Roland didn't eat all supper tonight so I am a little worried about the old fellow.
Barbs is off washing glasses for big wedding party, and I have been processing some of the apples we've been given - they're (some of them) a bit floury. But they've been cooked up with a bit of lemon and sugar and will make - with some spice and raisins - fair apple tartlet filling, and be useful in other things. I made some sweet pastry and a couple of batches of biscuits (cookies in American) and tried to stretch my brain. O'Mike - Agent of evil and authors has asked me for some 'different'proposal ideas. And right now the brain is producing... some snot for the sinuses. Heaven knows I have produced some of the weirder ideas in sf/fantasy for the last 15 years or so. I'm not sure quite what 'different' means.
We had the sheep from the paddock treated (2 of them) for flystrike. A magnificent lesson in how to play rugby. Much that I have suspected about the game (I played for years at school) is probably true. We then herded the thirty through the garden, and into the front paddock - which was an interesting excercise in makeshift hurdle-construction and the intellect of sheep.