From all angles

This strange sheep belonging to the militia caused quite a stir at Rock HQ. Firstly she tried to jump into the pen with our Ryelands when she was caught having a free breakfast from the ring feeder. Not used to big dogs obviously she took cover by me stamping her foot to warn the dogs that if they got any closer she would Bah, or stamp again (sheep lack weaponry) Unfortunately she got it form all sides as Ambrose, true to form for a goat, tried to eat her wool, and ear. Feeling oppressed she took the only option available to her, which was not caught on camera, if it was it would have been a money winner video for you've been framed, but as I switched the camera off ,Reuben, our youngest Berner came to my side. The sheep panicked and in a full on charge hit him square in the chest knocking him and me over. The camera, kindly lent by a camera shop despite my "what if I drop it down the toilet or something" line, span out of my hand and some how bounced fifteen feet down the lane without damage. Its still pink, I think the camera shop assistants had a warped sense of humour, but functional.

Its been all change here, Lilly the rescue dog was sent to a long term foster before her new owners are checked. She has to be the easiest rescue dog we have ever had, her favourite pastime was sleeping on your lap. The little black kitten was found a new home, her two friends are making themselves comfortable here for the time being. Aunty Montana our foster Berner returned to Rock HQ, this caused much excitement amongst the clan. A sad part of the day was the burial of Passion Beagle, she over looks one of her favourite trails, a good place to spend eternity.

I am trying to get ahead of the jobs before the baby is born, achieving this is about as likely as a big lottery win, but at least I am trying. The major task of the day was to chainsaw up a tree trunk and chop as much into logs as possible before blister or coronary heart failure stopped work. A task not made easy by the insolence of the big chainsaw which point blank refused to start, probably sulking as its been usurped by a smaller, shinier, orangier, easier to handle chainsaw. The little chainsaw was no match for the huge trunk so a different wood pile was attacked at the far end of the smallholding ( a wheel barrow marathon ensued) and a deal was struck with the big saw who was promised a service and new chain as long as in return it promised to cut the big trunk up next weekend.