Saturday, November 14

There are worse things in life than poor weather and marauding sheep

A twenty mile Saturday morning run across the moor to Tavistock for supplies from the market – our Duck Woman. However, as we have done ducks to death (twice last week), we returned with a sack of pheasants, four pork chops (British Saddleback), and a kilo strip of fillet steak (Mrs G. is cooking Beef Wellington for our anniversary dinner). Returned home to find someone left a gate open and we had acquired sixty sheep. Needless to say the little dears had tap danced their way across Mrs G’s precious lawn, trampled the good lady’s allotment underfoot and were eating her remaining blooms. A grim day, given the weather; made grimmer by the news from Paris.

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