I refuse to admit that a month has passed since I last blogged. More lambs birthed, doctors' appointments hither and yon, and just this month an emergency canine c-section to deliver Border collie pups.

The c-section (in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, thus an emergency) preceded a shaky 36 hours when Hope (mother dog) developed free fluid in her abdomen, the smallest pup developed seizures and was put down, and because of Hope's problems I took on the task of tube feeding pups every two hours, 'round the clock. This taught me that it has been eons since my days of pulling all-nighters in college. Yawn....I'm SO old!

After a second, exploratory, surgery, Hope spent the remainder of the week "in hospital" with yours truly chauffering pups to her in the morning and then home here to the farm at night so I could feed them. She was frantic without the pups, but wasn't in any shape to keep them with her unless someone was watching, thus the back-and-forth.

The pups (1 girl, 2 guys) will be 2 weeks old this weekend. Although they were premature, their eyes are starting to open. Within another week, I imagine they'll try to walk even though their eyes won't really be able to see much for awhile. It always seems like a day arrives when they determine that they are no longer allowed to crawl and must walk...whether or not they fall over constantly or have trouble getting to where they want to go.

It's been four years since BC pups graced the farm (well actually, a plastic swimming pool in my bedroom right now, as Hope wanted to hide them initially and between the two surgeries was absolutely psychotic; a situation that stopped with the second surgery and euthanasia of what she apparently knew was an abnormal pup). I'd forgotten how absolutely adorable puppies are and what good mothers they have here!

The doggie doings kept me from the shop, where tons of work awaits. At least I've been knitting here, making progress on several (numerous) pairs of socks of all sizes and types.

And, right after I ordered more #1 dpns, I found a bunch in a "lost" needle roll. Well, one can never be too prepared for sock knitting!

Off to catch up on all the sleep I've lost as this month began....

A red letter day: I started the knit-addicted stash-stowing task. I finally decided I'd better look at everything I own and categorize it by yarn type. I am soooo embarrassed. I have stuff I forgot about, totally. I found a pair of 3/4s done mittens on the needle still. And one finished mitten out of some of my handspun, with the ribbing cuff of the second on a needle. And....If I knit a pair of socks a week, I'll use up the sock yarn I already have in, oh, a matter of years or so! (That won't stop me from lusting after new sock yarns.)

After much cogitation, I settled on the following categories for yarn: superwash wools, feltable wools, sock yarn, alpaca, silks or silk blends, and novelty (ribbons, mostly). I have an excess of fuschia in all fibers, which I vaguely recall collecting for a specific project whose characteristics escape me now. I know it was for someone else, not myself. Hmmm.

Naturally, the impetus for doing all this....looking for two specific yarns I NEED to finish two pairs of socks....led to disappointment. I found every type of yarn BUT the ones I was looking for. I can visualize them in bags with other yarns, but those specific two bags are nowhere to be found. I might be making "fraternal" twins for the second socks, and hope nobody looks too closely.

Ron sent me home with an orphan, sick little lamb two days ago. I've been bottle feeding him regularly and giving him antibiotics and supportive nutrients. He seems less "hot" (temperature going down) but remains very stiff and doesn't move around much. This morning I gave him tetanus antitoxin in addition to antibiotic shots, and a few hours later he tried to follow the other sheep out to the field. He couldn't keep up and made it out of the barn but then started bleating pitifully. I carried him out to the pasture and put him down in the clean grass. I'm a proponent of fresh air and sunshine! At least he's brighter eyed and trying to move around.

I'm also feeding one of a set of triplets, who is now a real pet, running up to me, following me around, talking to me. In a pen in the barn, I have a ewe with mastitis and her twins, who also drink a bottle twice a day. I gave the ewe a big dose of penicillin this morning. She eats well and is hale and hearty even though she's 10 years old. I hope the antibiotic helps. I'd hate to think it's her last year here.

