Having mastered the ironing some days ago, today Charlie decided to help me with the mountain of washing that had piled up due to the poor weather we've had over the last few days.
Again, the term help is open to interpretation.
Once he was done emptying the contents of the cupboard beneath Katrina's laundry tub, he had a well-earned rest on his favourite Charlie-sized stool and hummed a little tune. Butter wouldn't melt.
While Charlie and I did the washing inside, the Isla Bank Sheep Nut Delivery Service was hard at work out in the yard. Deliveries are made at various intervals along the fence line by a happy little driver singing Baa Baa Black Sheep at the top of her lungs. If a customer has not arrived in time for receipt of a delivery, the driver produces a stick and bangs it on the fence to hurry them along.
Only problem, the girls are enjoying this gorgeous weather so much that they are refusing to come home.
So I'm off to bribe them into the hen house with a bucket of scraps. And if that fails? Then the delinquents won't be allowed out again.
If I ever manage to get them back in again, that is.
If I ever manage to get them back in again, that is.
