Wooly Weekend

Just got back from here -

the NY State Sheep and Wool Festival (aka Rhinebeck), where I had a fabulous time with my daughters.  Wonderful woolinesses!

And apologies for that terrible picture - though the next one is even worse:

RIP my poor old camera.  It had been stuttering along for a while and it looks like it's finally called it quits.
Argh.  Now searching for a replacement...

As if life wasn't complicated enough...

So, this happened the other day.

I tried gluing them, but (true to my usual experience with crazy glue) just ended up gluing my fingers together, and at one point had the frame of one piece glued to my thumb.  (I also ended up with glue in one eyebrow and I can't even begin to figure out how that happened.)
I finally gave up and asked my dad for help.  He held the parts together while I tried to squeeze some glue. 
"Just a drop," he kept saying - "Just a drop!" 
"Dad, I can't see it without my glasses..."

Unfortunately (but not unexpectedly), the repair was impossible, since the bridge piece is just too thin to hold together with glue.  I'm overdue for a new prescription, so I'll be off to the eye doctor, but the earliest appointment they had wasn't for a couple of weeks.

So, cheap Walmart readers to tide me over.  Far from perfect, but at least I can read a computer screen.  (I just have to remember to take them off when moving around - the vertigo gives me nausea.)
I'll probably take another stab at fixing my real glasses, now that I can actually see them again.  Some kind of splint across the bridge, to fasten the halves to...  Yeah, that could work...
Wish me luck!

Argh again

I had two (two, count 'em, two!!) posts all written in my head, plus dozens of pictures taken to illustrate all the looky-here's.  Unfortunately, all the pictures are stuck on my SD card because my card reader has died again.  And this time I didn't even shove anything in backwards or sideways.  So it's either the make of card reader (I got the same kind both times), the cards themselves (but I have two different ones that I alternate that have been working fine), or my computer.  Or me.  Because maybe I don't have to put the cards in all cattywampus to kill a card reader.  Maybe it's just a talent.
Anyone have a recommendation for a replacement reader?
*sigh*

I'm seriously ticked...

I got home from work just now and found several emails from friends asking if I had deleted my blog.

WTF???

I clicked on my bookmark to check.  Yep, blog no longer available.

WTF???

So I logged onto Blogger to try to access it from there, and was told that my blog had been deleted.  But wait - if your blog has mysteriously disappeared, there's help available.
The 'help' was a message that there had been unusual activity on my blog, and Google just needed my mobile number so they could send me a text that would 'verify' me.
Okay.  That sounds like extortion to me.  "Give us your phone number and we'll give you your blog back".
Now, both Google and Yahoo have been trying forever to get me to 'add my mobile number' to my account.  (Oh so many benefits would be mine if I did so.  Benefits that don't interest me in the slightest, but they just don't get that.)
But I don't want them to have my number.  The only ones who have my number are my employers and my family.  Even my friends don't have my number.  My number is MY number.

So, I had to weigh my options.  Give them the number or lose 4+ years of work.  You can see by the fact that I'm posting (and that you can see it) that I caved in.

But I am seriously seriously pissed.

I swear those sheep are out to get me

I love sheep.  I love sheep in general, and I particularly love the sheep we own.  But sheep have a capacity to make you crazy, like no other animal.
Remember this?  And  this?  And this? 
Well, they're at it again...
Madman had to be out of town this weekend, leaving about 7pm.  I was reading my email, anticipating a quiet evening of spinning while watching a movie.  Out the window, I could hear Goldie complaining about the poor quality of the hay I'd fed them for supper. 
Then I listened closer and realized that it wasn't her disgruntled blatt - it was her "OMG The World is Ending!!!" blatt.
Crap.
I bolted for the back door and looked out.
Goldie and Orion were both trotting around OUTSIDE the pen.  I don't know if she was hollering to me for help, or just chastising him, both for being out and for leading her astray, but she was making enough noise to rattle the windows.
I scrambled for boots and a jacket and dived out the door.
Onyx and Merlin were standing at the fence, all goggle-eyed.  Goldie and Orion continued to mill around in confusion - Orion kept trying to go down the hill, headed for the open road, but he couldn't get Goldie to follow him, so he'd turn back and run around her again.  (I think he still dreams of Indiana...)
I ran for the gate (which was still standing, unlike the last escape (see link above)) and tried to open it to herd them back inside.  Unfortunately, after the last escape, we'd tied it shut with baling twine and bungies - we get in and out by stepping over the wire - and I couldn't undo any of the knots in the dwindling light.  (Cuz, yeah, twilight is the best possible time to make a jailbreak when you're a sheep.)  I ran for my car, where I have a box-knife that I use at work, and ran back to the gate and started hacking at string.  By that time, I was gasping from anxiety (and running up and down hills), and my hands were shaking so hard that I'm lucky I didn't hack a finger off, too.  I was seriously grumbling at them - "Oh, sure.  Dad's not even gone for half an hour, and already you kids are acting up..."
When the last string was cut, I dumped some grain into the food dish to keep my good sheep non-escapees busy and inside the fence when I opened the gate, and scooped up another cupful for wayward-sheep-luring use. 
Orion took one look at Onyx and Merlin chowing down and bolted off around the fence. 
"Okay," I thought.  "One at a time.  Get Goldie now, then I'll worry about Orion."
I was shaking the cup of grain at Goldie, trying to get her attention, when Orion mysteriously appeared inside the  pen, headed for the food dish that Onyx and Merlin were blissfully sharing.
Apparently, against all odds, Mr Dumbass had remembered how he'd gotten out and had gotten back in the same way.
So, there I was, in the gathering darkness, with the most nervous of our sheep left to catch.  And there she was, in full-tilt panicking nervous breakdown mode.  Both of us desperately wanted for her to be back in the pen with the other sheep, but only one of us had a plan for how that could happen.
Luckily, the one of us was me...
I kept rattling the grain, trying to coax her closer to the gate, but she was so skittish that she kept shying away.  It didn't help matters that the grain rattling was attracting the attention of the sheep inside the pen, as well.  I had to keep scooping feed into their dish to keep them occupied, while cooing to Goldie that everything was going to be all right if she'd just come-freaking-closer and let me lure her through the gate.  She'd inch toward me, watching the grain, then suddenly take off and run along the fence or down the hill.  A couple of times I almost had her, but the very act of opening the gate a little wider scared the crap out of her.  (Goldie has never been a fan of change of any sort, and moving gates are badbadbad in her book.)  I had to stand in the opening, prepared to block any further escapes from the sheep behind me, while appearing harmless and comforting to my crazed ewe. 
I had just dumped more grain into the communal dish behind me when Goldie apparently couldn't stand it anymore - the sight of the others getting grain and her not - and she bolted through the narrow opening between me and the gate, knocking me down in the process.
Well, whatever works.
I did a quick-tie on the gate, then started walking the fence, trying to figure out how they'd gotten out in the first place.  The answer?  A corner post (wooden) had broken at ground level and collapsed, taking the fence down with it.  Goldie and Orion had just strolled out over the downed wire.
By this time it was almost full dark.  I straightened the post back up and tried to wedge another post into the ground to prop it with.
Orion, our little Mr Dumbass, came running over and head-butted the prop, knocking it out of my hands.
"Hey!  Stop that!" didn't have much effect.  Every attempt I made to plant the prop resulted in  another head-butt.  Apparently he saw the prop as a rival.  Or something.  I hollered each time he did it, calling him a wide variety of names, and finally had to resort to smacking him on the nose to discourage him.
By the time I got the post into a more-or-less stable upright position,  it was too dark to see what I was doing.  I can only hope it holds long enough to keep them in until I can finish repairs in the morning.