All these "bottle babies" must be payback for my bragging that I don't get pet lambs from my good ewes! I normally don't keep anything that can't raise its lambs, and that way have reached the point where I usually don't have "bummer" lambs that need bottle feeding. This year is payback, I guess!

I want to start the sweater for my nephew, out of hand spun yarn from "his" sheep (born the same day he was). With all the books and patterns I've searched, I still haven't settled on a design. I'd like something with simple cables or something to make it less generic. I know he'd like a hood! He loves hats of all kinds.

It's been beautifully warm and sunny during the days, but at 6 a.m. I need a jacket. Yesterday morning, I even wore the great hat made from Rowen super chunky wool that my SP sent to me...Thanks, Pal!!

Yaawwwn....zzzz.....baaa!

This morning the "old gray mare" (an elderly sheep) finally went into labor and produced a huge and extremely oddly colored ewe lamb. The old lady's belly still looks huge, but there aren't any more lambs in there....I think she's just showing the aftermath of age, pregnancy, and sagging muscles. (I can sympathize with the latter, at least! After adolescence, gravity is NOT our friend!)

The lamb seems determined to nurse on the side of the udder that is "dead"....has no milk due to a case of mastitis last year. The good side hangs much lower, which lambs usually catch on to once they've found it, but this one seems a bit dense where that's concerned. I fed her 4 oz. of replacement Colostrix from a bottle this evening. I didn't want to feed her much, because I want her to keep trying on the ewe until she learns where the milk comes from.

This mom was the last of the ewes to lamb here at FenCroft. There are more of the Leicester flock yet to lamb over on Pleasant Lake Rd., at one of friend Ron's farms, and there might be a yearling or three bred to lamb in about a month or more here at home. One is showing a tiny, tiny bit of "bag" (udder), but I can't tell if any others are pregnant.

A knitting disaster (well, sort of): In my hurry to run to the barn for a quick check, I failed to hide my project bag and came back into the house to find the ends chewed off of all the needles in a sock-in-progress, and a set of (gag! horrors!) EBONY double points slipped out of their paper package and chewed in halves. Believe it or not, none of the stitches fell off the sock in progress (it's just a simple plain Jane sock); however, slipping the stitches over munched bamboo led to a bit of frustration because just about every stitch caught, snagged, split, or something. The culprit? One of the greyhounds. I honestly am not sure whether it's Jello or Dottie. I'm not willing to sacrifice any more dpns just to see who has turned criminally inclined. (I could leave them one at a time with a tempting knitting bag in sight and within reach.)

The lamb born this morning is very odd: Snow white head with big black circles around her eyes, very black legs and belly with two very white "bracelets" around her back legs, big very black spots on her body, but these are on a background of mottled gray....kind of like a blue merle dog. Her father is white and her mother's black (well, gray with age now); her grandparents were moorit badger and gray, moorit and gray badger. She is definitely a California Variegated Mutant of a different variety.

A swarm of honey bees went at my apple trees today. As I approached a gate to shut the sheep out of the pasture south of my house, I could hear the bees buzzing when I was still about 15 feet away from the tree. They looked like they were in heaven. The apple trees have more blossoms than I've ever seen before. I'm not sure how that will translate to fruit, but if bees polinating them is a good thing, then I might as well think positively! I don't use pesticides (because of the birds, etc.), so I never get a very good crop....sheep feed is about it. It will be interesting to see what happens this year. The pear trees didn't have as many blossoms, and my two peach trees look dismal. Rhubarb survived the sheep attack of last year, and is coming back. I think I'll leave it this year and not pick any, since the plants are definitely smaller than before last spring's sheep feast.

