If Lambie and Ster had their way, they would be living in the house.

If I lived by myself, I would probably let them but I don’t so I can’t and folk would judge me as even odder than they do already.

I also like airing the house as often as I can.  To do this, I open the front door and the back door thus creating a good draught.

Since the arrival of Lambie, this has not been very achievable because if he spies the front door open, he comes running in to tell me he is here.

So I invented my new Anti-Lambies Barricade (patent pending).  It’s previous life was as a concertina clothes airers (I had broken it putting wet heavy horse rugs to dry) but it now makes a superb gate which even Lambie has not worked out how to get through.

The boys were intrigued to start with.

There was a small committee meeting about the best way to tackle this obstacle.

Agreement was reached.

The plan was for Lambie to stare it into submission while Ster prayed to his Gods.

No result, so Lambie had one of his woolly tantrums, which are very funny (must never laugh, though as that would hurt his feelings).  He is a thenthitive theep.

Lambie tried his hardest to come in but nope, the rest of him wouldn’t follow.

Then Plan B was executed – the begging and the guilt trip

An offer of kisses but I had to remain resolute.  No Lambies in the house. Apparently it is The Law.  OH says so.

And then, to add insult to injury, BeAnne (and Loki) showed just how easy it was to come in, go out, come in and go out endlessly.

At that stage Lambie and Ster went off in a depression to poo and pee in the silage bale as revenge.