Away and AWAY

Recently, I left town AGAIN.  Seems like I have been "away" much more frequently this fall, (and now winter), than all the rest of the year.  I am very thankful we can go away (even at short notice), due to the fact that we have a wonderful farm sitter.  Thank you Cathy!

It is important to get away, from time to time, in order to see things from a different perspective.  Driving through the countryside in the winter, I see scenes I want to weave.  I see the colors I need and I wonder what will bring me these colors.  I know that one that will be very important is Hickory red.

Last summer the kids at one session of fiber camp, wanted to dye some wool with some natural dyes.  R wanted to know what color hickory nuts would produce so I suggested he throw some in a small stainless bowl.  We didn't have enough to dye with so the bowl just sat on the counter in the fiber shed for awhile.  The color that resulted was a beautiful red brown, the color of much of the under story in the winter woods.

Now that the autumn nuts and berries are gone I may experiment with some barks and lichens.  This autumn there were very few acorns, walnuts, and hickory nuts.  The information out, is that it has to do with the wet spring and summer.  Don't know, but it brought the bears down from the hills looking for food.  I hope that they got enough to eat before  their winter hibernation.

Another topic that I pondered while gone, was winter fertilizing.  I now have a good plan and will just wait for the right weather to finish the fencing so I can start rotation of the flock and fertilizing behind them.  I wonder how many others have similar thoughts this Christmas season.

We also got to test a new product from the AWAY wearable art collection; a Beachglass glove.  I gave one to Lyndy and to Jen ( the two most devoted beachglass collectors I know).  So here they are on Christmas Day on a beach on Lake Erie.

They gave me a preliminary report and some tips for further development of the gloves.  Thanks Lyndy and Jen.

It was cold in Ohio and the only gloves I had brought along were some farm gloves which were starting to wear thin.  I also realized I need to knit myself a new winter hat, just like the shoemaker story I guess.  Now I am back so I guess I have some more spinning and knitting to do.  And fencing and collecting of dye stuff and ........

We had a wonderful Christmas and I hope all out there reading this, did too.

A Scramble of Weather

It was a cold and windy morning........ and I woke up and looked out the window to see sheep up by the house.

I quickly got up, threw on some clothes, and went out to make sure everyone was accounted for.  I counted 9 sheep and a llama and decided to check on the chickens too since it was cold and very windy.  The chickens wouldn't leave the barn so I brought a little grain to them.  When I opened the closet to get some sheep minerals, I saw a rabbit huddled in the corner.

Generally sheep don't like wind.  They don't mind cold or snow (if it is not too deep) but wind will usually head them to the barn.  I guess the gate blown open was just too enticing.  They did graze in the lea of the house. (is that how you say it?)

I love to see the change of seasons and the differences the different weather types bring.   Even in a dusting of snow, the chickens don't like to run around out side.  If they do go out or back to the barn you get to see how far a chicken really can fly.

I like the scramble of weather we have been having, too.  Today, is delightful, up to 42 degrees already and sunny.   It makes it easier, dealing with the cold, knowing we can get a hum dinger of a day, anytime.

Decking the Barn with Greens and Garland

I finally got the wreath up on the barn, an important part of decorating for Christmas.

First, I had to make the wreath at Boxerwood last Saturday.
Jay helped me with the base which is made from a large bittersweet or similar type vine.  Then, I tucked in  some beautiful greens and thought to myself, "That wasn't so hard".  But then out of nowhere, came a young girl (this happens a lot at Boxerwood).  She asked me what I was doing and I told her I was making a wreath for the animals' barn.  I explained, there were sheep, a llama, and chickens that would enjoy the wreath.  She just looked at me and said that I should make it for the birds too.  O.K. I thought and headed inside to where all the great garland stuff was.  There were cranberries and popcorn and dried pineapple and raisins (brown and golden) and mangos and other good stuff.  Some people were making symmetric garlands and I knew I didn't have the patience for that, so I basically did what I usually do; closed my eyes and grabbed whatever.  Even with that approach, it was taking too long, so I put gaps.  Finally, an hour later, it was done and it looked even more beautiful.

After a few days of rain, we got some nice weather and I decided it was time to put it up.  I got the 10' step ladder and headed for the barn.  The animals fled the scene but then returned because they were curious.  I grabbed the, much heavier than I remembered, wreath and hiked up the ladder, but when I got as far up as I wanted to go, I was 2 inches too short, or my fingers were.  I thought about what I would break if I fell off the ladder and decided I didn't want to break anything.

