Promises, pears and pickles

I have sheepy shots, as promised.

Sara recently posted some sweet pix of sitting with her new sheep, and it made me realize how long it's been since I've done that. With all that's on my plate and no lambs to make friends with this year, my old friends just haven't gotten the attention we all enjoy so much. Thanks to Sara, I took a little time to remedy that....

Browning and Blake are in the Sheep Sheraton. It is not a good idea to go in and schmooze with a ram, but perfectly fine to give a respectful fellow some loving scritches over the half-wall. (Browning couldn't be bothered; there was fresh hay to eat.)

The other three wethers and Bramble are hanging out in the wooded lot. I had to laugh at Bingaling bedded down under the feeder:

When I upended a bucket and sat down for a chat, Bramble and Bittersweet came over to say "Hi," but Bing wanted more and I was happy to oblige.

Big Bart was too suspicious to approach:

I'll have to work on that this winter in the sheepfold!

Today, processing the second batch of soup, making pickles and canning prunes were on my agenda, but last night Rick brought home two bulging bags of groundfall pears from a client's place. Sigh. I couldn't just throw them to the chickens!

So besides another five quarts of condensed tomato soup, I've added seven quarts of ginger pear sauce to the pantry, and a crockpot full of ginger pear butter is simmering as I type.

Break time's over. Let's see if I can knock out a couple cannersful of dill pickles before bed!

Back to the salt brines at . . .