Out of Sorts

Left early yesterday morning to drive almost 50 miles to a staff development meeting at our sister BOCES vo-tech school in Walton, the hamlet in the Catskills where NYC gets that delicious mountain water.  I always make it by the skin of my teeth (I swear I need a 12 step program on lateness) and the speaker was about to be introduced when I, and a few others, came huffing and puffing in the room.  My phys. ed. teacher friend Chad motioned for a seat by the projector and spared me the honor of parading around a crowded room looking for a chair and accentuating my tardiness.   I was accompanied by Aimee, our new librarian and preacher's wife, who was relieved to see me behind her at the traffic light in Sidney, as she didn't know where she was going and thought it was divine intervention when I pulled up behind her.  I like the idea that everything we do is part of a plan, but I know better, and don't want my free will negated either.    The speaker was fantastic, all about Strength Based Teaching, a noble concept which requires a Christ like patience and love for the abused and downtrodden trusted to our care.   My Mother Theresa badge is showing a bit of a tarnish lately.  Have to polish it off.  No matter how good a speaker is, sitting in one chair all day is torture for someone used to hopping around all day long.  They gave us a tasty lunch and I managed to tuck a few cookies and brownies into my tote bag to bring home to spouse.  Wouldn't you know I was so strung out on the way home I ate most of them.  Took me a while to get over my crankiness and get some things done.  I'm still working on fiber and think I will make my 100 pound goal.  John at Frankenmuth should have received my fiber at the mill, all 56 pounds worth.  I'm always relieved when he gets it unpacked and weighed and sends me the invoice.  Then I know it's in the pipe line.  I have several lovely black fleeces to skirt and take to Maryland.  Still working on getting coats on my black sheep.  It would be worth the effort as coats would eliminate the sunburned tips and enable me to charge more for the wool.   Shepherds are eternal optimists, like most farmers, as there is always next year.  I do have one sheep who has the thickest, loveliest black fleece.  She is a BFL/Morehouse Merino cross, with slow growing wool that has no tips at all.  Will get her shorn and try to sell her fleece.  I  might get some of my black BFL made into felting batts.  Still have a bee in my bonnet about felted bags and want to get a lesson from my felting guru Susanne Hamilton who turns out the most amazing and fabulous hats and bags from my wool.  I trade wool for her very sturdy and beautiful shaving cups.  I love using my wool roving as currency.  On deck for today - a bit of housekeeping as there is a quality of life issue to consider here.  I work a tough job to the best of my ability but I come home to a madhouse at a time of the day when a great many souls have already sapped most of my energy.   I have a dishwasher now, but there is a mountain of dishes so high in the sink I can hardly get to the faucet.  I have to sidestep debris of all kinds to walk across the floor.  I'll get it done little by little while caring for many little souls of other species here on the farm.   I stayed up too late and got up too early, but life is so precious and I want to be conscious of every bit of it before I pass over to the other side of the creek.   I sleep as little as I have to to function properly.  Makes me a bit cranky at times but hopefully God will forgive me and keep me healthy so I can get it done.