We're Still Here...Maybe

We have been having server problems lately. When the service people arrived tonight at *:30 to look into the problems, we found out we were just one of a group of about 100 in our area whose computers lost connection capabilities. They worked for an hour. As soon as I heard "We're up!" from my HHWB, I thought it best to let everyone know that we are still here - sometimes. :)

But the best news is that our daughter and our 6 month old granddaughter will arrive here at the end of this month for a 3-week visit! WooHoo! The only sad thing is that our wonderful son-in-law will be holding down the fort at home with Sam, the Cat. It would've been nice if he could come as well.
...but I won't complain. :)

The Wool Festival - 2009 Edition

After weeks of "waffling" about whether or not I was going to attend the local wool festival, I decided to go ahead and try it again. Last year, both my friend, Melanie, and I went and both did really well. But this year, I only had fleeces to sell.

Mel and her husband, Mark, putting together her dyed yarn displays.

One rack up and one to go...

Both yarn racks up. Aren't her yarns beautiful?

A shot across the table with some of my yarns in the foreground in the basket.

A basket of Mel's beautiful, bright, space-dyed rovings.

While we were located in the same spot as last year, next time we/I go we'll move to the other side of the building where more booths are set up. I only got the chance to really walk about once and noticed that, while we were very protected from the winds where we were located, most of the activities were elsewhere. The were quite a few alpaca people with booths. I think ours was the only "sheep only" booth in the whole place. But, we had more traffic on Saturday when the festival had the sheep herding demonstrations across from us. Sunday the sheepdogs weren't there for some reason.
I can't complain about sales. My fleeces sold out within the fist two hours of the show on Saturday. The bobbin lace makers having a display on Saturday could not believe that someone in Arizona actually had real, honest-to-goodness Shetland fleece. One of them called her sister in Phoenix as she was standing at the booth wondering how many they wanted to split together. Plus I had repeat customers seeking out more Shetland for their "wooly-habits".
Now I have a quandary. I had planned on sending this year's fleeces out to be processed into combed top and roving to have available at next year's wool festival. But since they all sold so quickly I will only have fleece available next year if I go. With customers looking for Shetland fleece now coming to the farm to get it right off the sheep at shearing, I won't have surplus to sell at the festival. Hmm. To be honest, I like the farm sales much better. I think the customers do as well. They actually get to see their fleece come off the sheep of their choosing.
While I like going to festivals and shows and getting our name "out there", I also have to admit I don't have the energy I once had to keep up the pace of the summer shows. Now I have come to a time to reflect and find the balance between promoting the farm, getting the jobs done at the farm, and spending my time doing pursuits I enjoy.

Maybe it's time to have a bit of a "wool festival" here at Sheep Thrills. I know Hizzoner, the Hired-Hand-With-Benefits, wouldn't mind burning a few hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill. And with this summer's more mild temperatures the sheep have been growing in fleece both thick and long already.
(Or are my fluffy sheep a portent of things to come?)

Wool Gathering, er, Selling

Colin says:

The Shepherdess said she was going to sell our wool tomorrow! She kept singing, "Yes, Sir, yes, Sir...three bags full..." around the barn this afternoon as she took big black bags with our beautiful fleece in them from the shed to the barn she lives in. She said she was leaving me in charge! Woo-Hoo!

We just can't figure out what this big, pink ball is for. As she gave it to us she said it would keep us busy while she was gone. Geez...we have plenty to do around this place. Who needs a big, pink ball?

Skittles chimes in:
Hey! She didn't give me anything but a few cookies tonight! Where's my ball? Don't I get a ball?

Shaun adds:
Don't look now, Guys. I think Ole and Sven just killed the ball before the Shepherdess even left! I think I hear my mother calling me. See ya...

That D----d Sign Has Got To Go -or- We're Full Up!