I remembered I had left space in the hay loft of the barn so that I could open the door and hang a wreath that way but the wreath was too heavy and big so that didn't work either.  I finally decided to ask for help.  I walked back to the garage with the story and John's immediate reply was, "Good, you still need me."  He dropped what he was doing and we headed back to the barn.  What a GOOD guy.  John is more than 2 inches taller and he has longer fingers, so the job was easy for him.

Now, when you fumble around as much as I did and when in the end, someone else is doing the hanging of the wreath, you don't worry about what falls off and which way is up, you just say Thank You.  Cher was raising her nose as if she was wondering what it was she was smelling but no one else seemed to notice when all was done.  I think it looks cheery.  "Deck the Barn with Greens and Garland, FA LA LA LA LA, LA LA, LA, LA."

Extending the Grazing Season

I finally figured out how to do a video on YouTube, watch it full screen.

The sheep have a GOOD memory.  I opened the gate and out they ran up toward the house.  Cher hesitated, and looked around as if to say, "Are we suppose to go out this way."  This was a first for her, if you don't count the time last week she snuck out when I was bringing the little tractor into the barnyard.  That time it was just her and she didn't go very far.  It was a beautiful day and everyone was good.  Of course I went through the "don't get vines all over you,  don't eat the bark on the fruit trees, don't eat too fast, don't .........  the whole way up to the barn.

When I was working in the fiber shed they were right outside the windows.

When it was time to go back the sheep were ready but Cher had moved to the front yard and didn't want to leave.  So the sheep and I went to get her and I circled around behind Cher and pointed for her to go back.  She agreed and ran back with the sheep following her.  Too bad I didn't have the camera going then.  

A fine day with a new routine, at least for Cher. 

Buttery Tips

The fleeces we washed the other day came out beautiful.  One was Norma Jean's and the other Gretta's.  They are both Cotswold/CVM crosses.  I was curious about other people having this crossbreed of sheep living at their farm so I googled to see what I could find.

They are both fairly rare breeds so one would think to find a cross of these breeds would be unusual.  Except, if a farm was raising rare breeds, these two would likely be present.  And then if there was a cold autumn with not much to do, well ................

I found a site right away and they were selling fleece.  Here is the description, "natural creamy white with buttery tips".

It always amuses to see the words people use to describe things.  Especially if they are for sale.  My recent favorites, mountain blueberry and cherry orchard yogurt that I bought John the other day.  I wonder if the blueberries were really from the mountains.  I guess you can't just say blueberry or it wouldn't be as appealing.  Buttery certainly sounds good, but really, buttery tipped fleece?

Here is a picture of Norma Jean. Can you see her buttery tips?

And where do the buttery tips come from?  Not sure.  Just damaged ends I guess, could be from getting dirty or sun bleached.  That doesn't sound as inviting though if you are trying to sell the fleece.  

All this talk about words-- Norma Jean could care less, she doesn't waste time thinking about such trivial stuff.  You can see what she thinks is important, the hay not the sun hitting her and giving her her buttery tips. 

DECEMBER'S RUCKUS DAY

A fun and productive day.  We started the fire and filled the pot with water.  While the water was heating, we picked out some bits of vegetation in the wool.

 Then, into bags and into the hot water.

Put the lid on to keep the heat in and make sure the fire is just right.

After 20- 30 minutes, we took the fleeces out and put them into the wheelbarrow with clean hot water to rinse.

The wool dried over night on some towels on the drying rack.

More wonderful fleece to process, Yay and THANKS TO ALL

Some of the pictures were curtesy of  Alessandra.

Thanksgiving 2013

 WE are thankful for family and friends, grass grain & hay, a fine feast of people food, and cold nights with sparkles in the grass and sparkles in the sky, at the end of a very fine day.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT

"What Makes You Different ?"

"What makes you different than other people doing the same thing as you?"  That was the question repeatedly asked at the conference I went to in early November.

I have been thinking about this question a lot lately.  I think I relate to the question because of my history with homeopathic medicine.  Homeopaths asks, "what makes your bout with the flu different than another person's?" What is unique about your flu?  Did it come on suddenly?  Is it worse at a particular time?  What makes it better (being outside, wrapped up, moving slowly, not moving at all etc.)?

