I bought the greatest old man wool sweater here. The kind that you own for the rest of your life and it looks better and better as it gets lived in. The kind that my grandson will one day pilfer from my closet because it smells like cigars, coffee, and citrus scented ski wax, “just like grandad used to.” You could say “it’s the bees knees.” The moment I put it on, I realized how greatly it complimented my crow lines and greying hair. Now before you go assuming that I’m being facetious, understand that I take great pride in the fact that I’ve lived a hard 50 years in only 30.
Besides, this sheep worked damn hard to grow that wool to support his family, the least I could do was buy local and show gratitude for his hard work. So maybe it wasn’t this particular sheep, but it could have been his mum, or at least a flock mate, I don’t know; but you don’t either, so I’m going to stick to my version, it’s a better story.