Beth Wester Ross

By bethceol

Yaba dabba dooooo!

Dimairt is happy when I am out at the peat, as long as I constantly throw a piece of heather for him.

What a great day - out in the sun, turning the peat for a couple of hours. I then spent the rest of the sunny afternoon reading a book in the garden.

Do I feel guilty?

Not a jot.

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