Hats and bags

No, this is not a post about fashion; you've come to the wrong blog for that. I wear what I like and don't care much about what is in style. I don't like to wear hats and I don't change handbags to match my outfits. In fact, I get a handbag/shoulderbag I like, use it until it wears out, then get a replacement.

But I did cast on another Da Crofter's Kep  . . . and I may just have to keep this one.

I'm farther along than this now

After this one is done, I want to knit one more Fair Isle hat in the neutral colors below so I can offer "winner's choice" from three very different color schemes for the lambing contest yet to come. I'm thinking of ways to weight this contest to favor the small fraction of you who regularly comment; I appreciate you so!

I'd better keep my needles busy; the ewes are starting to bag up a little. It would be nice to have them sheared to make observation easier, but it's currently too cold for my hands to handle hours of scissor-cutting. So I just watch them and get my hands on them when I can.

The other day when I was in the fold, I got the opportunity to grab a three-generation shot of grandma Bree, daughter Bette, and granddaughter Boop. This is unusual, because Bette and Boop are two of my more skittish sheep, along with Bernadette. I think pregnancy is making Bette, at least, more friendly.

I'm letting the girls out for exercise and fresh grass as often as I can, which is when I can turn the horses out and then ride Stella. A couple neighbors in the woods have reported sitings of an immature cougar, so it's "eyes on" for safety, just in case one is around. I took this video and some stills from it a couple weeks ago and shared it on Instagram, then forgot to share it here. The three yearlings have more than enough energy to make up for the gravid ladies!

Even though the dogs and sheep get most of the focus here, Chuckie, the horses, and the hens get care and attention, too. Lance got some amendments to his stall so he doesn't electrocute himself playing with the light switch/outlet box.

Chuckie still wants to be part of the pack; I frequent scoop him up when I head out the front door to do chores and carry him down to the barn, which he loves.

The hens are doing well; they all know I am the bearer of goodies but only two are okay with handling. Splash actually seems to like it. She's one of my Whiting True Blues.

Finally, our happy little housemates:

I make our bed, then Poppy makes her nest

Rick is under there somewhere!

That's it for the menagerie for now from . . .