Sheepcats
I have found another way to make our fortune. Training cats to herd sheep. It’s possible…
I have found another way to make our fortune. Training cats to herd sheep. It’s possible…
Two technologies at opposite ends of the archaeological spectrum define our lives here on our hill. Yesterday I began to lay a hedge…
Today the electricity was off between 9am and 4pm. We knew it was going to happen in advance – some cabling was being replaced in the lane…
This is what we’re getting after the country has been in the grip of the snow chaos shock. Not that anyone could have foreseen it…
Digby is our smallest bantam. Raised from an egg by two nearby children, she has lived with us, her brother Geoff, and unrelated hens Maureen and Silvia for a couple of years…
It has hit minus 20 degrees this week and 24 hour rolling news is rolling around the clock with endless ‘news’ of more weather. We are now getting retrospectives of other winters when there’s been snow…
Tonka is our accidental tortoise. He arrived in August. Alone. Without an owner. Or, it seems, a home…
The argument is straightforward. Once upon a time in London I would have put prepacked meat in my shopping trolley with little thought…
What is it about the weather? Lead news item on every channel. Front page of every paper. First word on everyone’s lips…
Cutting sheeps’ toenails is among my ten least favourite country jobs…
Having the neighbours round for drinks ought to be a fairly straightforward affair. It isn’t – we have learned the hard way…
Then we introduced our two tiny flocks of sheep to each other, which has been giving Sarah cause for alarm for some time even though I pointed out several times that no-one has ever heard of sheep fighting. If they did, it would be a sport down here in the Gap In The Fabric Of Reality…
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