Yesterday afternoon we stopped into the wine bar for a postprandial glass or three. Henry the shepherd (of the lambing and Worcestershire livestock market field trips documented in this blog) was also there. In the course of casual conversation he let slip he will be appearing in an episode of the reality show about Liz Hurley’s life on her farm. (Ms. Hurley has a farm about ten miles south of where we live.) Not only that, he has in fact done multiple shepherding duties for Ms. Hurley over recent years.
“How could you not mention this to me before, Henry?” I nearly shouted at him.
The more genteel amongst our group were busy guffawing over the fact that Liz refers to her four hundred-acre farm as an estate (which apparently requires, at a minimum, cottages). I was already off planning a screening party for Henry’s upcoming appearance and posting that I know Liz Hurley’s shepherd on Facebook, both of which are decent enough reasons why he’s never mentioned this to me before.
P.S. The Romanian dream is dead. Two years was the deal breaker in the end. New dreams of Berlin or the U.S. brewing…