Taking 
                the mums out for the morning, we try out the tearooms and ice 
                cream parlour at at a farm at Shelley. It's the 
                sort of place you expect to come across on holiday - a real country 
                tearooms - but this is just 20 minutes drive from home. 
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            View from the tearooms at Shelley  | 
         
       
      
        
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            On our way back, we call at Thorncliffe Farm Shop 
              at Emley. While the mums and Barbara browse the 
              produce on offer, I sit by the wall in the car park and start drawing 
              the clouds (above). Then I think, well, I could draw clouds 
              at home, so I cross the road and sit on a drystone wall and start 
              drawing this sheep. 
            It looks up with at me and I think it - I should say 'she' - is 
              going to trot off down the slope and join the loosely scattered 
              herd. 
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          |    But 
              no, she doesn't think I'm much of a threat and she stays sitting 
              there, chewing, looking relaxed and ruminative and turns back to 
              survey, through half-closed eyes, the green pastures and distant 
              woods and the other members of her social group quietly grazing. 
            Really, it doesn't seem such a bad life. Wish I could acheive such 
              ovine centring and be at peace with wherever I find myself in space 
              and time. 
            Come to think of it, I do feel that when I'm involved in drawing, 
              as I am now.  
             Can it be that sheep are the only animal that some economist hasn't 
              worked out a way of rearing in an intensively controlled shed somewhere? 
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        I 
        could easily become vegetarian but if every one decided to do the same, 
        sheep would just die of old age. If I could believe that every sheep could 
        have as contented a life as this one, then I wouldn't mind eating a lamb 
        casserole, in fact I do eat lamb casserole, that's one of my signature 
        dishes out of a very limited repetoire. 
       
          
       Mutton is largely a natural product. I'm sure there are various nasty 
        chemicals involved in keeping them pest free (a farmer's wife once told 
        me that every sheep you buy should be supplied with a free spade because 
        they have a habit of keeling over and dying) but basically all a sheep 
        consists of is converted grass, and all the grass is made from is the 
        elements available for free on this hillside: water, air, sunlight and 
        elements from the soil. So there's a real relationship between the flock 
        of contented fleecy cumulus clouds, trundling slowly from west to east 
        in the sky above . . . 
        
        . . . and the contented, fleecy sheep lying below in her green pasture. 
      I wonder what sheep dream about?   
      Richard Bell, richard@willowisland.co.uk 
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