The children are off school today. It is a staff training day. I thought I might have managed a bit of a lie in, no manic rushing around to get packed lunches, PE kits, trombones and saxophones, as I send one off to the bus and pile the other two into the car for the school run, no this morning all was peaceful.
That is until I was woken just after 7am by the sound of trombone music coming from outside. I surfaced to see my son cut a solitary figure in the front field, as he stood alone, playing away on his trombone. I clapped from the window when he finished and watched as he made his way back to the farmhouse. How thoughtful of him not wanting to waken his sisters he had gone out to the fields to play his music, or so I thought. I did wonder at the holiday people in our cottages, whose windows would be wide open as it was such a hot night, at what their thoughts would be on getting a solo from the trombone at 7am.
When I praised my son for being so thoughtful and not wakening his sisters, but practising outside, he looked up sadly at me.
‘I wasn’t practising. I was playing for Dribbles. Dribbles is dead.’
Dribbles the pet lamb is no more. I took heart in the fact that my son bless him, was giving Dribbles a good hebridean send off, and suggested he go and play the tune he has been driving us all mad with, on his chanter. He practices his chanter morning noon and night. He insisted he is not yet good enough on the chanter to play it for Dribbles, hopefully one day that chanter will be attached to a set of bagpipes and then he will be perfectly equipped for occasions such as these.
Good news came in the form of our eldest daughter, who madly in love with her new horse, has kindly said that her brother can adopt Frizzle, her pet lamb, instead. Give my son his due out of all of the children he has been the best at feeding the lambs and caring for them so it did seem a bit cruel that it was his lamb that went and died. As I have said before the happy farmer says a sheep’s ambition in life is to die, let’s hope the remaining two lambs make it!
Until next time…
My husband, an ex Hampshire farmer, says exactly the same about sheep...prime ambition, to die, in as many ways as possible!
ReplyDeleteHow sweet of your son to play a little dirge for the lamb.
Oh no, poor Dibble! What a lovely picture, your boy in the field playing a lament. Hope his inherited lamb survives!
ReplyDeleteit's amazing how country children are so matter of fact about life n death. it's something that just happens.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely idea, a lament for the lamb. I'd better send Hannah and her recorder out to play something for our ewe which died on Saturday! Yesterday's blog about your daughter and the new love of her life reminded me so much of my own horse, Jamie, and being young and in love with him that I burst into tears in the bath this morning. I may do a blog about Jamie one day, but it'll be a sad one.
ReplyDeleteWe often here a lone piper here, Breton not scots I love it. tel him to keep trying he will get there!
ReplyDeleteDribbles? - I guess it was the dreaded 'watery mouth' that got him.
ReplyDeleteJust catching up on your blog - so sorry about the lamb but loved the image of the trombone lament! The lovely thing here is the opportunity seized by your daughter to be generous and caring to her brother!
ReplyDeleteLoved the photo of your house and can see the bench and imagine how nice it must be to sit there in the Mediterranean-like sun!
Enjoy.