The Red Bucket

The sun has been shining. I had to go into Bantry to get something laminated. Himself gave me a map showing the townlands on the peninsula for Christmas, far more exciting than it sounds, and I wanted to get it laminated. Sadly it was too big so a rethink is needed. Anyway, the colours and views coming home over the mountain were fantastic. I stopped to admire the almost 360 view from the top but was rather taken by this inquisitive and muddy sheep, looking rather fine next to her red bucket. She was rather taken with me too. Worth biggifying to see her rather sweet expression.

This afternoon we've been working in the garden. There is a daunting amount to do. Himself was in the stream hoiking out weeds and cutting down dead branches; and I was wrestling with brambles, clearing around trees and fruit bushes. The daffodils are almost open, the bluebells have popped up and one crocus is open in the conservatory.

Edit: Kendall has just sent me a link to this poem, it does seem very appropriate:
Anecdote of the Jar by Wallace Stevens

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.