May 1, 2019
The Hippy, Hippy Shake
The Hippy, Hippy Shake
God, cow shit smells awful. It’s evening and I’m sat by the stove in the kitchen. Supper has been and gone, candles are lit and cast their glow on the windowsill. I have a mug of Earl Grey tea and Irishman has his PG Tips and after some bickering, the three dogs have finally sorted out who gets to lie where. Ahh, how lovely I think to myself, what a wonderfully cosy domestic scene, a picture of…
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