Tossed salad Sunday

I've gathered an assortment of ingredients (photos, thoughts) but no good dressing (title, theme) to tie them together, but I'm going to toss it all into a big bowl (blog post) and serve it anyway.

I've been treated to some beautiful sunrises lately. Dawn is breaking about the time I usually get up, but they are inching ever earlier. That's ONE good thing about the switch to Daylight Saving Time; I'll get to continue enjoying sunrises for several more weeks without setting my alarm any earlier. Not sure it is worth the semi-annual disruption, though; can't we just LEAVE THE CLOCKS ALONE?!?

Regardless of what the clock says, the seasons march on. Spring is springing.

The riot of color is a party for the senses, but I do love the stark, bare-bones beauty of winter. No worries; if I need a dose of monochromatic contrast and textures, I can create my own!

Our bird feeder has died another death, thanks to the raccoons no doubt. The birds miss the black oil sunflower seeds, and I miss the birds; hopefully Rick can rebuild it . . . again.

It is a relief this spring not to be watching bellies and backsides. All the sheep are growing right now is wool, wool I need to harvest in the coming weeks.  But first, samples will be collected for marketing and micron testing. I am going to use some of the proceeds from fleece sales to send off three of Blake's fleeces to be processed into roving. Most will be for sale, but I'm also feeling the urge to overdye his natural dark oatmeal for richer colors.

All the girls, apparently alarmed because I'm wearing a dress!

All the girls but Brigitte, who is – no surprise – at my feet.

Bree, one of Blake's daughters, on the right; two granddaughters on the left.

Mr. Gatsby has made himself at home. He was deferential to Jackson and Dozer; now he asserts himself occasionally which has caused some arguments. Mostly, though, things are copacetic, if much more littered with toys, hair, and occasional 'accidents' (not pointing fingers, as it could be anyone).

Jackson was right there, too, until I pointed my camera his way.

My riding muscles are feeling neglected thanks to the latest problem with my already compromised horse. Several possibilities are on the horizon; we're waiting to see what develops. In the meantime I plan to get on Rick's neglected horse; it will be good for him and keep me astride.

I'm almost done with my current knitting project, a pair of Romi Hill's Anvard Boot Toppers. Photos soon; hopefully in use. Surely we'll get a few more gray, rainy, cool days before summer comes!

That's it for now from . . .

Tipping point

After a cooler than average February, the temperatures are gradually "marching" upward. Until yesterday evening we were keeping the fire going 24/7, but by last night the house was 79° and we were all uncomfortable, so we let it go out.

After a clear night, pretty sunrise, and lovely day, the house has cooled off to 67° and I welcomed Jackson on my lap to warm my legs – and have my electric blanket preheating.

Such is the tipping point in the weather between winter and spring.

I wish I could find the tipping point to a more positive mood. I've had a pervading sense of sadness and loss lately, and I'm not sure why – although I suspect it is cumulative. No point in itemizing; besides, some are not mine to share. The best way through it to keep moving forward, doing what needs doing, appreciating beauty, petting puppies,  counting blessings, focusing on faith.

Edited: I posted this, and then found tomorrow's 40 Acts in my inbox. Act 18 – Persist fit like a glove over my cold hand. Isn't that just like the Lord – "a word spoken in due season, how good it is!" (Proverbs 15:23)

That's it for today from . . .

What I've got

This morning's crack of dawn:

Several shades of green:

A bluebird of happiness:

Visiting the neighbors on horseback:

A slice of afternoon sunshine:

And a text from my dentist that he can get me in at 2:00 tomorrow.

That's it for today at . . .

This is lamb-like!

After a wet start to March, today was lovely – crisp air, sunshine, and glorious skyscapes. This afternoon I got to wallow in it; Gatsby's girl came for a visit again and we took the Aussies for a walk up the hill.

That's the snowy flank of Mt. Hood shining below the clouds

Better than wallowing in self-pity, which I did earlier. We had a fellowship dinner after church, and I managed to find a partial pit in a "pitted" olive, breaking one of my upper molars on the same side that I lost the lower molar last fall. REALLY?!? The Lord must know my dentist really needs the work (he is getting married in two weeks – my dentist, not the Lord). We stopped on our way home to buy some temporary tooth cement to protect the sensitive exposed area, although getting it in place had me in tears before Rick put some lidocaine on the tooth. Here comes another root canal and crown....

Maybe this place should be named Toothless Acres instead of . . .