Just as the first daffodils (Tete-a-tete) were starting to open, sunny yellow, and the purple-sprouting broccoli hinted their intent to extend flower stalks, seven inches of snow fell, unexpected, in the middle of the night. Unlike last month’s batch, it felt neither novel nor exciting!
I trudged around the garden shaking and lifting prostrate evergreens, clenching my fist as I noted more broken branches. Then on to the animals who, apart from the dogs, and well-breakfasted geese, hate even a light dusting of snow.
Commiserating with Twist and Shout, our two heavily pregnant Manx ewes, I poked around with a stick to locate and dig out their trough. Oats and seaweed seemed a little meagre, so Iona fed them some extra ewe nuts. Whilst they chomped, I anxiously examined their back ends – udders definitely swelling but, fingers crossed, no sign of little hooves yet! I'm glad they have an ark.
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