When do you pull the plug?

Don't worry; I'm not talking about life and death here. Blogger/Google is having issues and the Dashboard Reading List isn't functioning. That means I cannot see with a glance or a scroll all the new posts on the various blogs I follow. I miss keeping up with new posts; I follow the blogs I do because I enjoy them. Some are fiber-related; some are about horses, or dogs, or farm life, or just life in general. Some are educational and some are philosophical; some are inspiring and some are funny. Some have introduced me to true and dear friends, whether we've met IRL (in real life) yet or not.

Feeling deprived, today I started down the list of blogs I follow, going first to those I knew would have posted since Blogger's troubles started. Then I started clicking on some of the blogs that haven't been updated in awhile – some in a looong while. Quite a few have been silent a year; some two or three years. Us followers are left to wonder. Sometimes I offer a prayer for these blogpals gone missing, hoping life has not brought them crippling challenges.

At what point do you stop following a blog; free up that spot on your list so you can follow a different one? (Yes, I am pretty much at the maximum number of blogs Blogger lets you follow.) After three years, should I assume someone is never coming back to blogland?

I know what my problem is: I'm too curious. I don't want to miss anything! What if one of these long-silent bloggers starts posting again, explaining their absence while sharing their heart and life? I have to ask myself if it will matter. Will my life be any different if I'm not following when someone revives their neglected blog? Maybe; maybe not. But if our connections make us richer, then I would be poorer, right?

Do you ever pull the plug?

Just in case, here are some flowers for the deceased. My grandma's lilies.

That's it for today from . . .

Music Monday

From Brian's violin lesson last Monday.

That's it for today from . . .

Tagged, bagged, and delivered

or

The shortest visit ever to Black Sheep Gathering

Just under the wire of Jet's departure to his new home, Rick helped me tag all the lambs Saturday night.

Yes, there is blood on Benny. He jumped when Rick punched, and got a little half-circle cut out of the bottom edge of his ear, poor boy. So he got two wounds!

After tagging them all, I monkey-picked all the stickers and foxtail seeds out of Jet's fleece. At first he fought the halter, but then he started enjoying the attention and finally melted into my hands.

This morning bright and early I loaded Jet into a big dog crate and Sarai's fleece into the cab and drove to Eugene to deliver both. Jet's new owner looked him over and approved her future flock sire, then he was installed in his deluxe accommodations for the trip to California.

(Love that small stock box; it's just what I need for moving adult sheep in the back of my pick-up!)

Next I grabbed Sarai's fleece, walked briskly through the vendor halls to the Jenkins Woodworking booth, and handed it over to Wanda. I took about 10 seconds to admire a couple tulipwood Turkish spindles before jumping back in my truck to head home. No time to shop; I had a date with some friends and horses I didn't want to miss! (Details from that part of my day will be on my horse blog.)

That's it for today from . . .

Seeing red

That's it for Friday's harvest, at . . .