It was a lovely day in any case. The sun was up, if a bit watery through light clouds and the temperature felt mild in the light breeze. I wish that I could have just sat on the bench outside the front of the house and looked at the mountain across the valley.
But there were places (Crowe's, the Home Field) to go to and trees to dismember. In the evening, and conveniently half an hour early, the ultrasound man came with his kit in a nifty little custom-engineered trailer: half of which unfolds as a chute for catching each ewe in turn and half is the VDU unit which displays the contents of her uterus. As ever, I got to be catcher trying to wrastle the yellow-eyed monsters into submission - preferably near the entry to the trailer. As ever, I took at least one tumble into the sheep-shit and smacked a fence-post with my knee. A different set of muscles was in play compared to chain-sawing, so I got the full body work-out. It was almost too late, but I did finally get to sit on the bench watching the last of the evening light as I reflected on how much we have to be grateful for. Not least the lambing forecast: