Silbury’s Diary

 

 

Hello everyone.  I’ve been having a whale of a time recently and have had a good laugh at Ringsbury’s expense (but only from the other side of a fence).

 

It was very hot three weeks ago and the two hairy boys, Avebury and Ringsbury were sheared.  Obviously I was always the most handsome llama, but with those two scraggy beasts in the paddock with me, I have to turn away and have a quiet chortle to myself.  I consider myself a very fortunate llama – I have a short coat, but those other two have what people think is nice thick wool.  Well, it’s good for spinning and weaving, yes, but it doesn’t make you very comfortable in the hot weather does it?

 

So the boys were sheared and looked a pretty sorry sight at the end of it.  The reason for this is that our people decided to ‘help’ the shearer.  Shouldn’t have bothered if you ask me.  Having said this, within three weeks their coats have started to grow back pretty well, and Ringsbury (who likes to think he’s herd leader), doesn’t look such a softie.  Their fleeces ARE rather nice actually and a nice uniform colour, Ringsbury being a good solid grey, whilst Avebury is dark brown all over.

 

These fleeces have been sent to a mill for washing and carding, and when they have come back our female person will spin the wool.  She’s hoping to make some rugs, which will be rather nice.  Avebury said you couldn’t make an orange tea-cosy out of my fleece which was just sour grapes.

 

SOMEONE LEFT THE GATE OPEN, the other evening.  Our people are pretty careful about this sort of thing, and it was a visitor who boobed / did a good thing – depending on whether you’ve got two legs or four.  We hope he comes back soon.  Eight of us decided to make a break for it early one morning and at 6.30 last Wednesday morning we were spotted grazing contentedly in a neighbour’s garden.  What a merry dance we led a crack team of animal catchers.  An hour and a half it took them to round us up.  Ha Ha Ha.  When we got back, there was ol’ stick-in-the-mud Ringsbury standing at the gate plaintively asking where we had been and why we had chosen to go off without him and Long Meg, and pointing out that our people don’t like us running off, and that we mustn’t do it again blah, blah, blah.  What’s the use of being a llama if you can’t break the rules sometimes?

 

It was my birthday on Thursday 22nd June.  I was three.  Ringsbury (who as I said, likes to think he’s herd leader) is a whole day younger than me, but I’m the oldest of the ten of us.  Three is still pretty young for a llama, and it is generally reckoned that we’re not fully mature either mentally or physically till we are four.  I feel pretty mature now though.

 

Watch this space for some more llama chat soon.

 

P.S.  I’ve just seen the picture my people have put alongside.  It’s not fair, I’m in the middle of eating, with the typical llama figure of eight chewing action, and that picture just doesn’t show of my elegance.  I’m far more handsome that that.