A Day in the Life in a Village


This morning a day of planned endeavours stretched out ahead of us. Rosie had weddings to edit, blogs to submit and the washing to do. Such is the life of a famous wedding photographer.

I had a website to build and the washing to hang out. Such is the life of the husband of a famous wedding photographer.

This was the limit of our plans. But wait… We live in a village so plans can change with the knock of a door.

At the point of the morning when children have been shooed onto the bus, dogs walked and we had been sitting at our desks long enough to be wanting to be somewhere else there was indeed a knock at the door.

“Could you come and help round up some sheep?” asked a neighbour.

“Yes” I said. “I certainly could.”

I donned some wellies and a suitably distressed Barbour jacket and jumped into our friend’s Land Rover (that makes it sound very agricultural but it was a Land Rover Discovery 4 HSE and my wellies were a Hunter special edition provided by the company for a photo shoot) and we set off to the other end of the village in hi-tech leathery luxury.

Rosie decided to go to the Co-Op.

The sheep were soon rounded up and penned with much shouting and waving (and some jazz hands from me) ready for being sorted. The fit fat ones would be returned to the croft while the skinnier saggier ones will be making a guest appearance in a mutton pie near you soon.

Sheep herding turned to coffee which turned to insulation boards being offered which turned to loading 8 sheets of insulation board into a trailer which then meant we met up with our wives outside our house which led to more coffee with convivial chat and gossip inside our house.

After that boards were cut to size and taken up to the loft, the trail of insulation foam sawdust was hoovered up and it was time to welcome our children home from school. Not a thing has been done to the website and I was dirty, dusty and smelled vaguely of sheep poo.

Maybe I’ll get the website done tomorrow…maybe.



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