Bubble Bubble

After a morning a tad out of sorts over a variety of things including the slowness of my sprained ankle recovery which does not allow me to put my foot into a snow boot (!!!) I took the doggies out with my shorties on. The snow is deep but the dogs had made a nice little trail going up into the pasture.  I found two dead chickens who I fear must have been played with to death by Young Bertha.  I may have considerable angst over my chickens but do not want them to die that way.  The bright sun sent a bit of vitamin D into my veins, or mind rather, and I felt much better.  I decided to get a dye pot going, the first of the season.  My washer is not hooked up due to the work that Matt is doing to install my new slop sink.  I put wool, dye, a bit of soap, and citric acid into the pot along with Deep Magenta dye.  We'll see how this works.  Ordinarily I wash the wool in the washing machine then put it into the prepared dye pot still warm.  I love to imagine the colors I'll blend together.  I have LOTS of fleeces to sort through. .I had to move a giant pile away from where Knut is tied in the barn.  The chickens get to them, too.  The 30 or so birds I caught the other night escaped - again - probably through the door that does not fit properly.  Several men have told me No Way, they can't get out of that space above the door, including young Loren, the latest to work on the chicken room.  Guess I'll have to get the Amish in here.  No more chasing chickens around the barn.  No wonder my ankle isn't getting well.   Back to stir my dye pot, a lovely thing to do as the page turns on 2012.  I have no idea what my kids are doing tonight.  I'll call them later and they will politely chat with me, but it's not the same once they move away and live their own lives.  Better go hug a lamb.