I actually bought new batteries for my camera so I can show knitting works and critters here, but now I can't find them. I'll blame it on the fact that I've had few full nights of sleep in the past month. The day before that old ewe lambed, I spend two hours walking the farm, trying to find her. I swear she was constantly moving to where I had just looked, sneaking around behind me, because it shouldn't take two hours to find a full grown sheep, off on its own, in a space that's only a total of about seven acres. She had been hiding the day before that, and I was worried that she'd have trouble lambing or the lambs would need help eating, so when I finally found her last night, I "herded" her a couple hundred yards back into the barn, where I gave her a big pen, hay, and fresh water. Since she lambed so early this morning, I'm glad she was in the barn and I didn't have to search again!

They're predicting dry weather for another four days or so....that will probably be the first solid week to ten days that it has not rained here this year. I'm afraid we're looking at very little rain this summer....not good for pastures or those of us who have to buy hay for next winter.

Enough! I can actually go to bed without first going out to the barn. Sigh. Bliss.

Where went April?

Lambs, lambs, everywhere, and every one does bleat! I'm beginnning to hear sheep in my sleep (and believe me, sheep farmers do NOT count ovines to fall asleep).

A month and more passed without me even noticing. That emphasises just how busy things are around here! And this week we did more shearing of Ron's flock.

A highlight of the month: A BIG THANK YOU to my Secret Pal. I received the most wonderful Rowan super bulky yarn and a pattern for a hat to make with it (a one-hour project, just my style!), needles, and a plethora of adorable sheep items: little notepad with pen, magnet, ornament (now hanging on my rear view mirror), farm puffy stickers, cute card, and all wrapped in pretty pink paper with fantastic sheep ribbon!! And the ribbon matched the notepad and magnet! I'm super impressed.

I've been working on various sock projects during the "waiting times" either at doc's offices or during lambing vigils. I even found one finished sock in an old bag that I'd forgotten completely. Now, if only I can find the matching 50 gram ball of yarn for its mate!


I bought new batteries for my Nikon, so I hope I can take a roll of film, have it put onto disc, and then post photos to this blog...knitting, sheep, etc.

I'll be having another minor surgery May 18th: Hope all the lambs have arrived before then! No big deal, but I won't feel like doing chores for a few days, so I'll find someone to feed the sheep...I hope. Maybe they'll be out on pasture by then.

Back out to check on the beasties....

What a week! Squeezed in a biopsy, a couple Dr. appointments, and shearing the sheep...and it's not quite Friday, yet.


Looks like there'll be more minor surgery (in and out the same day, we're hoping) on April 20, with a few appointments to take up time before then. At least right now it doesn't look like anything Big, which is good since the wee lambs will be popping next month! The biopsy didn't show anything really Bad but wasn't totally Normal either, so it will be a relief to have the procedure over with and, with luck, get back to "normal" for a middle-aged lady!


The fleeces on the CVM/Romeldale flock are beautiful this year. I guess all the corn I've been feeding helped. I managed to last through the 34 sheep here, but didn't make it over to Ron's in the afternoon when they did the rest of my 50 Border Leicester/Bluefaced Leicester/Cheviot ewes. I handed the guys boxes of big heavy bags to put individual fleeces in, but I have no idea what kind of mess I'll find when I open those sacks! Ron warned me that they had a lot of chaff in their fleeces.


I had about 28 of the sheep here covered with coats, so those fleeces are spotless. I'll have to give serious consideration to entering some in wool competitions this summer. I have lots of shades of gray and moorit, and some have exceptional crimp. They all feel soft, too. Fun!


I've been sore and tired since the biopsy on Monday, but I'm hoping that a prescription they phoned into the pharmacy for me today will get me back among the world of the living. I've been doing chores (more than I'm supposed to be tackling, but sheep gotta eat), then basically putting my feet up. Have not even done much knitting (except in the waiting rooms of doctor offices).


It's officially Spring: thunderstorms this a.m. had the dogs refusing to go outside until the sun came out around 10!

Secret Pal10 "pals" have been assigned...

I received my SP10 "assignment" and also received a nice email from my secret pal. As somebody, myself, who is around yarns, etc. every day, it will be soooo fun picking out things for my SP. Marj, owner of the LYS, will be thrilled about it too, I'm sure. And it is always fun to share with "the gals" at the LYS not only the incoming but the outgoing packages! Let the shopping begin! (Oh, how I love shopping!)

