Please. We Want Rain!

It stubbornly refuses to rain. If wanting a downpour could pull it out of the sky, we would be flooded.

I just want enough to top our tanks up, make the grass grow a little, and wash all the sheep poo into the soil. It looks like someone has opened a huge bag of black jelly beans and spilled them everywhere! There is not a blade of grass in sight. Any shoot that dares to pop its green head above ground level is chewed off with ruthless efficiency by our sheepies.

There are grey clouds all around, but nothing seems to be dropping anything, yet!

Bowling me over at feeding time.

We have been feeding out hay for a few weeks now, and they have learned to love it. We were also given some beans that look like brown broad beans, and when I scatter them on the ground, they crunch them up with relish, sounding like pop corn going off.

Feeding Frenzy

The last bales we bought were lucerne, which is the Rolls Royce of hay, so they are not suffering, but our bank balance is. Time to get on with turning them into our intention - 'table sheep'. Well, four of them anyway. The mums will remain and meet their Cheviot lover, Herbie, again in May. And, one cute little cheviot type girl will stay too, because I want to paint her, then she can become a mum as well.

Note the wool caught on the barbed wire. where they poke their heads through to get to the grass.

Doggie Business:
Dear Old Connor is exhausted having two gorgeous poodley ladies on heat at once. I'm not sure how Zara's teddy came to be there, but a totally candid shot of him dreaming happy dreams.