Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet…

   

 

       Finding one another later in life than most, DH and I often reminisce about our respective pasts — comparing and contrasting our early lives.  It’s amazing to learn how our paths almost crossed so many times.  We have discovered that we had spent some of our favorite summer vacations in the same remote mountain village, saw the same shows, and enjoyed many of the same past-times.

         However, there was one past-time we didn’t share.  It seems that DH was really into the 70’s scene, donning his Travolta danc’n duds to beat it to the local discos.  There is no way our pasts crossed then, or did they?  Today, this video of the two of us appeared.  Hummmm.   Could our paths have crossed after all?   

            Click here and see if you agree.

What a Difference a Week Makes

This time last week we were getting the biggest snow that we’ve had in years.  Today you’d never know it.  It seems as if spring has finally arrived.  The temperatures are now in the 70s and it didn’t take me long to decide I didn’t need the jacket I’d put on.  Flowers are beginning to bloom, leaves are appearing on the rose bush and the grass is starting to turn green.  It won’t be long until we have to start cutting it again.

 Mac and Scarlet had almost as much fun today as they had in the snow.  They have a little ritual each time they go out.  They both head out in opposite directions making a large circle just as they always did with the sheep.  After that, Mac continues to run, but Scarlet does this little game of faking him out.  She starts running, but soon as he is on his way, she stops, turns around and hides so she can jump out at him when he comes around the corner of the courtyard.  After the hundreds of times she has done this, he has to know what she is doing… but he still loves the game.

Let It Snow…Let It Snow…Let It Snow

Don’t have much time to write tonight, but just wanted to share a couple of pictures of the “kids”.  What a blast they’ve been having the past couple of days.  We don’t get a lot of snow, but this was one of those winter storms that comes along once in every decade or two.  I think that we finally ended up with about eight inches.

Mac and Scarlet have been having the best time running and playing hide-and-go-seek.  Scarlet woke us every couple of hours wanting to go out and play.  It’s a shame that it has to end. 

But it’s supposed to be Spring…

Okay.  We are in the South.  It’s March.  It’s supposed to be spring, right? 

We’ve had no snow to speak of this winter.  We’ve had temperatures in the 70s and the 80s throughout the winter months.  But now that the Jonquils are blooming and the trees are budding, winter has finally decided to arrive.  We’ve had varying reports depending on which meteorologist you’re listening to, but from what I can gather, we are to have somewhere between 6 and 12 inches of snow tonight. 

 Mac and Scarlet, our “children” (Border Collies) are loving it.  Can’t wait til tomorrow to watch them play.  I was planning on getting some really great pictures, but somebody took the good camera to work today and forgot to bring it home.  Oh well.

Anyway, sounds like tomorrow will be a good day to stay home and keep warm.  I think I’ll watch the dogs play from inside and maybe do some spinning. 

Cashmere Calamity

While writing my About Me page, I got to thinking back on earlier years and thought of our experience with  Cashmere goats.  I can’t say that it was a pleasant experience, but an experience it was!

We were looking for another fiber to compliment our wool.  Through his research, Perry had become interested in Cashmere goats.  After some discussion, we decided that cashmere would be a nice addititon for both spinning and blending.  After all, it’s a really nice fiber.  Calls were made, questions answered and it seemed the way to go.  All the necessary arrangments were made and Appy, Angel and Hope were on their way to us from Oregon… via Delta Airlines.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Only the best for our new critters.  We didn’t have a clue!

While anxiously awaiting their arrival, we received the phone call saying they would be a day late.  It seems they got stranded in Atlanta.  We had no way of knowing that goats could suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome.
Until that fretful day, Perry had never found an animal that he couldn’t calm down.  This trio gave the word stress a whole new meaning.  It was days before we could get them cornered into the barn.  Our sheep had always been docile, attentive, sweet natured and calm; this trio would jump six foot fences, run like the wind and then stop and look back as if to say “Catch me if you can.”  Any pre-conceived notions of Appy being happy and Angel being angelic were soon shattered.  And as for Hope… well, let’s just say that all hope for a thriving cashmere business soon was gone.  But this was only the foreshadowing of things to come.

Sure, it’s true that cashmere is a wonderful fiber, but what the previous owner of our new goats had failed to tell us, you have to catch them to get the fiber.  And catch them we never could.  Oh sure, we would see an occasional tuft of soft down hanging from a low-lying limb in the woods or maybe some on the bottom of the fence from those times when they bored of jumping over it and decided to go under instead.  We provided them with lush pastures, but the neighbor’s apples proved to be too much of a temptation.  Can you imagine our horror to see them standing on their back legs staring into the neighbor’s kitchen window?

Our careful genetic selections of bred females and an unrelated male were to result in an exceptional herd… NOT !  After the first year, we had an additional 11 bucks (no does) …all wilder than their parents.

The final straw, though, was the day we saw our 90 year old neighbor, Mrs. Tipps, chasing all 14 of them down the road back to our place.  Something had to be done.

So how did our Cashmere experience end?  Well, we heard of a livestock auction for St. Jude Children’s Hospital.  My nephew, a cancer survivor, had been a patient there and we have a special place in our hearts for St. Jude.  So we donated.  As Perry was struggling with them, trying to get them into the arena, the auctioneer saw them coming and auctioned them off before they ever got through the gate.