The very first meal that we ate in this house inspired the name of this blog, the sheep are out. I won’t retell the story here, but you can read about it in the first post that is linked here.
Since that time the sheep have gotten out a couple more times, generally their short-lived freedom being spent nibbling and pooping (lots of pooping) in the garden. There’s also been a loose horse in the front yard, munching by the basketball hoop, as well as various and a sundry other wildlife.
So when Dave came bursting into the living room last night after just having put Little Man to bed and said that I needed to look outside, I flew to the front door. Outside I was greeted by a group of sheep munching away around Little Man’s sand box. They looked a bit chagrined that their late night snack was being interrupted. Luckily Dave was doing the sheep herding and steered them down the driveway rather than the shorter distance through the garden (which I likely would have done without thinking about the consequences) since it would have been destroyed.
I have to say that Dave is becoming a quite proficient with his sheep herding, much better than our first night here back in 2013. Hopefully the sheep don’t take this as a challenge to up their game. Until then, the sheep were out, but are now… noisily… back in their pens.