There are lots of other fiber farmers. Some that especially like natural colored sheep.  Many that process their own wool (or at least part of the process). Others also instruct in the fiber arts.  So what makes me, me, in regard to the whole fiber arts thing?  The one word answer-- chaos!  I farm chaotically, when I wash wool - chaos,  dyeing?= never the same, spinning=? _______.  Every day is different, every day a surprise.

Sometimes, when I need to be, I can be very organized BUT it takes a lot of intense focus.  Some chaos is O.K. though.   I never know what the outcome of anything will be, but who doesn't like a surprise?

No one can spin yarn that looks like mine.  It looks alive; it looks like someone tamed it just enough to  stay in a yarn and not jump back on the sheep.

If enthusiasm was more valued, I would be golden.  Unfortunately, predictability and production seem to be what our society looks for.

Maybe that is why I relate to kids, and they seem to like me.  Kids generally think surprises are fun.

I like things that can be many things.  I like clothes that can be worn in different ways for different occasions or different moods.  I want to produce wearable art that will live up to this.  I want to make art that is interactive.

FARRR AWAY is the fiber arts component of Cabin SpringFarm. http://www.cabinspringfarm.com/farrr-away.html
and product will be under the AWAY label, because at Cabin Spring Farm there is plenty of Adventurous Wool and Alluring Yarn.

Maybe the 2 word answer to the question posed at the conference is Chaos and Surprise (or is that 3 words?).

Not Yet

Not yet, but it feels like it may be coming soon.

Today was a cold November day.  There was some good sun, so I thought it would be nice in the fiber studio but it was still cold especially on my hands, so when a fiber friend came over we decided to spin by the wood stove in the house.

I hadn't spun in a few weeks and when I sat down to spin, I couldn't keep the wheel going.  I finally figured out it was the chair I was sitting in.  Strange.  Because of the way the seat sunk a little, it changed how my leg muscles worked.  At least it didn't take me too long to figure out what was going on.

Meanwhile, the sheep and Cher enjoyed grazing by the cabin again.  Now that the upper pasture has little grazing left, and cabin dwellers are gone until spring, the animals have been spending more time in the lower pasture and around the cabin.

We decided not to have guest in the cabin over the winter because winters around here are just too unpredictable and access to the cabin can be difficult in any kind of wet and cold.  It will be nice to have a few very quiet months.

John has some furniture and cabinet building lined up in his shop and I have plenty of fleece to spin, whether in the fiber studio or by the wood stove, so I guess we are ready for whatever comes, though I would like to drive some fence posts before the ground gets too cold.

GIFTS

 When I was in Oregon, I was thinking about how I should find a good shell to make a diz out of.  (I can't believe spell check doesn't recognize diz as a word).  Anyway, as I was thinking about finding a good shell, I approached the great and beautiful Pacific Ocean and the first thing I saw on the sand was the perfect stone on the table to the left.

As usual, I was presented with what I was looking for plus a whole lot more.

I was looking for something strong to drill a hole in and I received a smooth, wonderful to hold, stone with not one but several smooth holes already in it and they were different sizes.  It is amazing,  I love using it.  

Just before I left for Oregon, my friend who gave me the marigolds, brought me some more.  Another nice gift.  Lyndy came over and gave me a gift of time.  She and I plucked the petals from the marigold flowers leaving the seeds and seed casing.  This time the wool came out a more expected color, a nice orange.

And here is some of Amelia's fleece.  First, its lustrous white, second, the bright yellow of the previous batch, and below the other two, the new orange.

Fall has many gifts for us and especially some wonderful colors to feast our eyes on.













It is interesting to see the colors next to the natural color of the fleece.

I love Charlotte's fleece, but I am not thrilled with the overall gray it comes out when it is combed.  It is nice dyed but I don't want to dye it all when it is so wonderful in its natural state.

I will have to find another way to prepare it.  

I love all the gifts from nature.

So Much for Kindness

The dead mouse in the trap in the cabin this morning probably doesn't think I am so kind.  But he/she led such a wonderful life here at Cabin Spring Farm until last night.

A wonderful 1800's Cabin to live in barely disturbed, dark drawers with plenty of room to bring and eat his nuts on top of some nice dishtowels.  Even fresh soap to nibble on.  And a late night snack of peanut butter just outside it's favorite closet.  OOPs.

I'm sorry but I tried relocating some of them.  There were at least 6 that I shook out of the big vermiculite bag in the garden shed that ran off into the woods.  I paid good money for that bag and I wasn't going to toss it.  They eat the soap everywhere.  I think we have been very kind.

