribly fond of their pets
- We like people who over-react to things
So we LOVE this story...
Charlie Mayhew of Newburg loved his dog, Bud, in a big way; so big that upon Bud's death he commissioned a big memorial to Bud — a 19-foot-tall metal sculpture by Colgate artist Paul Bobrowitz. The sculpture was placed on Mayhew's 400 acre property Friday.
Good on 'im, we say
Who pointed this out? None other than our old friend Geoff Ward, ex of the Western Daily Press, and now boss of a new and rather groovy looking website - click the link below..
I have an appalling habit of swearing like a trooper in private, but I don't usually allow profanity on the blog as we are essentially a family organisation, and I want everyone of all ages and backgrounds to get into what we are doing. However, this time, I make an exception.
(Thanks to Beth for this)
A local farmer had caught and trapped a Moa, and had it contained in his garage. This news created a frenzy and all the locals wanted witness to the extinct bird. The media soon became caught up in all the frenzy (as they usually do). The farmer announced the time and date when he would unleash the Moa for all to witness.
The time approached and the farmer entered his garage. The media and locals were all gathered, cameras at the ready, when the garage door opened and the farmer emerged on his lawn Moa.
The prank was reputed to have created some bad press for the farmer.
I found the story quite amusing and it seemed to capture the quirkiness of the Kiwis. I'd forgotten that story until I read the article and I don't know how true it is. I have a very good friend that lives on the Kapiti Coast so I'm going to ask her if she's heard the story. New Zealand was a beautiful country; it reminds me of how this country could still have been.
Oliver is still gallivanting around the fleshpots of Plymouth, doing whatever it is that a Welshman does when he goes to the big city. (Answers on a postcard please) so today, for one day, his column is being taken over by me, a conceptual chicken with a bad attitude.
Today is Stereoscopic Sunday (according to Oliver) but in his abscence I know that I can't produce 3D piccies of stuff around the CFZ mansion because after all, I am only a conceptual chicken and I also don't know how to work Oliver's 3D Camera thingy, because I do not have opposable thumbs.