Wednesday, July 18, 2012

An old photo


This was taken on one of my weekend trips to see my sister and her husband in Worcestershire.  It was in 1973, a couple of years before I met Gregg. At the time my mom, dad and I were living in South Devon and I hadn't long become mobile. I had saved every penny I could to buy an old grey mini cooper. I loved that old car, it gave me wings and the freedom to visit my sister any time I wanted. The distance was 158 miles and for me back then it was like driving to the other side of the moon.

They also lived in a small village and they had farming friends down the road.  On my weekend visits we would often walk over to the farm for a chat and also to see the farm animals, which was an extra bonus. There were times when my sister and I would hop up on the back of the farmer friend's pick-up truck, drive over the fields and throw the hay out for the animals to feed.  That was always fun.

But I especially loved it when there was a new born lamb to be taken care of. The house they lived in had been in their family for about three hundred years. The kitchen had a huge walk in fireplace and a box would be placed near the fire filled with blankets, and in the box were the new lambs whose mothers, for one reason or another, were not able to take care of them.  I would often be given a bottle of milk to feed them and if I could have taken one home with me, I would have been a very happy girl. That never happened but I was content with the opportunity of taking care of these sweet little lambs as brief as they were, because before I knew it the weekend was over and I was heading south again.