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?