Eat more beef

Tracey bought me a lamb chop yesterday.
I haven't had lamb for, well, ages, cant remember in fact. Mr Whirlpool ran out of bits of Shrek, April and Ivory (names of our first born) four pigs, three pheasants and a deer ago. Lamb being my favourite meat, and wanting to try our own mutton, it was perhaps a bit rash of Springtime to step into harms way while I was busy chopping logs. For a second the combination of hunger, sharp axe, chopping block and victim were all brought together in the spring sunshine. One blow and chops aplenty. Slow roast mutton, hotpots, liver, all there, mine for the taking.
But the vegetarian in me won the day and knowing the sort of telling off I would get from my beautiful and oh so patient wife if ever I harmed a single strand of wool of the potential lamb chops that inhabit our world Springtime was spared the attention of my chopper and wandered off to join the rest of the flock who were busily devouring the haylege bale. It is actually illegal to invade the personal space of any sheep with any sort of chopper anyway so being the law abiding type of smallholder I am I can quite categorically state I have never used my chopper on any sheep.
Sensing my disappointment Tracey bought me a lamb chop as a consolation.
She has also hidden the axe.