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The Squalls and Molasses

13/11/2015

 
Today started off well enough - the first rays of the morning sunshine lit up the side of our barn and after all of the inclement weather of recent days, we were very upbeat and to be frank - jolly excited.
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Today started off rather well
However it was not to last. Soon the clouds darkened over Wattlebury Down and a quite ferocious westerly wind gathered pace, driving slanty rain across our little farm. Then the sun came out and a patch of blue sky - enough to make a sailor's suit - appeared. The 'suit' was trimmed in ermine and calico as the flustery birds skimmed across it like tiny buttons. But then the trees started nodding and bowing again and all too soon another squall passed over. Very unpredictable. No sooner had we shaken our feathers out, than we had to dive for cover again.
Farmer Richard got his cows in this week and Smoothy the Ram met his designated eight wives last Saturday (November 7th). He told us that if you put the ram with the ewes on Guy Fawkes Night, they will lamb down on April 1st. We have just 20 left in our assorted flock now - plus a pot of goo. "Molasses." said Farmer Richard. "They love it!"
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Yummy Molasses!
With all the rain and wind of the past days, the trees have quickly shed their autumn colours. The Ash is bare, apart that is, from it's black keys dangling and jingling in the wind. The pretty Beech has dropped most of her yellow and gold gown too, but the Oak is always the last one to hang on to his golden brown cloak. Dad often stares up at the big oaks that we have in our lane, debating whether to go for the 'final' leaf clear-up or wait a bit longer, hoping that a strong easterly will denude the stubborn leafage and send it scattering into the field instead of our yard. The Oak always wins - whenever Dad decides to go a-gathering. Gordon xxx
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Beech leaves
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and the fallen leaves like settling on the sheep paths

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    About Us

    Hello! My name is Gordon and I am a Gold Sebright and my best friend is Sylvia. She is a Silver Sebright. We live with our foster parents on a small farm in the country.  We thought that we would put our take on life and what we get up to through the year into a diary for you. All the characters are real and the events are a true record,  interpreted with a modicum of poetic licence. We hope you enjoy it. Love Gordon and Sylvia

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