More trucks have been (and gone). More piles of earth have appeared on the piece of land beyond Granny's wall. 'It can't be a house, anyway,' Beloved says. Maybe so. But nothing else is clearer.
No sign of a kid yet, from black and white Isobel. The fractious goat couple are back together again. Beloved is muttering about a 'phantom pregnancy.' It happens, apparently, even in animals (other than human animals, ie.) Now if there's one thing we don't need round here it's a neurotic - or hysterical goat. Don't think cabrine psychotherapy is the answer either. Just imagine it....
'Bleat'. 'Oh? Yes.' Interested silence. Goat moves about restlessly. 'Bleat.' 'Oh.' inquiring look, chin propped on hand. 'Bleat.' Goat shoves therapist. Therapist (very calmly) 'No, don't do that. Please don't'. 'Bleat.' Therapist, retreating again but even more - enforcedly - calm, head on one side. 'You seem distressed? Are you feeling distressed this morning,' 'Bleat'. Ad infinitum, Etc, etc etc. Visitor this week turns out to be a psychotherapist; I'll ask her what she thinks. Or maybe I won't. No, I'm not knocking psychotherapy, far from it, it's helpful. But I don't think psychotherapists like being laughed at either. (More than most of us they must have the odd doubts about what they do. They'd be worse therapists if they didn't, wouldn't they?)
An animal psychologist on the other hand? Now that's a thought.
Oh: and I'd almost forgotten. IT'S UP!! Here.