One of the main problems is that Blake (the resident black snake) and his smaller friends have gone to sleep for the winter and mice don't hibernate, they just invade our home, John's cars, the cabin and the barn closet.

Enough is enough my kindness wore thin.  But, I didn't put out poison.  No, I put out a late night treat of peanut butter.  Sure, it was on a trap, but it wasn't disguised.  He/she could have resisted.  I have been resisting treats.  There is a whole bowl of Halloween candy on the counter and I haven't had a single piece.

I was listening to Philosophy Talk a few days ago and the topic was "Morality and the Self".  They were saying that sometimes if people consider themselves moral then they will allow themselves to be amoral (like cheating on their taxes) and think that is O.K., like they saved up their brownie points and cashed them in.

Is that what I have done?  Saved up my kindnesses and then bam?

The Kindness of Others and Ourselves

Karen blogged about the "kindness of others" the other day and she is probably one of the kindest people I know.  I think it is important to celebrate the kindness of others but I also think it is important to recognize that we ourselves are kind.

For instance, today, I took 3 more buckets of sheep manure to one friend and visited another.  This evening I gave the sheep some hay for a treat and took a 6 year old friend to the community table for dinner. I even, finally, called a sister in law and good friend I have been thinking about calling for a week now (unfortunately she wasn't home).

The friend I gave the manure to gives me plants and seeds, the friend I visited with, lent me her pack when I went to Oregon, the sheep give me lots of fleece, and my 6 year old friend tells me many important facts and keeps me up to date with the latest robot toys.  My sister in law mailed me back a library book I left at her house and sends me notes and all kinds of things.

I have had a life full of kindness.  I believe that kindness breeds kindness and sometime unkindness breeds kindness.  This make the world full of kindness.

 Kindness is one of those magical things that happens everyday, if you are noticing, and that is something to look forward to each day.

What kindness will tomorrow bring, I wonder.

Vacation Over

I am home from Oregon.

It was great to see my brother, check in on the Pacific Ocean, and just take a break from the day to day.

  My brother looked great. He really likes living in Oregon and loves retirement.  We had alot of fun and he helped me test the strength and flexibility of my recovering ankle.

The first day I was there, we climbed a mountain that had some very steep stretches and lots of rocks to maneuver at the top.  I must say, I was very pleased with how well I did.  A couple of days later, I was plowing through loose sand dunes and jogging on compact sand.  It was foggy and drizzly when we arrived at the ocean and you could hardly see where the gray of the ocean stopped and the gray of the sky began.  We spent Halloween night in a small town on the coast and saw a few kids in costume.  Our waitress that night was dressed as a zombie princess and she looked SO spooky I could hardly take my eyes off her.

The next morning we knew we were in for a "postcard day".  We drove a little further up the coast stopping at a few more beaches and had breakfast in a small fishing village where sea lions were barking.

Every day we saw sheep, and as my brother says, "nobody in Oregon has 9 sheep".  They all have hundreds grazing on many acres of short grass.  I worried about them;  I couldn't tell if they rotated pastures and there was no barn or trees for them to rest in out of the sun.  Maybe there are shade structures in the summer.

Today, my first day back, I decided I better take better care of the sheep at Cabin Spring Farm.  I let them go down into the pasture below the driveway for better grazing while I took down the electric wire fencing.  We are going to put up woven wire to divide the upper pasture into three rotational pastures.  It was just too difficult to keep the electric wire in good working order so the sheep would not tear it down to get where they wanted to go.  They just had no respect.

While I was up in the pasture, I noticed it was much easier to get about and I felt so much stronger than before I left.  I also noticed that the sheep and Cher have a much nicer view than their Oregon counterparts.

Vacation over and back at it;  I am ready to tackle new projects with new strength.

1st Chair

I took the sheep and Cher some pumpkin seeds this morning.  Cher wasn't interested, Sarah of course loved them, and few others were interested but, Zorra and Charlotte were too busy head butting, to establish flock hierarchy, to come for pumpkin seeds.

For some reason, this made me think about when I played flute in Junior High school.  Our band teacher encouraged us to challenge the chair above us to determine who was really the best flutist, and should sit in first chair.  This happened with all the instruments and it seemed like challenges happened at least quarterly.  There must have been some other incentive, to make this challenge, because it was a "way to stressful" ordeal just to sit in a different chair in band.  It probably affected our grade.  Anyway, I did make the challenge but never succeeded to knock anyone out of their chair.

