Jacob Sheep

I couldn't resist this mother and child today. There's a small herd of Jacob sheep has been inhabiting a large field at the foot of Glen Massan, but today we found them enjoying the lush grass of the field owned by people we know further up the glen. Apparently they're only borrowing the field, but they looked very happy. I think they're incredibly quaint - in the distance they look for all the world like very small cows.  

A strangely torpid day as far as I was concerned, even though I've given up the co-codamol I was given for my cracked rib. I found motivation to do anything very hard to come by, and spent much time on Twitter and listening to various analyses of the weekend's vote in the European elections. One thing stands out, even in my torpor. Although in my constituency of Argyll and Bute the turnout was reckoned to be high at almost 40%, it still seems insanely low for a vote that could influence us all in the coming years. What on earth do the people who don't vote think they're doing - or not doing? And as for women who choose not to vote, or who just can't be bothered - do they never think of the suffragettes who suffered so that they could enjoy full citizenship?

I discovered to my horror last week that a woman I count as a friend wasn't intending to vote because "we should be out anyway, and I don't know any of the candidates". And I realise I am indeed turning into a Victoria Meldrew figure, grumping at everyone. Best just look at some sheep ...