Shearing is completed!

With the help of fellow breeder Tamara Hill (Rocking Hills Ranch flock number 84 – my flock number is 1480!), as of today my whole flock is sheared. All of them were pretty good or very good about it but one. Bauble was the 13th sheep we sheared, and she seemed determined to prove the superstition about that 'unlucky' number. After an easy and cooperative start she started fighting us, jumping and bucking or trying to collapse completely; by the time we got her done (off the stand for everyone's safety), Tamara and I agreed to call it a day. At least no one got hurt, other than our aching backs. I didn't take many photos this year, but had to take at least one to capture Bauble's lack of cooperation:

3/27's IG/FB photo

I don't know how much skirting I'll get done before surgery. I have a lot that must be done before April 9 as well as our church's women's retreat this weekend that I've already paid for, so skirting may have to wait until later. I forgot to snip side samples from two sheep before shearing them, so those would be the ones I'd start with in order to get all my samples mailed off to Texas A&M for micron testing sooner rather than later.

I saved my waste wool to mulch my rhubarb this year, which is something else I hope to get done (along with the requisite weeding) before surgery. I'm worried that recovery is going to keep me from having a vegetable garden this year, unless Rick takes the initiative on garden prep along with everything else he'll be doing. (He has already done a little work on our one-year-old strawberry patch, but has a lot left to do.)

Surgery looms closer and ever more real. My pre-op appointment with the PA was yesterday, after another set of x-rays were taken specifically to guide the procedures. The PA showed me the hardware I will have and briefly described their placement in a way that sounded like no big deal but clearly IS a very big deal. I understand that pain control is a must in order to do the exercises that will determine a good outcome, but the thought of being on narcotics scares me almost as much as the surgery itself (it doesn't help that I've been listening to Tommy Orange's books). I have a prescription for an at-home surgical rehab machine that I'm told by my doctor's office that my insurance has approved, but am awaiting confirmation of that. And I have an estimated pre-pay amount for my surgery (that probably doesn't cover the two-night hospital stay) which would cover a very nice vacation for two. Good thing I'm a home-body!

Besides the above photo of Bauble and one of daffodils, my IG/FB photos have been all about the sky shows lately. Enjoy – I sure have!

That's it for now from . . .

Counting down and checking off

With surgery looming on April 9 I've entered countdown mode, starting to check off things that must be done before I'm laid up for awhile. I need to start a written list so I don't forget the various house and barn staples I need to stock up on, the medical devices I need to procure, tax payments that must be paid ahead of time, etc. I need to confer with the two friends and a neighbor who have volunteered to stay with me for the first week while Rick and Brian are at work to create a schedule. And 'just in case,' I need to fill out an advance directive and write down some specific instructions for Rick regarding the dispersal of my sheep, horses, and fiber tools.

Tuesday I went to Salem Health's joint replacement class. Most of what the nurse and physical therapist covered is in the book I was given at the appointment with my orthopedic surgeon, but going over it again and getting to ask questions was worthwhile. One of the friends who has volunteered to stay with me attended as my 'coach.' My sister has also been passing on pearls of wisdom from her own knee replacement experience and those of people she knows. I think I'll be as prepared as it is possible to be without having gone through any prior surgery and recovery.

A BIGGY to check off before surgery is getting my flock of 15 Shetlands sheared, and thanks to the help of a fellow Shetland breeder, we're over halfway there. We can only do one or two a day; even with both of us working together, one on each side, each sheep still takes 2-3 hours. I am SO thankful for her help; doing them all myself before surgery would have been impossible. She has also agreed to give my flock a home should anything happen to me, relieving me of any concerns about their future welfare.

Unfortunately, shearing yearling Bernice yesterday confirmed a growing suspicion. When her half-brother Bud escaped briefly last winter and responded to her flirtation in spite of his broken shoulder, she got pregnant. I didn't record the date and the signs are subtle at this point; I don't see her lambing by April 9. The disastrous results of lambing season three years ago that started when I was in Texas helping my parents still haunts me; now I'm in more knots over little Bernice's situation than I am over my surgery. Hopefully I can at least get my guys to help me clean the sheep fold in order to set up the lambing jug in the corner so it's ready when needed.

IG/Facebook and assorted blog post-specific photos follow (IG posts have words in quotes).

"Apparently a dual-purpose Nylabone."

"Interesting dayscape and nightscape from yesterday" (two photos)

"Morning  cuddles."

"Good morning!"

"The first of my yearlings was sheared yesterday–such SOFT, fine, crimpy fleece!"

"I don't share many photos of Chuckie because he's usually too close for a good photo."

"More grey yearling gorgeousness (I have three) and, unfortunately, an unplanned little bun in one of the ovens." (three photos)

Bernice from the side.

My four-legged flock and herd. Enjoying them while I can.💕

Oh, and happy Spring Equinox! (Yes, it is raining.)

That's it for now from . . .