It's almost St. Patrick's Day. Where have the weeks gone? I'm sure it was February 3rd just yesterday, wasn't it?

It's been unseasonably warm for two days. Mud, mud, and more mud. When you drop a skein of yarn in your front yard grass and it comes up muddy, that's pretty bad! (And it was a nice skein of Opal sock yarn, too...I brushed it off and figure I'll knit as is and then wash it, rather than unwinding and rewinding it for a thorough washing now.)

It must be spring fever: The ewes are butting heads (silly things), the male dogs are posturing and grumbling at each other (without Craig, they need to establish a new pack leader), and I am itching to both knit and spin and am thoroughly frustrated that I can't do both, constantly, immediately, and simultaneously! This is when it gets dangerous and I lay aside UFOs in order to start something new! and exciting!, and yet another something new! and exciting! and before I know it I have three pairs of socks with 1 and 1/2 sock finished plus whatever else piques my fancy. I'm trying to be self-disciplined.

The other danger when I get into these frustrated spells is the dreaded Stash Proliferation. Because I'm using such and such a yarn or roving for this or that project, I rationalize buying something new for the next project. At least I've resisted this part of Spring Fever thus far.

The bluebirds are fighting over boxes, owls are noisier than ever at night, and flocks of geese create such a racket overhead that I can't hear myself call the dogs! It's amazingly warm after the bitter cold we had so recently: 50s! The only down side (if it can be called that) is the mud and standing water everywhere, some of it still deceptively hidden under a bit of snow so you hit it and heels slip out from under you.

I finished the little lace socks for Xylia, and have started an adult pair. It's a REALLY simple pattern in the sock-shaped Knit Socks! book. I wanted something mindless that I could do at the shop, where inevitably whatever you're doing is interrupted (when we're lucky!) by customers.

I can't believe it's March 11 already! St. Patrick's Day looms, and I'm starting to worry about shearing the ewes. We take the shearer(s) whenever available, so all we can do is let them know we're ready and then wait for their call. And hope they make it here before the ewes start lambing. If they have full fleeces, it means they aren't encouraged to eat more right when they need it most, the wool brings a lot of moisture into the barn, the lambs have trouble finding the udder, and the ewes are less sensitive to where their lambs are and, although none of mine ever have, sometimes lay on a lamb. Also, if they have a difficult delivery, a touch of mastitis, or anything else, it can adversely affect the wool.

With all the wet weather and mud, a few of the ewes are limping. They need their feet trimmed, which we usually do at shearing time, too. And I'm determined that their "coats" (covers) will go right back on them at shearing time, before they're released.

Friday was Phoenix's third birthday. He called me to thank me for the box I sent to him, and although I only understood about 55% of what he said, it was clear that the John Deer toy and DVD, the hat (a bit big, but better that than too small), and the other little things (stickers, etc.) were a hit.

According to my brother Dave, they've all been sick with a respiratory bug. On the plus side, Xylia is a very easy baby, and Andrea's already back to doing accupuncture treatments to her regular clients and, when they called me, she was baking cookies. Wonder woman!

I'm putting together a "Xylia" box, with a fleece/satin blanket (sheep pattern, of course), a little pair of overalls (I gave a set to "farmer Phoenix" and have to be non-sexist, of course) that have a little lamb in the front pocket, lamb socks, a lamb bib, and a lamb top that matches the overalls.

I haven't been very good company lately, probably because I'm worried about the health problems that will be further investigated on the 19th. Fingers are crossed that it's something easily fixed. Once you've battled the big C, it seems like you're always looking over your shoulder, even more than ten years later!

I'm working on getting a digital camera, just a simple one. I'd like to document my knitting and spinning projects, rovings, etc. so this blog is less of a diary and more of a fiber page!

