Tears & Tea Towels...

That was fast. Much faster than I would have bet. Less than two weeks in, and have already been reduced to embarrassing gush of tears.

It’s the 4am fatigue talking no doubt, compounded by the occasional loud talking -- aka guttural shouting -- that has been emanating from a frustrated Mr H. His first unintelligible outburst came when I lost control of the cows, when I was meant to direct them in an orderly fashion from the barn. Oops. Then, yesterday my milk can overfloweth – and he failed to appreciate the aesthetic charm of the event. More shouting ensued. But there is indeed no use crying over spilt milk. I briefly chatted to Mrs H on the phone. She is the embodiment of maternal compassion. “Do you have any washing for me?” -- the hausfrau’s answer to the most intractable labour issue. She’s right of course: fresh tea towels make world a better place.