Wool and sheep, sex and turkeys (Rousse)

TPR and I were checking (a) the stream that was coursing all the way from the pond to under our bedroom window, and (b) the encroachment of teenagers on our property as they partied in the catacombs beneath the Edinburgh streets, when my American friend JG came to our back door with her friend Mary.

I had completely forgotten about their planned visit to the UK to buy wool from British sheep, and to learn how to sex turkeys.

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