Dear WhatTheH,

Sorry I haven’t written in so long. I have been having so many adventures that I haven’t made the time to write. We had another dead lamb – making two; but then little Biberon surprised us with a new live lamb. The Husband and I helped deliver him. The lamb is so incredibly cute. The deal with the Husband is that I have to sell the males; but when I sadly commented on the fact that the new arrival had testicles, the Husband surprised me by saying that we could keep him.

All the sheep were sheared last Saturday. It was a young, inexperienced shearer; it took him four hours to shear nine sheep. When I was in Montana at my friend Kim’s sheep ranch, it took the shearer eight hours to shear 160. The sheep are much happier, even though the weather turned colder as soon as they were shorn. Blanche’s body resembles a cow more than a sheep. She’s very square and blocky.

I went to Cannes, compliments of my beautiful, accomplished, well-connected college roommate Heidi. We were joined by my other beautiful, accomplished, well-connected friend Ann who aptly captured my state of wonderment when she told me that I reminded her of Madeline at the Ritz dressed in a borrowed Celine dress and adorned with my constantly smiling, wide-eyed visage as we yacht and party hopped. Bruce Willis put his hand on my hip when he posed for a photo with us. We danced all night on a giant private yacht and left at sunrise. I shook hands with billionaires for the first time. I glided down the street in my floor length evening dress, flanked by my girlfriends and a well know mover and shaker of Silicon Valley as the paparazzi swarmed and snapped our photos. I ate in a Michelin two-star restaurant for the first time. (Unfortunately, we were rushed and skipped dessert.)

Ahhhh, how are you going to keep them down on the farm after they see . . . the Cannes Film Festival?

Surprisingly, as I sat in my second-class train seat for the ride home, I found that I was perfectly content, happy, and excited to be heading back to the farm. The handsome, talented Husband was there waiting for me at the train siding. I was so happy to see him and kiss him; and thanked my lucky stars that he wasn’t a billionaire. He took me to a no-star restaurant in our big town where I regaled him with all the tales of my big weekend and all the lessons I had learned from my weekend with the rich and famous. We took our time and had a great dinner. We ate huge ice-cream sundaes for dessert.

When the car turned into our lane, I was overwhelmed with happiness to see Attila and Antoinette and the chickens and the garden and the roses blooming and the blue shutters of the house. I ran out to visit the sheep.

I really do have everything I need and desire . . . and I always know who I can turn to in order to borrow the occasional designer dress.

The Progeny has arrived. He’s tall and handsome and intelligent and he’s mankind’s best hope for the future and I pat myself on the back because I’m his mother, taking credit where no credit is due. His lucky girlfriend arrives this evening.

This morning I’m heading out the door with friend Marilyn for a seven week hike to St. Jacques de Compostelle, Espagna . . . 570 miles. I can’t believe I’m about to leave in two hours. The planning is one thing . . . the reality is another!

St. Roger mowed our front field yesterday. To thank him, I took him over a pot of soup and a slice of apple cake. He got out an atlas and had me show him my hiking route.

If I find an internet café, I’ll check in with you. Otherwise, I’ll be back home on the 20th of July. Have a wonderful summer everyone. Hugs, Libby