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Cotswolds

Lambing

I still haven’t made it to lambing at Henry’s farm, although it’s an offer I’ll be pursuing tonite when we see him to celebrate his birthday. As it happens, I didn’t need to know a real life shepherd to have a front row seat for lambing. BBC Two has been running a Lambing Live series from a farm in Wales for the past few weeks in prime time. It was so popular last Tuesday it killed its competition, University Challenge and Master Chef. I like to think the whole idea of prime time animal husbandry is one of the many examples of British quirkiness, but maybe not. I remember reading last year in the New Yorker that raising chickens is reaching new heights in popularity in the US, so maybe it’s only a matter of time before stateside viewers are watching hens lay their eggs after American Idol.

After our horrible winter, lambing is being joined by some other early indicators that spring is nigh. Evenings are noticeably lengthening. The snow drops have been out for weeks, and today on a bike ride I noticed patches of green shoots promising daffodils everywhere. The sun even made an appearance, although wearing bike shorts was a bit optimistic on my part.

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