So this year we were in the line with our two lambs and shock horror, the judge started to look at our sheep. We had already had the family group class and the pair of ewes class and as we are now quite used to, we got nowhere, but this time I turned to Sarah and quietly mumbled, 'Fuck me baby, he's looking at our sheep'.
There are four rosettes handed out in each class so we were getting really excited that we might finally win a rosette. The judge walked up and down the line of sheep and kept looking at ours - we knew we were in there somewhere, and then blow me if he didn't walk right up to us and give us the blue rosette - we politely and coolly said thankyou but inside we were exploding with excitement and pride. It was a really nice moment in our sheep career - we gave ourselves ten years to win a class and in our ninth year we did it.
And do you know what the most gratifying part of it all was, several other breeders, including proper farmers, came up and said how pleased they were and how nice our lambs were looking.
And even better, in the breed championship - that's the sort of play-off between the winners of all the classes - we got reserve champions, so all in all it was a fantastic day for our little flock of woolly beasties.
And I know in the great scheme of things in this universe, keeping Whiteface Dartmoors and going to Widecombe Fair is all about as uncosmic as you can get really, but I like it. It's like it used to be when I was a kid - Nothing much going on but a nice feeling of being with friends and talking about not very much. Winning a rosette makes it extra special too!
