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Composted on Monday hooman knew she was around. Other cows would head
straight for the road and see you later. But not the Terrorist.
Many years back a lady I knew told me a story about one of
No she decided her 'mummy' needed a hair trim. Next thing
her Mondays. She was out in her garden happily planting
I know there she is beside me at the mail box eating my hair!
away, listening to the sounds of little lambs cavorting in the
OUCH! It hurt too. Worse were the horns sticking into my
paddock next door, and the sound of birds singing away. It
read end while I was trying to get the mail out. Then she
was tupping time - the time when the rams are put in with
decided to lick me with her sandpaper tongue.
the ewes to make well... more little lambs and next year's
export dinners. That was okay. All of the rams were in with
the ewes, the garden was doing well and.......then there was
the crashing sound. Little did she know one of the fence
posts had come to the end of its life and had rotted out. She
had been spotted by one particular ram who 'rammed' his
way through the entire fence then 'rammed' her in her rear
end with his big thick woolly head which in turn sent her
flying up into the air straight into the compost heap—head
first. I'm not kidding either. Let's just say the next day that
same ram was hanging on a hook in the
chiller....wonder...why.
"I have a plan so cunning you could put a tail on it and call it a
weasel." Thanks Black Adder.
And the story continues. Kyra and Rachel headed up the top
in their van much to my poor mother's dismay that perhaps
this visit wasn't about anything good. No all good - thing was
would the cunning plan work? I follow with kids.
Head over to Terry's place -close off the gates and open up the
yards. Head back to where Rachel and Kyra are now