Now no woman of any age really wants to be a shabby chick (hen, or old boiler) but generally we don’t mind being a stylish “Shabby Chic”. This morning, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I wasn’t quite sure… At the time I was dressed in my Australian yellow, green and aqua harem trousers, a plain yellow sun top and short-sleeved white cardigan. Oh, I used to love those harem trousers – three or four years ago when they were fresh and new – but now they are definitely tired. We were only going to our local Sainbury’s store, nevertheless…

“Do I look a bit poor in this outfit?” I asked Chris.

“You look…” my beloved husband paused to find the appropriate word (that wouldn’t offend) before finishing his sentence with, “unique!”

“Not shabby unique by any chance?” I queried.

“Certainly not!” he grinned, “but if you were wearing a woolly coat over the top… do you think you would be ‘Shabby Sheep’?”

Ah, it’s good to be back at Rosie’s farm for the day. The girls – Inca, Malachi and Sasha – were pleased to see me and they wolfed down the Cumberland sausages that nobody else wanted; the three goats seemed not to mind at all the week old lettuce and spinach, even on a  cold day; the llamas said, “Hay, how are you this morning?”; the chubby lamb recognised me in an instant and ran to meet me at the gate (as well as a caring ewe – just to make sure that I was no abductor); the sun was shining… intermittently, and then it hailed twice whilst I was out with the dogs. The hail was nice and dry, and looked like white sherbet pips – so much less menacing than hail the size of golf balls! And the spring flowers were beautiful!

0:36

Rosie asked me over to her farm just to keep my eye on things for a few hours while she was away for the day. Apart from taking the dogs out for a walk, the main thing was to feed a little lamb with a bottle of milk. But which lamb? The top lane ends with two adjacent fields, and another beyond them – all filled with sheep and lambs!

Inca and Malachi stopped at the gate on the left whilst I opened the gate ahead and, at that very moment, a black sheep (of the family) and her lamb came down from the farther field.

“Come and get it!” I called, holding the bottle aloft.

Horrified, mother and baby ran back from whence they had come. I turned my attention to some other mothers and lambs higher up in the field to the right, but for each of my steps forward the multitude stepped backwards and were reversing up the pasture.

I felt a bit silly going back to the gate where Rosie’s clever Labradors were waiting patiently for me. Even before I had opened the gate a chubby little lamb was making a beeline for me… In a flash she was beside me, nuzzling her face against my legs and she looked up at me endearingly as if to say “Are ewe my mummy? I hope ewe are.”

What a wonderful feeling it was to be surrogate mother to a loving, cuddly little lamb, even if it was for just those few minutes – it puts quite a new meaning to being sheepish. I wonder if I shall ever be able to eat lamb again…

And if you’d like to see the lamb having his bottle just click on the link below.

Are Ewe my Mummy? – YouTube

▶ 2:25

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9zF2YaOSuI

2 hours ago – Uploaded by Sally Porch

It was full tide on the River Teign last Saturday morning and the water was brimming the riverbank. I had never seen the water level so high. All the birds on the river looked joyous and the ones on the bank even more so for someone had left meat pies for the swans, the ducks and the geese.

Whilst I was taking photographs of the swans and geese an unmanned boat came into view and drifted gently with the tide that had turned. One swan, rather put out by the loose cannon, darted out of its way and gave it a dirty look from the safety of the riverbank. Thus the boat, in a bid for freedom and great adventure, headed for the mouth of the River Teign and the sea. I was in the process of spoiling the boat’s jolly jape by phoning the Coastguard when the boat became stuck in reeds and grasses.

“Thank you for calling us,” said the man at the helm of the Coastguard switchboard (perhaps excited to have some action on a slow day), “I’ll get someone out there to secure the vessel. You have a nice day!”

The wildlife, no longer concerned by the boat caught in the reeds just past their feeding ground, returned to the water. Feeling somewhat virtuous, I went back to the car and proceeded to have a very nice day shopping.