I downloaded some Old Shale (Feather and Fan) sock patterns and might start on a pair of those. Then again, I should start thinking about something for the men in the family...maybe cables? Suggestions for a simple cable sock?

Does the cold make a person stupid?

I'm looking for any excuse....

I prefer thinking I'm more slow-witted than usual to wondering if I've gone bonkers. This past weekend whirled out of control rather quickly, leaving me feeling like a piece of last week's newspaper blown about by a very cold wind.

First, I was stopped -- and ticketed -- for a cracked windshield. Although it cracked about four months ago, it's apparently only now in imminent danger of shattering? Cracking all the way through? Something dire, posing grave risk, at any rate. (If you suspect irony, you get an A+.)

And here I was waiting until it was at least a tiny bit warmer to get the poor glass man out here to replace it, since they do it right in your driveway. The patrolman wasn't nearly as altruistic. I've passed him in our tiny town, looking out from behind my cracked windshield, any number of times in the past four months. Apparently the crack, although looking the same to me, wasn't as serious in the past as it was Saturday. Maybe the cop wanted to get a good start on his March citations. Sigh.

The downward slide in mood continued when it was revealed to my cold-numbed? brain that I have not the $50 deductable for windshield replacement that I thought I remembered from the last time the truck glass was changed, but a $100 deductable.

I still must call the county to find out how much the ticket will cost. I have ten days to do so. So far, I haven't wanted more bad news.

On Monday, the 5th, I realized that Mr. Policeman returned my driver's license with the ticket, but not my proof of insurance. Nervous from being pulled over for the windshield ticket, I didn't want to risk not having a copy of my insurance details in the truck. As I drove to my State Farm representative's office for a replacement, the "low fuel" light came on, and I realized I had a whopping $5 in my wallet. It took a record 40 seconds to pour it into the gas tank.

And, later the same day, I was sure I smelled propane. Looking like an idiot, sniffing around the house like a hound, I decided it wasn't really strong, but I should probably have carbon dioxide or gas alarms in the house.

So I drove, on that $5 of fuel, back to the town where the insurance office and hardware store do business, and plunked down $50+ (I remembered my checkbook this time) for a combination CO2 & gas detector. I sat out in the hardware store parking lot, cutting the package open to read the instructions and install the battery. (I think my thought, if I was thinking, was to have it working already as I carried it into the house.) I got a few odd looks, considering that I had removed my glasses and was holding the instruction book about two inches away from my nose. Well....the print was really really tiny. OK, I admit I need to make an opthalmologist appointment. The good thing about getting older is that I can see better at a distance. The bad thing is that the distance at which one reads, knits, spins, is increasingly blurry.

I drove home, carried my purchase into the house, plugged it into a power strip on the floor (per instructions, since propane settles toward the ground), and hit the reset button, as the instructions told me. Sound! Lights! Terror! The most incredible siren went off and lights started flashing on the tiny screen, and the word GAS came up, and what wits remained flew straight out of my head. I unplugged the detector in defense of my hearing, and debated whether to get all the dogs out of the house, open all the windows to the sub-freezing weather, call 911, and/or...what?

Thankfully, I decided to re-read the instructions. You might think me foolhardy, but honestly, I didn't smell anything when I came back in the house, and I figured if there really was a leak then I'd be MORE apt to smell something after being out in the fresh air. Logical?

The fine print informed me that sirens, lights, and the awful word GAS would indeed present themselves in the first few minutes as the detector set itself. Sure enough. I went through the ear-splitting procedure again, and the screen settled down eventually to a steadily pulsing dot and the numeral "0". Sigh.

That left me questioning my sanity, or at least my nose, because I really had thought I smelled propane. Maybe it was one of the dogs.

Three or four inches of snow are predicted for overnight. The only good thing about it will be the better footing snow gives on top of the shear, bumpy ice making up the yard, barnyard, and driveway. Hey. Maybe optimism is just around the clock. Hope springs, unlike Spring.

