The Lleaving of Flossie

Well, it looks like I'll be spending a few years out here in California. For reasons I've already explained, my time in my lovely Welsh valley has come to an end. I miss the place a lot though; over the years I've got to know some great people there, and my local pub was completely wicked and within walking distance - a great bonus in rural Wales (my nearest shop, by contrast, was four miles away). It's quite a culture shock to go from living in a tiny village, in a house out of sight of my nearest neighbour, to this apartment in the middle of Silicon Valley. Mind you, hopefully that will change - once the paperwork is finalised and I officially move out here I shall take steps to get a place outside the valley, with a llamasworth of space; it'll be a relief to once again be in a place where I am not immediately aware of the bowel movements of the bloke next door.

It was a pretty sad process, moving out of my Welsh abode. There was a definite llump in the Yakly throat as I took my final walk along the valley, and quaffed my final pint of Bass at the Fox. But that wasn't anywhere near as upsetting as the final departure of my two beloved sheep for pastures new. They knew something was up when their sheep shed was removed and transported to its new location - for a few days they had nowhere to go when it rained, which is a pretty frequent occurrence in Wales, and they lay, damp and dejected, on the grass outside, looking at me accusingly. On the day of their departure, a local farmer came around with his Land Rover to take them away to their new home. Molly went easily enough, but Flossie didn't want to leave me, and kept sitting down on my feet and refusing to budge. The farmer pulled her ears to make her move along. It was most undignified for poor Flossie, who of course had no way of knowing what was going on, or why. I felt pretty bad about it, and I was really choked when I finally saw their receding fluffy little tails in the back of the Land Rover as they left.

Still, they've gone to a nice place, where they have a little more room to explore than they had at my place. They've got their familiar sheep shed, and Alastair the goat for company (although apparently there was a bit of trouble at first - Alastair took a fancy to their house, and would go in there and horn my girls out into the rain. Now he's got his own abode, so my girls can rest in comfort unmolested). They'll be well cared for by the folks who are looking after them.

Oh but I do miss my girls!

Missing Ewe: Yak Regrets the Absence of -

Cool, Dude: Yak is enjoying -

I'm sure that second llist is gonna grow, with time...

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