Thursday, August 23, 2012

Oh, Dear

I wrote a long, newsy post and it failed to save or publish.  Very scary.  Are there sunspots afoot today, wreaking havoc in cyber space?    This diary, which recorded six years of my life, could be wiped out by one solar incident, or a drone hit on Google.  Have to get this baby printed one of these days...Mia says when I die, which could be sooner or later, there are ridiculously young deaths and incredibly long lives in my collective DNA, she is going to sell my blog to a publisher.  Good luck.  I wish I could write everything I would like to say, but my grandchildren can read now and I have to be careful.   OK, to recap....on deck for today.  Wash a mountain of dishes left to build up while I sewed the lovely Bundaflicka totes, all seven of them, that I sewed over the last three days.  It's been a marathon at the cutting table and the machine and it's been so much fun. Colorscape is looming large...I want to paint rolling hills dotted with sheep on my pop up tent.  Prizes are given out for artistically designed booths at Colorscape and I at least want to put in a good showing.  I don't know anything about painting and would love to learn.  When Luke, Hannah and I painted the Maggie's Farm sign last summer that was a big deal for me.  Lambs, Rudolpho and Marcello, are doing well.  R. doesn't want his bottle anymore.  Good news.  Will still watch him carefully.  I've had lambs from older moms drop dead on me before - heartbreaking.  I'm designing a stand-up knitting needle storage bag.  We'll see how that goes.  The flies are so bad I'm filling up sticky strips right and left.  Reba doesn't help any when she goes into an anxiety fit and pushes the screen out.  I went to the PO yesterday and forgot to shut the sliding window.  Got home and there she was, frantic in the driveway waiting for me.  Poor thing - she was dropped off next to a trailer in the neighbor's field and abandoned, pregnant and alone.  I keep telling her she has a home for life here, and talk to her, rubbing her ears, and stroking her, but she's still anxious.  If I didn't hate drugs so much I would ask the vet for some doggie happy pills for her. 

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