It was a lovely morning and everyone was fine. All fed and watered. How it should be.
So OH and I drove the big horse-van over to collect some willow tree cuttings that had been set aside especially for us.
We got home and laid them in piles along the old partially rumbled stone wall that surrounds my shed. I think it must’ve been the croft’s old enclosed garden once.
When the sheep came home from their day in the hill field, I told them there were willow trees waiting for them. Now if there is one thing I know is that my sheep love willow because if they get into the garden, it is the first thing they aim for. Not the grass, no, the trees. Poor OH. They are his pride and joy so I try to keep the sheep out.
Everyone was looking very “Suspicious Aloysius”……
….. so I put one of the branches into an old wire roll that has taken root.
Bert knew what to do.
As did Maggie (which I am surprised since she is a hill sheep so where on earth would she find out about trees – there are none on the hill. Absolutely none).
But she tucked in looking at each pile as if she could make it her own.
Well done, Maggie.
So, pleased with the success of one strategically placed branch, I decided to “build” a whole tree, or perhaps bush.
The sheep looked on while I worked hard dragging my branches over.
I wonder if Maggie and Bert will convince the others that willow trees are delicious. I noticed Bert was quickly stripping the bark. I doubt it will take very long before they’re all at it.