The Price of Butcher's Meat

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Hi Cass!

Hows things in darkest Africa? Wierd amp; wonderful-I bet-but not so w amp;w as what weve got here at Willingden Farm. Go on-guess! OK-give up?

Houseguests!

amp; I dont mean awful Uncle Ernie on one of his famous surprise visits. These are strangers!

What happened-at last after our awful wet summer Augusts turned hot-not African hot but pretty steamy by Yorkshire standards. Dad amp; George were working up in Mill Meadow. Mum asked if Id take them a jug of lemon barley-said it would please dad if I showed willing. Weve been in armed truce since I made it clear my plans hadnt changed-ie do a postgrad thesis instead of getting a paid job-or better still-a wellpaid husband- amp; settling down! But no reason not to show willing-plus it gave me an excuse to drive the quad-so off I went.

Forgot the mugs-but dad didnt say anything-just drank straight out of the jug like he preferred it-so maybe mum was right amp; he was pleased. In fact we were having a pleasant chat when suddenly old Fang let out a growl. Lost half his teeth amp; cant keep up with the sheep anymore-but still manages a grand growl. Dad looked round to see what had woken him- amp; his face went into Headbanger configuration.

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