Snowin' and Blowin'

It's cold, snowy and very windy outside. The sun peaks through the clouds once in a while illuminating the hill rising up from the north side of the barn. It's very beautiful but I want to stay inside. I like being warm and sitting on the sofa with my dogs up against me and a big fleece spread out on the floor in front of me. It's Saturday and I'm playing with my wool in front of the wood stove. With the downdrafts and wood to big for the stove I have been having fits all morning getting the wood to burn. My eyes are stinging from the smoke and I'm tired of bending over the stove with a blow torch. But the warmth can't be duplicated by the electric heaters, and besides, I owe my soul to the electric company- again. The State made me remove the hay above me and there's no insulation up there. Long story and I've made up my mind to not even think about it until I can do something about it. I have to start shipping runs to the carding mill to be ready for Maryland. It's so much work, but still a joy for me to run my fingers through the buttery soft fibers. I'm trying to get the dyed fiber dry after running those pots for a week while I was off. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Matt got the dogs out 'cause he slept with his clothes on, too tired to change. The sheep have hay from last night but I'm sure they need water. I'm resisting getting dressed, as I have to rush out of here every morning to work, and it's just so nice to linger in my flannel granny gown, drinking coffee and munching on toast. I have to get into town to get my mail before Barb closes the window at 10:45 (!?) New Berlin stays open 'til 12 but my mail goes to Brookfield. I should change my address to get rural delivery but I don't want to spell "West E-d-m-e-s-t-o-n" to everybody, which is where my mail really comes out of. They told me I was moving to Brookfield and that's what I got in my head. I'm almost finished sorting a lovely black fleece that was full of burrs but was very savable. Can't wait to see these runs when they've been carded. Oh, what a Motherlode of roving for me to sell over the summer and fall season. After all, I am in the wool business.