If it weren't for bad luck...?

Where did the past week go? Aside from Dr. appointments (more annoying than important) and "selling solo" at the yarn shop for a couple days (the Yarn Goddess is up north visiting her son/grandson/granddaughter and another yet unborn grandchild), I found myself yet again confronted with four-legged death.

A friend gave me Corriedale ewes. They arrived in late November or early December and went straight in with one of my rams, to have lambs in April/May. Nobody mentioned that they could have been bred to lamb in February, nor was I enlightened to the fact that these particular ladies don't see themselves as devoted mums. With all the fleece on them, I was totally unaware that their udders were becoming full (a few of mine, two months from lambing, show a little bit already...more than these did!).

During a temperature dip, two of the ewes lambed in close proximity both physically and time-wise overnight in single digit weather. Not good. Yesterday morning I found three dead frozen lambs right where they'd been born (the mother didn't even clean them off), and three others looking forlorn. I put the two ewes who'd obviously lambed in a large pen and fed colostrum to the three live lambs, who all looked premature. I continued to check on them every 3-4 hours and feed them via bottle (although all were nursing from the one ewe I believed to "belong" to these three, they obviously weren't getting their bellies full, so I was helping). I continued my vigil until about 2:30, when I checked and all had full bellies and didn't really want to eat much. They were SO small though. I'd put wool felt "coats" on them to help them out. I thought all was OK and I could sleep for a few hours. At 7:30 this morning, the dogs asked to go out and I jumped up and went out to the barn with bottle in hand. No need. Two of the three lambs had died: I think one was just too tiny and the ewe might have laid on the other. The remaining lamb had a full tummy and looks well. Maybe "mom" will only have enough milk for one lamb anyway: With luck, she'll continue to care for this one and he'll do fine. He wasn't at all hungry and doesn't want the bottle at all.

As if that weren't bad enough, my original moorit Romeldale ram was dead, smack dab in the middle of the barn, when I got out there this morning. He was fine at 2 AM! Ron only gave them about 35 lbs of grain (for 36 sheep), less than I usually give them, while I was at the shop, so it couldn't be grain bloat. When I got home, they were all bright eyed and begging for more hay. He was my oldest ram, but was "fat and sassy" and showed no signs of illness or any of the usual things that can descend quickly on a sheep: bloat, head injury from another ram, etc.

Needless to say, the fact that we're having an ice/snow/wind storm today through tomorrow just caps my marvelous mood. The power has been going on and off (quickly, coming back on within seconds luckily). I checked the sump pump (the house was built on an underground stream, I kid you not), and luckily the pressure of the water coming IN is countered by the standing water that just comes up to the pipe feeding in, so the level doesn't change if the sump pump stops. No flooding. Sigh of relief.

If I weren't so tired, I'd be knitting. I'm hoping tomorrow, a much needed day off, will find me finishing Xylia's little lace socks (one's done, one's started). Also OTN: a cabled heavy weight Bluefaced Leicester/kid mohair/silk sock at the point where I have to decide whether to make it for me or somebody else (how long a foot?); a pair of Wensleydale fair isle socks, both of which are at the same decision-time length.

Still trying to find a camera so I can post knitting pics....

Xylia. In girly-girl pink!

What a week that was! Sigh.

Time warps at supersonic speed sometimes.

Witness the past week: Old Craig, my sheepherding partner of over a decade (he came to me as an adult trained dog), started going downhill very rapidly and, when he refused to eat, I realized my responsibility to help him beyond this physical world to where pastures are always lush, sheep always appreciate being moved hither and yon by a wise Border collie, and no pain, worries, or woes befall our four-footed friends. '

Saying goodbye to a "good dog" is a process I experience too often because dogs simply don't live long enough. No matter that many working partners preceeded Craig; his passing leaves a large empty spot not only in my heart but in everyday life on the farm. Younger Border collies live here; none is ready to fill his pawprints.

