You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts

When I was little, my "Aunty", (my mum's friend - and good friends they are too still - they shared a wedding dress, and until my boobs exploded I would have worn that one too ) lived and worked on a farm.

I remember going to visit her, when I was very "little", and by very little, I mean, I was only big enough to lean on the kitchen chairs, and rest my nose on the big kitchen table.

It was lambing season, and the farmer was out busy in the shed, with the lambing mothers, but the kitchen was a hive of activity too. Orphaned lambs, in need of being bottle reared were laying on a blanket in the door of the aga. I was enthralled. Little tiny lambs, laying in the oven. Not for eating. for Loving.

Because of that memory, anyone, without exception, that I come in contact with, who has anything to do with farming, I ask them "Do you have any lambs in the oven"... I have no idea why, but they always seem horrified when I ask.

I'd so love to see that again.