Yes, I know…it has been a long time since I posted. I was too angry.
Woodworm Willie and myself were preparing to harvest a good crop of early autumn clapdarnachs. (They were plump as the purple plums in Jean’s garden, so they were.)
We sat upon the dry stone dyke, to partake of a small drop of cooking whisky, each choosing our favorite sheep. “I’ll get the clapdarnachs from Deirdre today, Torquil,” said Willie. “We have a good rapport going since she lost her leg.” He also selected Morag, Beverly, Lucious Linda, Moses, and the twins Annie and Fanny. As usual, that left me with Hilda Halitosis, Bucking Bertha, Bridget, Barbara, Camel Toes, Bandy Johanna, and yon big brute with the teeth, Caroline.
One dram led to another and then Willie fell off the dyke. Neither of us was fit for any harvesting.
When we sobered up, ten days later, Willie shouted from the dyke, “Torquil, come quick!” in an urgent voice, meaning either we’d run out of whisky or the septic tank was overflowing again. I ran as fast as I could.
When I saw the girls, naked, I knew that the phantom sheep crutchers had been at work again. We lost a whole season’s worth of clapdarnachs to that wicked band of shavers.
PC Hugh Dunnett has set up the mobile incident room down at the ferry terminal where there will be a mandatory inspection of all electric razors. Magnus, the bobby from the mainland, will be bringing his forensic DNA kit, once he pumps up the back tire on his bicycle and catches the next ferry over.
Meanwhile, we’ve had to postpone the release of the next Lovely Day Radio Show until Jean knits some woolen underpants for the sheep.
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2 comments:
What is sheep crutchings? My mother in Puerto Rico she want to know. My mother mucho confused again my friend.
Sheep crutchings is when you shave a sheep's bottom, Julio. I can't think why these folk do it because you just can't grow any clapdarnachs that way.
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