Sunday, March 16, 2014

Beware the Ides of March

Weather was mild  promised and remained throughout the day.  Snow and cold came back by evening.  I got out to the PO and was delighted to receive the camera charger and batteries Mia sent me.  I was without a camera for a month or so and the Canon point and shoot Mia gave me was dead.  Now I can show off some lovely totes I'm working on.  Motored on to the Louis Gale Feed Mill and picked up more pig feed and cracked corn to get me through the week.   I delayed chores until after I got back, which took me until almost one to finish.  I cut out some knitting totes, needle holders and yarn pockets until dinner, then set about chores until ten.  I swear if I keep up like this I will have to skip Md. for lack of product.  I did not regret being outside and looking at the moon, which I might have missed had spouse had decided to help with chores.   The moonlight showing through the slats of the barn as I forked down hay was delightful.  I opened the magnificent big doors to the upper hay mow (every year I say I'm going to put matching Christmas wreaths on them with a spot light) and was treated to a breathtaking view of the hillside, covered with snow and illuminated by the moon.  Clouds raced by chased by a cold wind and bright stars twinkled here and there.  It's moments like that when I'm reminded why I'm here.  I needed a little boost, as I found my beloved Lilly in the back of the barn, lying by herself.   I think the pig pen episode took a toll on her.  Two mornings ago when I was taking the pigs out of the sheep pen and into the pig pen, Lilly followed.  I tried pushing her back in where she belongs, but no deal.  I was in my work clothes, and running late, and thought okay, now she can spend the day with the piggies, who get along with the sheep just fine.  That night Lilly was not in the pig pen, nor were the pigs, and I marveled at how the three of them managed to get out.  Maybe it was the ample amount of food, or the exertions of getting out of the pig pen, I don't know.  Lilly won't get up.  I gave her Vit. B complex, and water with molasses.  I figure Lilly will be 13 years old on Easter.  I am ridiculously attached to her.   Sheep don't ordinarily live that long but Lilly is special.  She was born to a BFL/Romney cross purchased from Lisa Rodenfels in Ohio, and a purebred Bluefaced Leicester ram.  She is long and lovely, with ballerina legs.  I put slices of apples in her mouth and she spit them out.   This is serious.  Woe is me. On deck for today - taking care of Lilly and all the other lives that depend on me - and sewing.  Sewing is good.  I also have the cutest bunnies in the world that need tending to.  The babies are ready to be separated from mom.  I'm anxious to get them out of the milk room and into the big barn where the ventilation is better.  Oh, those bunnies.  They really are the cutest things, and the angora is to die for.  Good day to hug a bunny.

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