This past week has been a week full of worrisome happenings: a kitten we adopted out has gone walk-about causing major concerns for her new owners; I have had tremendous headaches complete with brain scan to see if there was something amiss there (and it did confirm I do, indeed, have an actual brain); and a dear friend is very, very ill in the hospital.
Today, I saw a cat that has been hanging around the farm duck into Hizzoner's tractor shed. Carefully, I opened the door. I got a very quick glance at the face of the cat, then spied two smaller versions of said cat. Yup. Lightening does indeed seem to strike twice. A mama-cat moved her kittens in.
I only saw the two kittens and the mom, but we just don't have room for any more cats. And the shelters are turning away animals here due to over-filled capacity. To top it off, we are people who just can't ignore them. I did put out some food and drink for the mama. This damned conundrum! I will make sure these guys have food and drink available except at night when the kitty-killers (aka coyotes, skunks, racoons...loose dogs) come around.

Yogi Berra said it right...

"It's Deja Vu all over again!"

My Soul is Dancing

It is raining in Arizona. Not the torrents coming from vicious monsoon storms, but a soft, gentle, constant rain. One that seeps into the needing earth giving both the land, and my soul, some much needed moisture. I should be out dancing in it instead of inside at my desk.
These gentle rains seem to revitalize me. Sometimes the sun and dryness here can be very harsh. Maybe it's my Celtic/Viking genetics. You know, the genes that keep telling me I belong in a more northern climate with ferns and forests instead of the high mountain desert area I live in. I like it here, but some days the harsh environs gets to me.
I know a shepherd in Oregon who used to live in Sedona, just off the rim from us. She had been raised in Arizona but moved to Oregon when she "grew tired of looking at the bones of the Earth". I had never thought about it until I heard her say that. "The bones of the Earth."
I do like it here. Maybe it's just this type of rain brings back memories of growing up in the Midwest where rain occurs much more often. Before living here my HHWB (Hired-Hand-With-Benefits) and I spent seven years in the Flint Hills of Kansas. Rain was a weekly occurrence. Plant seeds in the garden and jump back or you'd be flattened by the plants shooting skyward. Well, OK...maybe not quite that fast, but fast enough to see the growth from day to day. Here I beg and plead plants protected in Walls-of-Water to please grow and give us a few tomatoes for our table. Between the dryness, the 50 degree day/night temperature shifts in summer, and the rats-with-antlers (aka elk) it's a wonder that people can actually make a garden work. (Please don't tell my fellow Master Gardeners this or I'll never hear the end of it. I'm supposed to be "upbeat" and "enthusiastic" about gardening here. heeheehee)

A shot, from the house, of the stream and a bit of the pasture. The grass is turning a luscious green and getting deep. This means wonderful grazing for my sheep!

Above, a rarity to be treasured - a puddle down by the gate into the pasture.

A shot of the pine near the front door, its needles soaking in the cherished moisture.

Don't get me wrong. There are some real advantages in living here, as there is in any place you are. We may get snow that is three feet deep in one storm, but in about two days the roads are high and dry after the sun comes out. Being 7,000 ft. closer to the sun will do that for you. The breezes are fresh with the scent of pine. And that harsh sun I mentioned earlier will brighten every corner of your life...as well as every corner of the house and barn, summer or winter.
But as with anything in life, moderation is a key factor. Too much of our sun is harsh on the eyes and skin. It bleaches out the fleece of uncoated sheep. Plants labeled "full sun" will wither and die unless part of the day isn't spent in shade. Like Icarus, we dare not get too close.
Days like we've been having, with the soft rains, also make me think of New Zealand, with the lush gardens and neighborhoods where missed family live. I look at my ten year old apple tree, barely as tall as me, and think of Val's apple trees - tall, lush, laden with fruit. Of Ross and Kelly's yard with Sam the Cat and I checking out the plants and trees.

So, for today, I shall dance in the rain as I plant my sweet pea seeds and feed the sheep. I know I won't be alone in my appreciation of the weather...already the sheep and chickens have started dancing without me. The sheep are just dancing for the joy of it. The chickens are dancing with the worms they have now found. Too bad their dance is at the worms' expense. :)
May you find something wondrous to dance about in your day today...