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out a young, slim girl with long flowing hair. HopAlong didn’t know that she would have a companion.
“This is my boyfriend, NutJob,” she explains.
That brings a look of surprise from HopAlong.
“NutJob?”
“Just call him Dave, that’s his real name, he can explain his nickname later, it’s a long story!”
“Delighted to meet you … Dave! Call me HopAlong, everybody does. Gammy leg you see. That’s also a long story!”
The waitress brings some more tea. The tray has an elegant China teapot, with matching cups, all of which are tastefully decorated with an eye catching picture of the Ulverston fire breathing wolf.
“We long ago retired from mainstream farming,” says EarlyBird, “and over the past five years we’ve been trying to generate an income from raising llamas.”
HopAlong chips in, “selling their wool.”
“It’s a delightfully soft and warm wool,” says EarlyBird, “which gives clothes an enviable, luxurious feel.”
“But it’s a costly business,” says HopAlong, “with the price we needed to sell the wool at, the clothes just ended up being too expensive, and the whole thing is just not viable.”
EarlyBird continues, “llamas are delightfully affectionate creatures, they’re curious, and they love human interaction.”
“But ours could be a bit mischievous and temperamental!”
“Anyway, the llama farm has ceased.”
“Now, I keep a few chickens and two goats, HopAlong has a vegetable garden, and we’ve been thinking about using our smallholding to run a stable or something similar. Nothing too demanding though!”
“His tedious leg injury and my old age, mean that we don’t want to manage fields. No crops, no herds of animals, just something simple that we can operate in an old converted llama compound. Maybe horses?”
“Employing a farmhand or two,” adds HopAlong, “I’m not doing it all myself!”
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