As life often does, it blesses us with miracles even as we dry our tears. Xylia, sister to my 2 1/2 year old nephew (and our side of the family's first niece/granddaughter), entered this world "sunny side up" just hours after Craig was helped to the "rainbow bridge". Seven pounds, three ounces (same as brother Phoenix at birth), 20+ inches long, she cooperated with her parents' wishes by a) coming sooner rather than later (anticipating her due date by a few days, unlike Phoenix who dallied weeks beyond his!) and b) waiting long enough to avoid a major snowstorm and Valentine's Day birthday. Her dad says she looks like her mom (at least when she cries), and vice versa. She's blessed with lots of hair and a perfect cupid's bow mouth. I'm strictly objective, of course, but think she's awful cute.

On Saturday, I ended up not at the Spinners' Flock guild sale, but in the hospital. Nothing serious, just inconvenient and uncomfortable "procedures" that meant I missed the fiber fun at the winter Fleece Fair. All the roving, etc. destined for the event now must be unpacked and reshelved in my little retail room inside the yarn store in town. I want nothing more than to curl up someplace warm and knit for a couple weeks straight (with some spinning thrown in for diversity), but there's too much work to do.

Today, Sunday, I ventured out to pick up some corn for the sheep from a farm that specializes in selling bird seed. I put a drop of gas in the tank to make it there and back. On the way home, my "service engine soon" light came on. Thinking I'd failed to tighten the gas cap, I pulled over, tried that trick, and experienced a gullet grab when the light stayed lit all the way home. It seems like I was just at the dealership for oil change and a new serpentine belt. Oh, how I hate that "go to your dealer and spend money" dashboard display! It means I can't drive into Dearborn to visit my parents tomorrow.

A friend who frequents the yarn shop promised to bring in her digital camera, so I'm hoping to post project and yarn photos soon. Maybe that will help break up this text-heavy format!

Until then.....

Our "Spinners' Flock" meeting on Saturday saw 50+ sellers organizing for next week's "Winter Fleece Fair" in Chelsea, Michigan. On Sat. the 17th, we'll offer fleeces, roving, handspun yarns, spinning/weaving/felting/knitting/crochet equipment, books, patterns, and just about anything a fiber freak could desire at a sale running from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. in the cafeteria/assembly room of Beach Middle School.

In those short hours, the group will take in about $30,000; hundreds of knitters, spinners, and other fiber artists will leave with an unbelievable array of supplies and finished items. If there are any Midwest knitters out there, I'd urge you to attend. It's truly a one-of-a-kind experience. People come from surrounding states and Canada to shop!

I finished the fingerless gauntlets for my SIL. I hope to have a picture of them here, soon. Now I'm tempted to start some socks for me in some wonderful Bluefaced Leicester space-dyed yarn, running a lace weight kid mohair/silk thread with it for added strength, softness, and warmth. I'm feeling greedy: These might be for me!

The sheep are browsing the yard, nibbling on pine needles and dried grass along the fencelines. The 36 that are here (another 40 are at my friend Ron's farm), are now getting 150 lbs of grain every other day.

Even though the temperature is rising, the wind is also. It feels just as cold out there today as when it was below zero! Or maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me.

Hope to have some links up here soon, too.

TTFN.

Waiting for Spring?

Above-zero weather arrived today. So why am I chilled to the bone? It wasn't just me, either: At the shop, several of us were knitting or spinning while wrapped in hats and afghans! The gal who owns the barber shop next door came in, saw us, turned around immediately and retrieved a little heater-fan from her building and loaned it to us. We must have looked pretty pitiful! We're blaming it on the big plate glass window in the "class" room (known affectionately as the rehab room, Therapy Corner, etc.). On my way home, I stopped at the grocery store, where the cashier also complained of not being able to warm up. We're all ready for spring.

The sheep felt the warmer weather, however. They were out in the field, pawing through snow, hoping to find something green to eat.