Can anyone remember why I wanted to raise sheep?

Oh, $hit. That's not a kitty...

Madman had put out a Hav-a-Heart trap, trying to catch what we thought was a fox or a weasel that had been lurking around our place, raiding the compost pile and bothering the chickens.
When he checked it this morning, he thought he'd caught one of the neighbor's cats.
Until he looked closer.
He's now got a very large, very pissed-off skunk in the trap.

Good thing he's got today off...

Damn it to hell.

We lost Kohl.
Our best guess is pneumonia brought on by heat stress.
Goldie is crying.
So are we.
I've run out of words.

Goodbye, little one.

ursulaknits3
Originally uploaded by mangofeet

We had to let our little cat go, today. Renal failure. She had gotten thinner and thinner, and since on her best day, after a big dinner, she only weighed six pounds, the weight loss was devastating.
Ursula was a knitter's cat.
She loved yarn with a passion. I had to keep my yarn locked up, or she would bring me every single skein. And since she always took the scenic route when she was bringing me yarn, I usually had to unwind it from table legs, chairs, desks, and beds, before I could wind it back up again.
I'll miss her little deliveries.
I'll miss her companionship when I knit.
I'll miss her forever.

Excuse me? This rain is defective. I'd like to return it.

I knew this was going to happen. It's why I've tried so hard not to get excited about Spring, despite the lovely warm weather we've been having lately. (It's only March...)

Friday was gorgeous. Saturday was warm, though cloudy. I even went out and worked in my flower and herb beds, pulling grass, clearing debris.
I was elated to see tulips coming up! Here's what they looked like Saturday:
and here they are today:

*sigh*

In chicken news, Number 6 deshelled herself late last night.

She's not dead; she's merely resting after a long hard day.

I wasn't kidding about my car exploding...

Luckily we were less than an hour from home when disaster struck. My youngest daughter was driving the first leg of the journey, my oldest daughter was following with her family in her rig (though we had her daughter with us in my car.)
There was a rattly noise that turned into an ominous rattly noise, followed by a "boom!", followed by a huge cloud of smoke with us in the epicenter. (My older girl said it was like we just disappeared in a puff of smoke - like one of those James Bond cars.) We eased off the road, shut off the engine (which, against all odds, was still running) and got out to survey the damage.
Smoke was pouring out of the exhaust and the engine. There was an oil slick extending from the point of explosion to point of rest.
I opened the hood to take a look. Now, I don't know a lot about car engines, but I'm pretty sure that things shouldn't be so... well... juicy. And shrapnel is probably not good, either.

The top center of the photo above shows blown-out bits and chunks that are pretty certainly wrong.


Those are my girls, staring at the debris. I didn't get a picture of the smoke, unfortunately. (Blogger grabs camera, but not as a first thought...)
So we transferred some of the cargo and my granddaughter to her parents' car, and sent them on ahead. (I was supposed to be the leader of the caravan for this 7.5 hour trip. *sigh*) Meanwhile, Madman had arrived to rescue us, with the wrecker not too far behind him. While my car was being winched onto the wrecker, we loaded the rest of our gear into Madman's car, dashed home, crammed stuff into my younger daughter's car, and started out again.
Final verdict - I blew some sort of rod (He told me exactly what, but my brain didn't retain it. Sort of like me trying to get him to register spinning wheel drive ratios...) right through the engine.
My car, she is toast.
*sigh*
Good thing I had a great visit at my dad's.