Sum-sum-shiploadtime (again)

Yep, here comes another sporadic mega-dump of jumbled thoughts and photos, since posting more reasonably sized installments more often seems beyond me at this time in my life. The sing-song voice of Mary Poppins comes to mind, but with a different string of consonants and vowels – something like "Sparringspinningskirtingshippingpicklingsunsetsparentstress."
And for Julie Andrews' encore – let's all join in together now – "Doe, a deer, a female deer...."

Ahem.

I took those photos using the Sheep Sheraton as a blind; too bad she didn't have her fawn with her! The skinny old doe with twin fawns is staying close to our easternmost neighbor's house, where she is being supplemented with apples and organic oatmeal and rests next to the walk-out basement patio doors on a rug (seriously).

The girls have finally gotten used to each others' 'new dos' and have stopped sparring so much.

Sarai with her daughter Bardot

Where was Bardot's twin Brigitte? Mugging me for attention, of course.

The boys are still in a divided Ram-Ada Inn. Blake hasn't shown any improvement since his shockwave treatment and I hate to turn them out together with him so gimpy on a front leg, even though good grass is going to waste. Maybe I should just turn the girls out into the wooded lot....

I skirted the final four fleeces Sunday and shipped two of them off to a new customer yesterday; another one goes out tomorrow. Only two fleeces remain to be sold.

I've been spinning up another color sample of Jamieson & Smith combed Shetland top while waiting for the Tour de Fleece to begin. Yesterday I spent 2 1/2 hours at my ophthalmologist's office; I would have gone stir-crazy without this to keep me occupied during all the downtime!

What was left at the end of my waiting time; note "matchy-matchy"

 A new Turkish spindle flew in out of the blue last week, a surprise destash from a dear blogpal. I'm going to use this while spinning for the – what else? – TdF Team My Favorite Sheep!

I did buy that book I mentioned in my last post:

After a quick scan, two pints of snow peas were promptly put in brine to await the magic of fermentation:

Brian finally finished weeding the arena and got his fancy cowboy boots in payment.

He's working for Rick until his new summer job starts later this week; he's going to be driving one of these six-figure machines for harvest season:

This is a new development in the ongoing saga of "How much independence can I wrangle and still get all the perks of living at home for free?" The tale is so gripping that it will keep you up at night! (Or maybe that's just his parents and grandparents.)

Last night we enlisted Brian's help moving dry firewood from the pallets into the woodshed. It was not where he wanted to be or who he wanted to be with (his friends were hanging out down by the river), but we got 'er done. Now the pallets are available for the fresh firewood that Rick and Brian worked on cutting and splitting last Sunday at a vet client's place.

It's not like we keep him caged; on Saturday Brian drove to the coast to spend all day with his high school class. Rick and I went to church and then spent a quiet afternoon at home, followed by an evening walk up the hill.

Goodness, this is long; a new episode from the Chuckie Channel will have to wait. That's plenty for now from . . .