Hestra, the holy sheep, is having babies. This is why I couldn't find it out and about on the premise near the place I was vacationing over Easter. As I approached the enclosed stable rooms, however, I heard a familiar sound growing increasingly louder. Beh, beh, beh! “Hestra,” I shouted myself, and almost fell on my nose in the dirt as I stumbled towards the gate. Hestra saw me coming and almost jumped out of the shed – big belly or no belly. Such joyful sight. Hestra was over the moon and was already enticing all the other mothers and their babies to welcome me in the sun.

“Oh my,” I said to her, “so you've missed me?”
“I missed you too.”
“Beh, Beh.”
“I'm so glad they haven't turned you into salami.”
“Beh, beh, beh.”
“And how is it going in the kids department?”
“So they keep you at it?”
“Beh. Beh.”
“Well, better that than dead meat.”
“Beh, beh, beh.”
“This way we get to still see each other.”
“Beh, beh, beh, beh.”

It goes like this with me and Hestra, and it's always a grand pleasure to communicate with her. But this time, as I was also moving towards the opposite barn to see what the moo cows were doing aligning themselves with a lot of interest in my direction, I heard the whole bleating choir behind me. “Beh, beh, beeeeh, beeeeh, beh, beh, beeeeh, beeeeh.” “All right, all right, I'll come back right now," I had to say, just to calm down Hestra and the sisters. But Hestra wanted to make sure I was going nowhere. She was half ways out on my side, and I wondered what I should do, catch it, or let it catch me. You never quite know with sheep. My sister was astonished at such excitement, and all she could say was this: “by Jove, I understand that you want to come and see this sheep every year, and if I didn't know you any better, I'd swear you'd make the Swedish boy an offer he can't refuse and sell you the whole goddamn farm, the runic stone included.” I said to her: “maybe you don't know me any better.” “Beh,” said Hestra, and I could tell that this one sheep was worth more than a whole world. At least it made me sure of one thing: that if I won't hack it as an academic, I'll excel sublimely in the sheep business.


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