Anyway, I'm pleased to report that there has only been one more loss since last time I saw them, and the owner now has half the hoggets she had but the ones that are left are looking better than they were. The bloom has returned to their coats and they're putting on weight, finally. It's gratifying, after all that death, to see the kind of health that you're supposed to see in teenage sheep.
The dagging process is pretty straightforward. You grab your unsuspecting sheep, make it fall over, and proceed to trim the wool away from around its bum. This wool gets dirty by virtue of us wise humans having bred sheep to grow wool in places where wool was never intended to grow, and thus it's in the firing line of anything that comes out the back end.
Dagging sheep with hand shears (blades) is.. interesting. Picture the biggest pair of scissors you've ever seen. Vis:
Now imagine trimming around the tender bits of an animal that is writhing, kicking and generally objecting (and maybe wetting itself). Imagine that said animal has large rocks of congealed green poop attached to its tender bits. It's a.. delicate process. I for one don't want to be responsible for ruining this animal's future sex life, and I'm very aware of how I would feel in such a situation.
The job was improved by tieke's Mum, who is a lovely lady, sticking around and chatting with me while I did it. She also gave me her teeny-tiny girl-sized blades, since she's got old and wise enough to have given up manhandling sheep and won't be needing them any more. Yay tieke's Mum!
Delousing is much simpler. You put your sheep in a small enclosed space and squirt a line of StuffTM along their spine from neck to tail. The trick is not to get any on you. It's composed of Poison, Death and Infernal Rashes, all mixed together into one insanely nasty concoction. It kills the lice, it's amazing it doesn't kill the sheep as well.
And then you let the sheep go, all clean and tidy and sorted. And you go and scrub yourself from head to toe with a nail brush.
I love that my life is full of such extreme contrasts. Keeps me honest.
We also looked at a flat for xhile, which was nice and sunny and Very Very Yellow. And it has hobbit cupboards! *squee* I am a big fan of the idea of him getting his own sunny flat. Because neither of us wants to move straight into one of those couply living together situations (yes yes, I see the irony that right now we are sharing one room, but that is temporary), and also because my house is anything but sunny, and I can picture the lounge/beanbag/book/sunshine scenario being in our future, and it's a nice picture.
I did shopping! And bought actual food! And cooked it! And nobody's come down with paralysing stomach cramps yet! *whispers* I scare myself sometimes.
And this week, I get to spend three days in meetings with the moderation team. Don't you wish you were me?
I have issues with marketing. Although I understand the necessity of marketing for business, the inherent dishonesty and need for 'spin' in marketing, coupled with the unrealistic approach taken by marketers, to be mildly disturbing at best, and downright infuriating when it's marketers interfering with what I do.
This week, we've all been given a directive from the marketing team that we must have a standard signature on all our emails. It's a huge unwieldy thing with everything short of a google map on how to get hold of me. It's all in the name of 'branding' (yes, Branding is the god that replaces Compliance apparently). Anyway, I squashed my innate rebellion at the idea of being told I have to conform to some inane standard, and started to change my sig (which had my job title, company name and phone number). Until I got to the bit where..
.. my emails, that I send out from my company email address, have to have my company email address in the signature!
Can anyone tell me why this would be necessary? Is there logic in this somewhere, and I'm just missing it?
Can I just say WTF? These people get paid for this? Argh!