I spent the day in my shed making sheep to sell.  Money is needed desperately (vet bills, feed bills, just bills) so I have to create my sheepie creations while the demand is here.

It was beautiful outside which meant I didn’t have to worry about any animals and could concentrate on binge-watching my latest US medical drama (New Amsterdam, which I highly recommend) while frantically stabbing away.

Occasionally, I would look up to my beautiful view outside.

And I had my ever-faithful companion with me.

And so today I made three sheep (the one on the right was from last night) and the smaller pale brown one is made from some of the last of ‘Ster’s washed fleece (small, but special).  When I emerged from my shed at 4 p.m., I decided that actually I shouldn’t do this.  Two sheep a day should be my maximum effort.  More is a killer and not particularly good for me and my back either.

For exercise afterwards, I went out with my bucket and Marigolds (rubber gloves) to poo-pick the track.

OH, who possibly has not found out about Barrel’s chocolate biscuit habit, kindly offered to strim/cut back the long grass from the electric fence.

This has made a huge difference as the grass was impossibly long and every time it touched the wire, it negated any zapping effect (this part of corridor is not currently in use or attached to the fence unit) but you can see just how long it is.

Science Fact: the grass is taller than a small orange terrier.  It is that long.