The rain arrived in large lumps along with a thick pea-soup fog.

So I drove the horse-van to town to collect some more hurdles (I have big plans) as well as drop off more sheep for the field at Jamieson’s Knitwear on the Street.

I decided against taking Pepper as being dragged around town in the rain is not much fun for anyone.

Note how I parked the van very badly too.  I was not proud but desperate.

A quick nip around Tesco’s and I dashed home, dodging folk driving without lights and cyclists also without lights, or Darwin Award candidates as I like to think of them.  Honestly, who does this and why?

I now have a headache.

It did brighten up later, and please forgive my obsession with the weather, so I went out to the track and managed to get all the rugs off everyone without a headcollar and rope involvement.

Back up the hill lugging my rugs, and I noticed my real sheep were around.

I had words with Harrel-the-Barrel about stealing the hen food, telling him no good would come of his thieving ways as there is wormer powder in the grain.

“Jog on, chaps”

And that includes you, ‘Bert.

And someone isn’t talking to me but I have a feeling my headache would be even worse if she had come too.