I remember, I was always so happy when challenges were over.  Listening to the sound of heads cracking together, I am sure Zorra and Charlotte will be glad when they settle who gets to hold the higher status  in the flock.

I wonder what benefits go with the new rank.  I don't know who occupies  first chair currently.  I know Mira pushes others out of the way at snack time, but they all do.  I don't think Mira cares to be a leader. I think Sarah is probably the leader but I must observe more closely.  I know Hildegard used to be the matriarch of the flock when she was with us, but since her death a few years ago, it just isn't clear who took her place.

In a day or two, the aggression will be over and we can all forget about the anxiety of going for 1st chair and enjoy this wonderful autumn season.

Surrounded By Beautiful Fiber

I love surrounding myself with beautiful fiber.  It just makes me feel happy.  Below is how some of it comes to be.  My friend Cathy had a marigold explosion in her garden and offered me this bag of 3 or 4 different varieties.

So while enjoying the wonderful aroma, I cut the heads off deciding to leave the seeds intact.

Then I soaked the blossoms for 2 days.

After simmering for 45minutes or so I was wondering what the color would come out.  I scooped out the exhausted  flowers 

and put some fleece into the dye bath and it looked like this.  

The fleece had to simmer for about 45 minutes as well.  The fleece had been mordanted with alum and cream of tartar. 

I was looking for an orange but worried this might not be bright enough.  Then when I took it out to rinse and dry, the fleece ended up looking yellow green.  Not orange, but a brilliant color.

 After combing the locks, the color seemed to change again to a more true yellow and still very lustrous.

The fleece above is Cottswold and the fleece below is a Cottswold/CVM cross.

Can't wait to spin this lovely fleece.  Thank you Cathy!

Watching Things Grow

One day the cherry tomato plant below the entry deck decided to put some blossoms and then tomatoes through this crack between deck boards. We have been watching them grow.

It has taken awhile but it looks like they may make it to the table.  That is unless, a bear, a possum, a deer, or a "who knows what" comes up to eat them.  Unlikely though; not because they wouldn't come up on the deck, but because most animals don't seem to like tomatoes (except insects).

It is important to watch things grow.  Living on a farm with 13 acres gives me an excellent opportunity to watch things grow, and except for a few invasive plants and some plants that are growing where I don't want them to, ( known to some as weeds,) I enjoy watching growth.

The sheep, that were born on the farm a few years ago, have grown so much and are nearly as big as their mommas.

Growing, GIVES LIFE PURPOSE.

I was reading an NPR interview transcript the other day about a guy who was at Alcatraz prison, when he was 25, I think it was.  He is now 80 and he got permission to go back there a short time ago and spend a night.  He walked around followed by the woman interviewing him, and when they were out on the recreation yard he told her a story.

When he was imprisoned there, he planted a tree, and it started to grow.  It was in amongst some weeds and he brought out water, under cover, to water his tree friend.  One day, a guard noticed him watering the weeds and asked him what he was doing.  The guard  told him to go along, and the next day the tree and the weeds were gone.  The prisoner was devastated.  Planting and watering the tree had given his life purpose.

When asked why he wanted to go back and spend a night in his old cell, the man said he wanted to try to get in touch with his younger self, and figure some things out.  He had grown to be an old man but was still unsettled in some way.

Watching things grow, hopefully, brings intention and peace and many times, joy.

I have been watching my dream here grow into reality.  One year and three year plans have come to fruition and now my business advisor wants to know, "what's next?".

I have some ideas -- stay tuned.

Cleaning Wool with Yuca Root

I always find it interesting to find old ways of doing things that are better in some ways than the new way to do the same thing.  Take washing wool for example.

People used to wash wool and clothes and other things with plants that create soap.  (wish I could remember the term for these  plants).  Anyway, I have a link on my website that shows the process for wool.  cabinspringfarm.com  I have been playing around with it a bit but today I actually documented my attempt.  Check it out.  

pounding a yuca root to break it down

swishing it to make suds

before on left after on right

a close up of the after

How can water so dirty get something SO clean?

the bark of the root that peels off after pounding

I loved the way the bark peeled off.  I love the whole process but I need more practice to figure out how much I need to pound the root and how much root I need.

What I really like about it is that you don't heat the water and you can supposedly use the yuca several times if you air dry it and keep it in the shade.

Still need to work with the process but so far I like the results.

Losses

When I go down to the barn or pasture and count 9 sheep, 3 chickens, and a llama, I give a sigh and think all is good, today.

