Grey

The word describes our weather and my mood. Since I PREFER our cool, cloudy weather over the oven-like atmosphere covering the rest of the country, I don't think that's contributing to my mood. Part of it is the burden I feel for the many people I know who are dealing with health crises. But moods are fickle things, not worth dwelling on, so let's not!

Yesterday Marta, Cadbury and Inky got sheared. I always look forward to the chance to get a good look at structure and condition - and then cover those freshly sheared fleeces for a clean harvest next year! My new gulmogets are quite small but correct and in good flesh; Inky was thin as expected. After shearing I trimmed hooves (Cadbury, Browning and Bart), then shuffled sheep to where they will remain for the rest of the summer. Browning, who was being a bully to Bart (and pushes the girls around sometimes) was put out with the big rams - where he immediately started trying to bully Blake! Marta and Sarai were moved to the corner pen of the ewes' fold, so they could get acquainted without harm, and Bart was put in the Ram-ada Inn where the new girls had been, next to Cadbury. Bart still needs to be wethered (the cobbler's children have no shoes), but at least he's weaned now.

Theresa Gygi has a most excellent post on Shetland sheep, their heritage and characteristics on her blog today. Check it out, and be sure to follow the link to the article from 1900! After reading this I feel even better about where my breeding flock is right now, bolstered by my three newest sheep with their wonderfully fine, soft, crimpy fleeces.

The resident barn swallows are raising four future fly-catchers. I feared they would run afoul (afeline?) of Oreo when they start to fledge, so last night I moved Oreo to the tack room for a few days to give the fledglings a better chance at surviving first flight. I hope the parents are able to forage enough food during this cool spell to keep their chicks fat!

Yesterday I started plying my Inky singles, using my beautiful tulip Jenkins Swan spindle for the first time. I got the mugs in Kentucky when we visited Sara a couple years ago (they are available here); they make perfect yarn bowls to hold my balls of singles.

Speaking of Inky, she looked pretty tough this morning. I'm not sure why; my shearer was kind and did what he could with her standing (I got the rest with scissors). Getting old is not for sissies, nor is it a picnic for those of us who love them.

That's it for today from . . .