At the weekend I wandered around a windswept farm cooing over newborn piglets and boisterous lambs and big highland cattle. I did this for no reason whatsoever, except that they were cute and we needed a family day out. I didn’t read an interesting or edifying book. I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know about pigs or sheep.* I didn’t have any great ideas or ponder any deep questions. I didn’t even think about much except pigs and sheep and how cold my nose was and whether it was time for a scone or two and how a cow’s tongue can possibly be so long.
What a rest for the creative mind to get out of my head and into the world. A blessed relief.
*Oh, wait, there was one thing. English sheep counting words. I knew the first few: yan, tan, tethera… But did you know how they go on? Oh, the linguistic and juvenile pleasure my family and I got from this:
Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera, Pimp, Sethera, Lethera, Hovera, Covera, Dik, Yan-a-dik, Tan-a-dik, Tethera-dik, Pethera-dik, Bumfit, Yan-a-bumfit, Tan-a-bumfit, Tethera-bumfit, Methera-bumfit, Figgot.
I’m still chuckling with sheer delight.