I almost finished the second cabled fingerless gauntlet for my SIL today. Tomorrow is Spinners' Flock, our guild meeting. I didn't have the energy to load a wheel into my truck this evening, so maybe I'll get started on a new pair of socks while sitting through the meeting and socializing.

Cheers, all.

It's actually above zero degrees out in the barn! Oh, happy day.

I found my hat (not too dirty), and discovered that I might have made it too warm, with knitting a double strand in a thick 2 x 2 rib. Considering that I made the yarn from fine wool and alpaca (our wool), it is very toasty. I ended up taking it off midway through throwing hay bales around, then had frozen-sweat-hair under my hoodie by the time I walked back to the house.

Tip for frigid days: If in the company of another human, occassionally check your nose. If it's tooooo cold, your nose might be dripping and forming nostril-cicles without you being aware. I'm thankful nobody saw me this morning (well, other than sheep and dogs, and what do they care?).

I'm determined to get into the shop today. New fiber is coming from Ashland Bay (I thought it was all there....now I get a notice that 65 more pounds is due to arrive! HELP!), and I miss the laughter with my fellow knit/spin addicts.

Determined to change my fingerless mitt pattern to include a cable and a real thumb today, too....

WARM thoughts to anyone feckless enough to stumble upon this blog....

Best laid plans of mice and women....

Today was the day to dye (not die, dye). Unfortunately, the water at the shop is frozen and, since the hot water heater there was disconnected because it was leaking, there's no way to have fun mixing up a witch's brew of colorful fleece.

The building owner doesn't seem terribly perturbed by the frozen pipes. I'm wondering if they're about to burst! I'm hoping nothing above the dropped ceiling in my little shop (one room in the bigger yarn shop) gives way. I have a ton of valuable spinning fiber in there!

So I've taken the opportunity to schedule an overdue doctor appointment this afternoon, and in the meantime am making a valiant attempt at organizing my yarn stash. Emphasis on the word attempt. Any hints or encouraging thoughts from fellow fiber freaks out there??

Of course, there's a planned venture out into the sub-zero weather to feed the sheep and give a bottle to a pair of twins whose elderly mother isn't making enough milk to satisfy them in this frigid cold.

And maybe I'll actually get a chance to knit today! Fingers crossed.

How much damage can one ram do during a 24-hour foray into the ewes' field in Fall?

Well, I've seen four sets of lambs born during the coldest days we've experienced all winter. Luckily, the other fifty ewes, contentedly chewing their cud as they lie thawing the frozen ground under their swollen bellies, look like they'll hold off until April to get on with motherhood. They have a warm, cleanly bedded barn available. Still, they like the fresh air. A coating of snow makes them look particularly picturesque as their breath fogs the air around my knees. Yesterday and today, it was a challenge to fill the water trough without the wind whipping the spray all over my legs. You do NOT want wet jeans in -8 degree f. weather, believe me.

Knowing the bitter weather was coming, I knitted myself a really warm hat from homespun wool and alpaca a couple days ago. Tonight I can't find it. Time will tell whether it fell off in the barn, was snatched out of a pocket by a four-legged thief (canine or ovine), or I put it somewhere that now escapes my memory. I really do question my memory more each year!

I've finished a pair of socks for "Baby Cha Cha," due February 19 to my brother Dave and his wife Andrea. Phoenix, their 2 1/2 year old son, came up with the sobriquet "Cha Cha" and it's stuck, at least in Aunt Nancy's brain. Next: fingerless guantlets, more socks, and a sweater (remaking to a larger size) for my nephew Phoenix, from yarn I spun from the lamb fleece of "Phoebe"...a Lincoln ewe born the same day Phoenix "rose" into this world.

The dye pot is calling, fleece is drying all over household surfaces, and at the shop (The Farm Shop) there are lots of items to be priced and displayed. There are NOT enough hours, days, or weeks in our lives.

Well, this is my first blogging attempt. It can only get better?