Our small hand spinners flock just got a little smaller this morning. For the last three years, our black wether George, has bloated and been lethargic with the small amounts of grass that manage to survive long enough to be eaten. The other boys don't seem to be affected. Ian thought George was close to being back on his feet last night, but a cold front blew through yesterday, dropping temps this morning into the low 20s. I just don't think George had the stamina to weather the weather. When Ian checked on him this morning, he had just died. I had to help Ian load George into the truck. He took him up into the hills to a spot that he likes and gave him back to the earth. I know it means the coyotes will eat him, but somehow, it seems right.
I grew up on a farm and thought I was good with the whole thing. I mean, we knew it might happen. But within an hour I was physically sick. I have lots of sick leave and I decided that using a day of it today was prudent, since we're headed to San Francisco to see our kids in two days. I'm also hoping to be able to hook up with Sylvia. We've swapped cell phones numbers and just need to see what transpires.
I was feeling restless and blah so decided that the best medicine would be to go up and clean my studio. I blended some fiber to spin for bags, threw more stuff out, put stuff away and shelved magazines and books. Charlie was happy to keep me company and I was happy to have his company.
Charlie often will stay with me in the studio. Not so much Buster. He must have sensed my feelings because here is, not actually in with me, but still with me. I decided to wind a solid color warp and try to weave a couple of tea towels in a twill pattern. I've never done it and it's about time. There's nothing quite so zen as winding a warp. It was the prefect activity.
Holed up but not complaining
15 hours ago