Monday, November 27, 2023

Ocean's away

What a tranquil afternoon it was at the coast on Sabbath! No wind, blue sky, and "ocean's away" (an ebbing minus tide); I don't think we've ever seen it that low. Part of me missed having our dogs with us when so many others had theirs, but it was also nice to just walk and look without 'dog-parenting.' Of course I took lots of photos. This area is called "Land's End," the northern end of Lincoln City.



















At "land's end," where the sand ends at that rocky headland jutting out into the sea, one can clamor over the rocks to another smaller beach beyond if the tide is low enough. We did that, looking for agates and jade, but didn't stay long as the light was fading.




Even though it was clear and calm, there was a lot of surf action topped by near-constant veils of spray, presumably due to the action of the minus tide. It was mesmerizing.







With a better camera this would have been such a cool shot!

In other "away" news, today I separated the final breeding group. Sanson seemed more interested in 'fence-fighting' the other two ram lambs than in his two ewes, so I caught Boop and Broadway and led them to the pasture to join all the other girls. At first they were on the receiving end of some intro butting and shoving but soon, true to their 'mean girl' reputations, they were on the offensive. I will observe closely when I do chores tonight; if they haven't settled down I'll put the yearlings in the barn stall. I don't want to risk losing another sheep to bashing like I lost Bling and nearly lost her dam Blaise before her.




The boys seem to be getting along better together than the girls; I'm thankful for small favors.

That's it for the second post in two days(!) from . . .

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Present and past

It has been a busy second half of November, what with the usual, the new, and Thanksgiving; sorry posting last week got away from me. Brace yourself for the resulting glut of photos and topics!

For the first time I'm making a concerted effort to keep up with Wovember prompts on Instagram, which means more intentional photo-making than usual. It helps that the weather has been stunning – dry, mostly sunny days; frosty nights; some memorable sunrises. The sheep are enjoying being out every day, and I'm riding Stella near-daily (usually after turning out both horses in the arena) to give her an outlet for her energy.
















After a third visit from my friend last Wednesday, I'm finally WEAVING! I'm inordinately tickled with this simple practice piece of cotton twine warp and wool yarn weft (that I got from a Freecycle ad). It's a good thing my loom has been moved upstairs to our chilly bonus room/library, or I'd probably be spending more time than I should working on it.

We enjoyed the annual Thanksgiving gathering at our church on Thursday, and at Brian's request I made a second Thanksgiving dinner just for us for Sabbath dinner – after which Rick and I headed to the coast for a late-afternoon walk. It's a 'king tide' weekend and we arrived in time for a 'minus tide.' We didn't take the dogs, knowing we wanted to walk out on rocks not usually exposed, and it made for a lovely, relaxing 'date' for just the two of us (I took so many photos that I've decided to share them separately).

I keep getting reminded of the past by Facebook's algorithms and when I save photos to my blogging file. Yesterday FB showed me a post from three years ago, a video I took of Poppy excitedly greeting Brian when we went to visit him on his college campus. That was hard. If he had stayed the course, he'd be a senior in college now, preparing for a future career, maybe dating his future partner . . . not living with us in what I would describe as a state of suspended adolescence. And three years ago we all had no idea my dear step-dad would be gone a year and a half later. Yes, life looked a lot different three years ago, but time marches on and I need to face forward. What is that saying?
The past is history. The future is a mystery.
Today is a gift; that's why it's called the present.

Doing my best to enjoy the present at . . .