White World

The farm is covered in snow again. A much hyped storm came through, but was not nearly what they described. The radar and forecast made it look much worse, and, after a harrowing commute on Monday, I decided to stay home on the farm. I was worried about getting stuck at work and not being able to get home to the bottle lambs, as the brunt of the storm was expected later in the day. We did have a nice little snow, just enough to make everything pretty. I got a fair amount done, including dyeing my first fleece of the season, a pretty white Bluefaced Leicester, which is now chartreuse. Oh, it's lovely. I have two burners working on the dye stove, which is enough as I can only fit two giant pots on it. I have four bags going, which I was determined not to do, as you go on sewing forever before you have one to hang up. Suddenly you have four, but it's an eternity. I thought I would accomplish more on my precious "sheep day" but I spend too much time doting on the critters, stoking the wood stove, feeding them and me, checking FB and Yahoo for bulletins from civilization. One trip to the PO and suddenly the day is over and it's time for evening chores, which tend to go on forever. The coyotes are singing up a chorus on the hill. The White Boys are responding with their own deafening chorus, telling the varmints not to come close or they will have them for dinner. I have no doubt that they would. Those Boys are half wild themselves and would like nothing better than to tear some coyote limb from limb. Truth be told I love the coyotes and enjoy standing by the barn in the dark listening to them. That wild yipping and yowling makes the hair on my neck stand up, but it's wonderful. I adore wild things, and was grateful the White Boys are locked in the barn, guarding the lambs which is their job, and where they can't hurt the coyotes. I thought I would sew but I think I am going horizontal. Nighty-night.