Well. I find I do not have the energy nor the enthusiasm to take pictures of the enormous old 25-gallon crock and the various 8-foot rusty ice saws and something called a "walk-behind tractor" and the other spoils of the trip A. took this past weekend. Nor do I have the time or patience to explain this trip and how he got to be in possession of these items.
So it will have to wait. You can blame the sheep. I do.
Is it butcher time yet?
We dealt with a loose dog this morning at 6:30. Our old dog Rowdy decided to be aggressive so there was much growling and barking until we could locate the owner. Those animals! I was also in my nightgown. Mary in MN
ReplyDeleteWell, in Ireland the sheep roam free, often stopping traffic on those tiny roads that only one car can get by. Your blog has made me understand there is more to sheep than those cute, cuddly pictures I've often seen of them!
ReplyDeleteButchering time yet? Naaaaaaaah.
ReplyDeleteSorry, I tried to resist.
Word verification: vangs -- skateboarding shoes for vampires
I think A should be scouring the area sales for fencing. :) Beth
ReplyDeletelamb, yummy
ReplyDeleteIt would be a desperation move, and perhaps not sufficiently woodchuck, but the local Mennonite fence crew probably could contain the ever-wandering sheep.
ReplyDeleteBaaaaaad Sheep! I couldn't resist.
ReplyDelete