Sadly, of late, it has been less than peaceful. At the crack of dawn we get a mentally deficient partridge who thinks it's a cockerel outside our back window.
We've also got Woodhall's answer to Romeo and Juliet wandering about the grass at the back of our house bellowing out words of eternal love to each other. The noise of these calls is only worsened by the noise they make when they finally do get together!!
But yesterday just took the biscuit. We've been invaded by a gang of skinheads!!
A newly shorn flock of sheep are at the back of us....most of the time.
I say "most of the time" as their new "hairdo" has obviously given them a sense of youth and rebellion and they have taken to coming over the cattle grid and digging up Anne's plants under our windows as well as eat the ivy that grows on our fence.
I thought, by the way, that my skills with a razor were sadly lacking - I'm always cutting myself. But I'd hate to see the face of the bloke that sheared these poor buggers. Bloody hell, there's cuts and gashes all over them.
Normally very timid creatures - but for some reason they are simply not budging! It even got to the point where we were physically manhandling the things to try and "herd" them back over into their own field.
Three times yesterday we had to shift them.
Not the only problem I've had with wildlife this weekend. Today's "quality LSD" was a nice 18 miler, through the wind farms, over the Lammermuirs to the Duns to Gifford road then back through the hills and down towards Elmscleuch. A beautiful run. The sun was out, but thankfully we didn't have the oppressive heat of the last few days.
As I ran through the valley at Bothwell I was struck by how "normal" the sheep were - as they saw me coming they would run away en mass. It's only our farm that has delinquents!
Anyway. The run was going well and I was on the final leg when a bee (or maybe a wasp) for some reason, took offence at my left hand and stung me on the finger. Bloody agony!
It was my ring finger - and I quickly removed the ring as it started to swell and turn black (the finger - not the ring).
At least the pain took my mind of my tired legs and the desire to get my hand under a cold tap probably made the last two miles a bit quicker than any other. Running along for two miles with a finger that was ballooning up before my eyes.
Got back to Woodhall just in time to see the shepherdess on her quad bike chasing the skins out of our garden again!!
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