Plunge pool ‘bath’ sends us all dippy

FINALLY, order has been restored.

All the yows with twins are in the allotments and high pastures while all those with single lambs are back at the moor.

On Tuesday we had a frenzy of births, with four yows having six lambs between them.

How beautiful they looked, taking their first faltering steps among the bright yellow marsh marigolds.

Working under the glaring hot sun has given me a beetrootlike glow and after also accidentally getting spattered with blue antiseptic spray I was looking forward to a shower.

The forecast had

Lamb in flowers been for a hot day and I had dressed Clemmy and Annas in pristine white cotton sundresses.

Predictably, they soon looked bedraggled too.

By the time the rest of the children got home from school I had decided the only thing for it was to take a dip in our very own plunge pool with a bar of soap.

As usual a water fight ensued, with pond weed and mud balls thrown – all closely watched by a moorhen who never moved off her eggs.

Finally everyone was reasonably rinsed off but then Annas decided to take one of the lambs for an evening stroll.

I should have been cross and hurried them to bed but somehow, after the horrors in Manchester, time didn’t seem important.

Late to bed, still slightly grubby, but happy – and that was all that mattered.