Sheep

The reindeer mistress gave me a book about English sheep for Christmas. Perhaps she had me mixed up with Wesley the Sheep. But it made me think.

She never knew my dad but he was a wool buyer and an expert on the wools of Australia South Africa and New Zealand and their special qualities in the manufacture of felt. Felt is apparently one of the oldest fabrics and is not woven. The mill where dad worked manufactured mostly industrial felts for filters and the like and also for use as floor coverings before the days of fitted carpets.

He bought wool from samples often brought to him by salesmen and he could work out the quality from touch and sight using his office extension with the skylights, a bit like a mini greenhouse, which overhung the river next to the mill.

This was my first contact with South Africa and it is therefore fitting that England should be playing cricket there this week. Port Elizabeth and the Cape were the wool exporting centres and Merino sheep the favourite wool producers just like in Australia.

He would have been scratching his head at the thought of being able to watch the play ball by ball on TV as well as having the chance to listen to the game on the radio through TMS. But Geoffrey Boycott on TMS would have been the most flummoxing of all!

Bethlehem

Last Sunday evening was our carol service. We sang "O little town of Bethlehem" and "While shepherds watched their flocks by night". We listened to the familiar readings of the angels and the wise men and it made me think.

Good you may say. That's what going to church is meant to do for you.

But what was the thought? It was why do we never hear about Bethlehem in the Bible again? After all the shepherds saw and heard angels. Their message of good news and great joy, about a Saviour born and lying in a manger. "Glory to God in the highest" the angels sang "and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests". The shepherds were no slouches and spread the news around after they had been to see for themselves.

And then I reminded myself of the events that followed after Mary and Joseph fled the little town. When Herod's men killed all the baby boys two years old and under. And how much faith did they kill as well. Some peace on earth. Some favour to the men women and children of Bethlehem.

Singing about peace in the days up to and including Christmas is one thing. Finding peace amid the cruelties of this world is another. Yet I reckon this is where the Christmas message of peace is at its most profound. Because it comes out of the focal point of history, where BC became AD and God's Son came to experience the struggles, temptations, and cruelties of this world ending up crucified on a cross to bring us peace. So today is Christmas Eve and in the words of the carol:

"O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing"

Inqaba Makhaya

Makhaya Ntini began his 100th Test Match for South Africa this week on Wednesday in the game against England.

Inqaba means champion and champion he is as the first ethnically black cricketer to play for his country. He started life as a cattle herdsman in a village in the Eastern Cape. The young herder would walk behind the cows so that he could stand in the dung to keep his feet warm.

As a fast bowler he has a unique wide of the crease delivery action but his boyhood in the hills has given him the strength to ply his trade for over ten years at the highest level and take 388 test match wickets.

So I salute Inqaba Makhaya a true sporting superstar....and wish him a return of none for plenty as he hopefully toils away against the best of England in the remaining 3 days of this Test.

Wesley

Things have not been the brightest of late for Wesley.

His eyes brightened the other week when he saw all the rain in the Lake District. He thought of all his friends in Grasmere. But his face fell when the floods came and he wondered if even the hardiest Herdwick might be feeling just a tad damp.

Then this week Teapot decided to munch her way through a few slices of roast lamb with him looking over her shoulder. Enough to make the toughest sheep blanche.

He has also been worrying about the latest stories coming out of New Zealand where they are trying to breed sheep who do not fart in the interests of global warming and all of that. A sort of interference with a sheep's basic sheep's rights, if you know what I mean.

I have tried to tell him that some years ago I made a trip to a planet of the outer edge of the Crab Nebula. At one time there were elephants the size of dinosaurs roaming vast tracts of the planets surface all of which are now uninhabitable because of methane poisoning. Yesterday the Crab Nebula tomorrow New Zealand or Grasmere for that matter.

All a bit much for a little sheep's brain.

So let's hear it for Sean the Sheep. A new series has started this week and Wesley is Sean's greatest fan. He is glued to the TV grinning from ear to ear as Sean leads everyone else a merry dance night after night. Long may he rule the sheep pen.