Chaos

I'm going to bury the lede by dumping a bunch of photos. If your own life is stressful right now, you may want to skip reading about mine. (Then again, sometimes I find it helpful to know that I'm not the only one dealing with 'stuff'. If the shoe fits, read on!)

First, photos shared on IG/FB (plus a few extras), which have gotten more regular again:

"My eastern view from home and on my way to work this morning. I could not capture Mt. Hood's magnificent  presence!" (2 photos)

"Looking forward to a great concert date with my honey!"

Lyle Lovitt and his acoustic group put on a great show

A detail from the lovely Elsinore Theatre

"The sheep are getting ragged around the edges. WHEN will I have time to shear them???"

"The past few days have felt like a spring fling!"

"Last night's clear sky. Orion is my favorite constellation."

"Hmm,  those colors remind me of something. 😍"

"I chased this sunset up the hill a few miles past our lane trying to get a good shot."

"Interesting wisps in the eastern sky this morning."

"Happy Sabbath!"

"Bitsy and Lance, making my day.." (4 photos)

"The ear gnats are out again, so Stella's bonnet is back in use. She knows it helps and accepts it readily."

"Good morning!"

"We're having fungi weather again."

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Rick has almost vacated his old clinic space. The only thing holding us up from giving the new owners the keys they've been hounding us for is getting phone service switched over to the new office. For now we have to keep the landline in the old space and forward the phone to the new secretary's mobile phone during the day and to the answering service for nights and weekends.

The rest of 30 years of accumulation has been moved, some (not enough) to burnpile/trash/recycling, some (shoehorned in) to the new office, and some (WAY too much) to our home. There is stuff stacked in our garage, our daylight basement, the barn aisle, the shed, and on our big trailer. Rick hasn't been able to park on his side of the garage since he brought home a truck AND trailerful of stuff home from Dad's shop last summer; now I can't park in the garage, either. Supposedly most of what he has brought home will be stored in the shop once it is finished; Brian is grumbling that there will be no available space to actually work on vehicles in the 'shop' (which is an indication of other issues).

Through the process of losing both my dads, my desire to declutter and downsize has grown increasingly stronger, and I have taken steps to both get rid of things and minimize further accumulation. But I'm shoveling out with a teaspoon while the men of the family are hauling in with a dump truck, adding despair to the physical/mental/emotional exhaustion I was already struggling with. In my experience, what my guys bring in never leaves, even if it is large and visible (prime examples are a dead pick-up, a dead car, one dead and one dying tractor, two dead riding lawnmowers, and a homemade trailer, now rotting, that we pulled behind the car when we moved to Oregon in 1989). Our little acreage has become an embarrassment and a burden, and I see no way to effect change – not a good emotional state. On top of that, I am aware that FAR worse things are happening to many in our country and on our planet; Lord, help us all.

Proof of life

After my dad died (dad #2, that is), I tried to call my mom daily to make sure she was doing okay. She didn't always hear her phone (or didn't know where it was, or had inadvertently silenced it) so after asking the neighbors to check on her at various times, I finally asked her to check in with me instead, even if it was just to text "POL" (for Proof Of Life).

I have been trying for awhile now to post here, but between a lack of discretionary time and physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, I just couldn't get 'er done. Then yesterday I got a sweet PM from a Rav-pal, checking in to see how life was going since I have so much on my plate these days and wanting me to know she is thinking of me. I took time this morning to respond to her, and decided my response, below, could be used to give my blogpals POL.

"Thanks for checking in. I'm keeping my head – well, at least my nostrils – above water and that's about it.

“My surgery date is April  9 – if I don't have to delay it. We are still in the process of moving my husband's vet clinic into the new space, and yesterday I started training a new hire in the chaos of boxes and supplies everywhere and no phone service. I have some concerns about her and if she doesn't work out, I'll have to continue covering the office until someone else can be found and trained.

“My sister and I were going to converge on my mom in TX next week to help her get ready to move from a 5-bedroom, 2-car garage house into a 2-bedroom apartment near my sister's in NE, but she adamantly refused our help so I cancelled my ticket this morning. That takes one thing off my plate but we know she is NOT going to be able to do this without our help whether she likes it or not. Since her move-in date is May 1, I won't be able to BE any help if I don't change my surgery date. But the thought of postponing makes me cry; I'm taking two Aleve twice a day and am still barely functioning at times.

“The other thing that MUST be done before surgery is getting my flock of 15 sheared. Doing it myself in my usual time- and labor-intensive way isn't physically possible; getting on a  professional's schedule is iffy. But another Shetland breeder has agreed to come help me, so I think we'll get them sheared at least. Most of the skirting will probably have to wait, but I have a few fleeces already reserved that I will do my best to skirt and ship off before surgery/recovery.

“At least my son is working again!"

I have photos on my iPhone to share but not enough time to download and save them, so I'll just add one more piece of farm news. Bridget miscarried a dead lamb, so provided none of the little escape artist ewe lambs got bred through the fence, I don't have to worry about a lambing season. A blessing in a bane, I guess.

That's it for now from . . .