So, 4 years

Today is the 4 year anniversary of the day that Bob and I first met. I remember it like yesterday, as our eyes met across the throng of people sat in the garden of The Ostrich in Bristol docks. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful early summer day that made Bob's curly white coat shine luxuriantly. It also made Bob's owner and my now wife Kate glow in an interesting fashion. I remember thinking that I'd never seen Lulu drinking around the docks before and that her autograph might be worth £50. Turned out she wasn't Lulu, but an excitable greek bloke did offer me 50 quid for her a couple of years ago in Kalamata. Of course I could never have accepted; she'd have killed me.

Well, being just a few days from Kate's birthday, I didn't want to go for celebration overload, so our special treat consisted of a couple of pizzas and a bottle Co-op Cava Rosado, a witty little fruity number with a big nose and a lingering mouth of anti-freeze as Jilly would say.

Unfortunately one of the pet lambs is under the weather and so like a typical farmer Kate has done what any other rufty tufty northumbrian farmer would in this situation and bought No-Name in and snuggled her in a blanket on the vintage sofa in front of the roaring open fire. The lamb cannot believe her luck. Hand fed 4 cheese stonebaked pizza washed down with some pink bubbly. Admittedly she was a little sniffy about the Co-op label and the fact that it was Spanish (thank God that it was a good year for Cava), but after a couple of glasses she soon lost her inhibitions and seemed rather less worried by the Co-op label.

Hopefully she'll be fine in a few days, but we are learning that sheep can be obstinately deceptive with their state of health. No-Name's tongue has a distinct blue colour which isn't particularly promising and suggests it's not an infection.

Course I'm in an unusual position; unsure whether my concern should be that of a mother (all 5 of the pet lambs have decided that I'm the ewe that carried them, birthed them and then told them to sod off) or that of the man who paid £8 for her, spent a further £30 on feeding her up and now stands to make as much as a £2 profit if we could get £40 for her.

Well' we'll let you know how she gets on. I better go; schnooklebuns is shouting for another plate of peeled grapes. Happy anniversary.