or perhaps not.
Gentle reader, this is neither Martha nor Bernadette, but a Soay sheep. A nice sheep, very willing to be fed. She was at a very well run Farm Park. I was offered a choice of being taken by my daughter and her husband with their twins, my grandchildren, to Fountains Abbey, or to the Farm Park. I opted to go and feed animals and a great time was had by all. I fed some very affable pigs, and some personable sheep, a rather domineering and smelly billy goat. There were also some wallabies, and a lama with amazing eyelashes and a pushy personality. In between times, intent on being a good role model, I washed my hands much much more frequently than I would normally do.
My delightful grandchildren were very brave, and Tabitha especially courageous in having food taken from her hand by the very wet rough tongue of a young heifer. It occurs to me that it is symptomatic of my entire life that I chose to feed animals at some expense – I always do. Still, it is nice to know my choices are at least consistent.