oh Lord, no posts over the weekend! That's not like me. We had a busy day on Saturday then I was working all day Sunday which was followed by a twilight shift at Samaritans . I didn't get home until 1.30 am, tired and somewhat jaded only to be faced with the body of a rabbit lying headless under the catflap.
I've counted just three adult rabbits on the field this morning. The only survivors of the myxomatosis plague of last month.
Anyhow, I caught neighbour Betty standing at the field gate when I returned home from dropping the Prof off for his train journey to Cardiff. She was waving two pieces of cheap white bread above her head like an elderly semaphore enthusiast.
This happens a great deal from time to time, especially as several locals now understand just how much the sheep adore these delicate morsels. All it takes, with one or two wafts of a slice, and both Sylvia and Irene bust an absolute gut to overcome their natural shyness to gallop up to the gate in order to coyly accept the offering and chomp away with eyes closed in happy rapture.
Animals like people, love a treat.
For George it's miniature cocktail sausages whereas William will go weak at the knees over a cheap spar meatball.
Winnie having eclectic tastes, prefers roast beef and lamp shank. ( and there is a facebook video doing the rounds with my friend Greta and her husband feeding her such tidbits with a fork at the dinner table!)
I still go weak at the knees over the mere glimpse of a scotch egg whereas the Prof especially loves a cheesy ball!
( make of that what you will)
Anyhow back to cheap white bread!
I adore the smell of it, and the way that you can reduce it to dough just by pressing it hard between your fingers! It reminds me of those 1970s Fridays at my grandmothers' where jam sandwiches made with baking margarine and strawberry jam and a cup of sweet tea was the order of the afternoon!
Baked beans always tastes better of toast made from cheap white bread!
Try It and you'll see I am right.
Pippa, from the Rectory, often comes around with all sorts of designer rye bread and hard as rock expensive French baguettes for the sheep to eat and they nibble on her offerings with a politeness bordering on boredom. Betty's cheap crusts go down so much easier.
My sheep are like me, they are easily pleased.