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I love this time of year. The hedgerow banks are all blousy & full of promise and the countryside looks fresh and green.

We sheared the sheep a couple of weeks ago, fairly early really, and then of course it poured and went chilly so BH’s beloved vintage tractor had to be moved out of the field barn to stay in the rain instead of the sheep. It was only until they acclimatise to having no woolly coats on the weather. So BH is not happy about that.

The ewes all look terrific, not a thin one amongst them, so we must be doing something right.

The ‘few-stitches-short-of-a-jumper’ lamb is no longer getting her head stuck in the wire fence which saves us a few mercy trips each day and Gavin & Stacey are progressively becoming more sheepified and less humanified. The large ram just fancies everything in sight as usual.

We now have three Indian Runner ducks, a drake and two wives who we bought at the Smallholder’s Festival at the Royal Welsh Showground last weekend. (We go every year, it’s a great event). The ducks sleep in the small stable until we convert the old chicken shed for them. At least we don’t have an expensive floating duck house paid for by everyone else.

However, they’ve already squeezed under the fence to visit our lovely neighbours partly encouraged by their own ducks who were on the other side quacking to them to meet up. Today they have found the St. Davids Holy Well that we have in the garden and are having a brilliant time swimming around. We have a largish pond fed by all the natural springs here which is supposed to be their home, but they just happened to find the well first. I don’t suppose the waters would cure anybody now after they’ve been splashing about in it!

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