Lord and Lady Glebe, the lambs whose birth we witnessed a couple weekends ago, are now known as the gender appropriate Glebe sisters or the prosaic Blue 57. The latter sounds like I’m trying to sink your Battleship, but it’s just a reference to the spray painted number that now graces theirs and their mother’s sides so the shepherds can make sure they stay together in the pasture. Henry has managed to swing a trade with his boss so the Blue 57 trio join his flock and husband stays that much closer to realizing his dream of lamb chop liberation for the Glebe sisters.
We learned all this last night when we bumped into Henry at the local inn. There, over cider and red wine, a cunning plan was hatched to realize our dream of a pet sheep syndicate of which the Glebe sisters will be the inaugural members. We’ve identified a regular at the wine bar who has a few unused acres just out of town. It’s a perfect plan if we can convince the land owner, who I just happen to know is partial to the Ox House white…