A couple of days ago, I did just that and then saw a lot of chicken feathers on the floor of the barn.  I had seen all of the chickens so I knew that if there was a predator it left empty handed.  Black has been roosting on the 1/2 wall of the barn lately instead of up on one of the rafters.  I told her that, maybe that wasn't a good idea but she still sleeps there I think.  That is where I saw all of the feathers so perhaps she was awakened in the night but made it to a safe place.  You never know how many times the chickens win, you only know when they lose.

We have had a fair number of losses on the farm, it is part of life here as well as everywhere.  This has been a pretty good year, knock on the barn.

I often wonder what Cher would do if there was a threat to the sheep.  She likes to go off on her own but I think she knows what's going on.  When we were gone last week, our farm sitter saw a bear up by the house.  We only see a bear every few years, and I don't think they would be a threat to the sheep or even the chickens but I guess you never know.  Don't know if Cher saw the bear or what she thought.

We haven't heard coyotes much at all this year, so this is the year of rabbits.

Nature goes in cycles and there are always expected and unexpected losses.  The human world is no different.

Life is lovely, but there are always losses.

Fragmented Memories

I have been on a week long vacation to an area where I lived for 33 years.  So many things have changed, some things have stayed the same, some things are the same as they were decades before we arrived.

As we drove the back roads, fragments of memory would arise as we went past this turn in the road, that road sign, the house tucked back in, almost out of sight.  What was the occasion, or what meeting for which cause.  Emotions would surface; some stressful, what was the trigger?, what was the feeling?

It seemed the older memories were more complete than the more recent and this made me feel old.  We often hear that "old" people remember what happened eons ago but not what happened yesterday.  Is it all just part of the brain holding on to happy memories and discarding the rest?

My mother said people should keep moving to different places so memories of, "the way things used to be", wouldn't prematurely age them.  It worked for her; she lived to 88+ and never got old.  If you moved often enough you wouldn't have to go nuts trying to remember what restaurant or shop was here before this one (only 3 years ago).

I thought as I roamed my old haunts, I would see people I knew and familiar faces.  It only happened once.  Maybe I have forgotten faces as well.

I read once, that sheep could remember up to a dozen faces for many years (even if they moved).  I wonder if other memories are fragmented for them?

Raking the Barn

Every day I rake the barn.  It is very enjoyable for me.  It is funny that it is the last job many people would want to do and for some reason I hate it when I have to ask someone to do it for me.

  My young friend from across the pasture seems to like to do it but I am not sure what part he likes.  John cleaned the barn for almost 6 weeks after I broke my ankle, and didn't seem to mind, but I don't think he misses not doing it anymore.

For me, raking the barn, is very relaxing and rewarding, like spinning wool but different.  When I rake, I feel I am raking a zen garden and it is especially rewarding where the animals have spilled minerals, and the silver lines stand out in the sunlight.  I wonder if any of the animals feel like they are resting in a zen garden afterwards?

I have always liked sweeping too, especially at an entrance of a building.  When I see a shop keeper sweeping the stoop before opening his/her shop, it is very welcoming.  I loved sweeping the small ramp to the Fiber Shed every morning as the campers were arriving.

Someone, the other day, was talking about sweeping dirt floors, and how awful they thought that would be.  Not for me, I would enjoy it but I would want to wet my broom first I think, if it was really dusty.

Not sure what it is that feels so good about raking or sweeping.  I hate vacuuming!, so it isn't  a cleaning thing.  Mopping is O.K. but not as relaxing as raking or sweeping.  Is it the sound?  The stroke?  I can hear and feel both, just thinking about it.  Some kind of mental or spiritual connection, I'm sure.

  So maybe I don't liking asking others to do it because I don't feel they have that same spiritual connection and without it, raking the barn could be just a stinky chore.

A Closer Look

Today, I was standing in front of the Fiber Shed and a hummingbird came up to me and hovered in front of me for 5 or 6 seconds, at close range trying to decide if the flowers on my shirt were real.  This is what he/she saw and I guess it does look inviting.

Later, I went up to the barn, with my camera,(surprise, surprise) and several of the animals came up to get a closer look at the camera.  

First Zorra, but she is curious about everything.

 

Then came Amelia at a clip.

Norma Jean wanted a really close look. 

Even Black was interested.

 Cher and Araucana just wanted to pose.

I wish I had caught the hummingbird on camera but that would be asking for too much.