Sheeple

The weather was "absolutely gorgeous" as my husband would say. I worked on my novel in the morning, and it was my intention to ride my bike into town in the afternoon, to make another bakery run. I went in yesterday, Monday, when all the stores are closed except for one bakery and the supermarches. By the time I arrived at the bakery, they were out of fresh bread! I reluctantly purchased a day old loaf of walnut bread. Le pain was fine yesterday, but it's dried out today and not very tasty.

Colin came over this morning and we took an abbreviated walk with the sheep. We were directly in the sun and it was so hot that I thought it best if we didn't go very far. Blanche is too fat and her wool is too long for her to be cavorting in the sun. I didn't want to have to perform CPR on her.

Before Colin arrived, I attempted to trim the poopy "tags" off of Blanche's behind so Colin wouldn't be too nauseated walking behind her. I had this grand scheme to cut them off while she had her head stuffed in her morning grain bucket. In my mind, it all seemed so simple.

But Blanche was not interested in having the ugly clumps cut off and so I got no where. I'm going to try once again tomrrow to get them. I'll tie her up by her halter hoping that I can immobilize her. If that works, I'm going to try and go whole hog and shear her with my new English hand shearers that I purchased in Montana. They're pretty scary looking so I hope that Blanche and/or I survive the operation.

Blanche is very possessive. If Colin was so bold to walk next to me, she made sure that she cut him off by wedging herself between us. She was herding us where she wanted us. She's so large, you pretty much have to either go where she wants, or step back and walk behind her.

I didn't bicycle into town because the plumber was set to arrive at 2pm to fix two leaks in two water pipes and by the time he left, it was too hot to go biking. The plumber knows a few words in English that he was forced to learn for all his British clients like "open" and "close." It's always weird when I'm stumbling along in my French, assuming that the person doesn't know a word of English and then they start speaking English to me. Just now, Horatio Alger the Younger drove in the yard to deliver a notice about a play that will be staged in our small village. I was proudly chatting away in French, asking him if he would come by and talk with me about mowing the grounds when I return to the U.S. Then, out of the blue, he said in perfect English, "I'll pass by here before you leave to talk with you about it." Most of the people in my area, don't speak English . . . it's not like Paris where everyone seems to have studied the language.

The plumber showed me how to turn off all the water to the house and the outbuildings, so that should save us some money next year. We had three pipes burst this year. After he left, I took two beach towels out of an armoire and wentout in the sheep pasture to take a nap. Blanche immediately came over, pawed, or hooved me and my towels then laid her big whale of a body alongside me, aligning herself in the same direction, so that our heads were exactly side by side. I slung my arms over her shoulder and fell asleep as she placidly belched and chewed her cud. Her ear would wiggle back and forth tickling my cheek.

Sometime while I was asleep, Blanche had gotten up and moved. When I woke up, because it was getting cold, Blanche was laying down on the other side of me, turned in the opposite direction from which I faced. Soixante-Douze was near by. Since sheep are prey animals, when they lay down they each keep watch pointed in a different direction. I think that's why Blanche changed her alignment, she didn't think it was safe that the two of us were both looking in the same direction and not covering our backs. Sheep are quite paranoid.

Colin asked me today if S-D and Blanche think they're human. I replied that S-D still thinks she's a sheep, because she was raised by a sheep mother. Blanche thinks she's human because I raised her on a bottle. However, after this afternoon, I don't think that either of them thinks they're human. I think they think I'm a sheep, who lives in the house with the blue shutters.