Wooky

I've lost track of who is who amongst the small herd of highland cows in Redhills Pasture. Last year's arrivals are growing up and growing impish little horns. This little one is my favourite, a bit dishevelled and with highlights in his hair. His ear tag was hidden in his mane, so I couldn't check back to see what he used to look like. He vaguely reminds me of someone, I can't think who.

Gus and I went to see the highlands on our lunchtime walk. I had decided to stay and work at home, while Gus dozed on his bed next to me. At one stage when I was on a call, he was snoring, growling and yipping as he dreamed. Just like being in the office.

It's Friday, the week has been interminable, New Year already feels months ago. But the forecast for the weekend is good, and I think I shall treat myself to a Blonde Witch this evening.