We never did get the sheep out into the pasture this morning.
I thought it was the heat and bugs (which are bad this morning) and that they’ve been grazing all night. But Jon thinks it’s part of Red getting old, and losing his ability to move quickly. He’s also almost blind in one eye which makes herding more difficult.
I imagine it’s a combination of all these things.
Tell Red to embrace his retirement. I’m starting to enjoy mine. It’s actually pleasant to go from being a working stiff to just being admired for one’s charm and beauty.
Good advice Mary Jean….
Oh, how I love hearing the screes of the red-winged blackbirds at your place. I grew up in Missouri with them crowded around every corn field.
It’s such a distinctive sound Dale. I’ve come to know it from living here. I think it would be similar to the cicadas that always meant hot summer days to me growing up on Long Island.