It Don't Do No Good To Get Angry

I went to the grocery yesterday to get some Epsom Salts and canned food for Comby...and I left my billfold at home.  I pulled out my car wash change stash and it looked like I had a little over $5.00.  Surely I could make that work.

Epsom Salts were more expensive than I thought, almost $5.00.  I added one can of cat food and headed to the cashier, hoping for the best.  "That will be $5.58, please."  Yikes, I might not have that much and I started counting, preparing to put the cat food back.  I had exactly, to the penny, $5.58.

"Someone was looking out for you!"  Things like that happen to me frequently enough that while I have no actual idea how the universe works, I do feel like there could be "guardian angels" and usually I take a deep breath and say "Thank you."

That was not what I was saying as I walked out to my car.  I felt like I was going to explode.  In my head I was yelling "You can count (blankety) change, but you can't watch out for a sweet little lamb?!?  I don't care about the (blankety) money!"  And I felt like an asshole.

Of course Auntie Reg got the brunt of all of this and the pretty well incoherent angry sobs of not only the meanness of the loss of Early on top of Abby, but of all those weeks of more great pictures and videos that I can no longer bear to look at and how I don't remember...anything?...anymore about Abby and I already can no longer "see" Early out in the yard or in the barn with Willard and Cheeto  and all the people all over who who were now as heartbroken as me and how much extra I hurt for each person as I read so many kind, but sad words and maybe I shouldn't have posted so much and drug everyone in and then I said something about well maybe everyone else could still go back and look at the pictures and they wouldn't all have been for nothing...and as I was saying those words to Reg, amyfibre was typing "We will hold on to all the good memories for you until you can bear them again."

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So my guardian angel, who, honestly, probably feels as bad as we do, couldn't save Early...but can count change...and send me an "Equinox Community of friends" who can all "sit with you on the porch, as the tears run down our cheeks. Imagining fetching you another beverage, patting a dog, looking out at the martins flying and the sheep grazing and the horses napping..."

I can't bear to look, but Early's probably out in the middle of the yard.  Or if he's not there, you might find him under the pine tree eating brambles.  Or checking on his chickens.  Maybe he's taking a nap with Cheeto or butting heads with Willard looking to see what he's eating.  Maybe he's strutting down the hill to go graze with the big boys or standing at the gate talking to the horses.  Maybe you'll get lucky and see him racing, leaping, skipping and spinning up the road.  And maybe one day I'll get brave enough to go back and watch the video of him jumping into the back of the car.  He was a wonder.

You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,Throw your hands in the air, say "; What does it matter?";But it don't do no good to get angry,So help me I know.    

John Prine

The Pieces Of My Heart

I slept in the kitchen with Abby because she was always so sick I was afraid to be in the other room and not know if she was in trouble.  It was one of the nicest parts, waking up with her right there every morning.  Or at least I remember that I loved that.

Because I remembered that I loved that part, I didn't hesitate to pull out my bedroll and sleep in the kitchen with Early his first couple of nights.  He'd had a stressful start to life.  Having his "mom" nearby all night would be a comfort.

Early never slept in his crate.  He'd go in there to hang out sometimes, but he always slept out in front of it with my bedroll and pillow flanking him.  When he got hungry, he'd wake me up.  We'd fix a baba, he'd go pee on a towel and then we'd lay back down in our beds and go right back to sleep. 

When he was tiny I'd wake up to find his tiny nose tucked in the corner of my blanket, next to my pillow.  As he got bigger, I'd wake to his sweet face up on my pillow.  And it seemed silly to sleep on the floor in the kitchen with a lamb, but it made me so very, very happy to wake up like that that.  And even if the world hadn't gone crazy and scary and so incredibly sad, I'd have slept there. 

I tried several times to take pictures of his face tucked in with mine, but it was always too dark.  And one click of the camera would alert him to me being awake and he'd jump up, ready for a baba and then we'd hit the ground running. 

Two nights ago the weather finally broke enough that I decided we could both move out to the porch.  I rearranged the furniture, set up our beds.  It took him awhile to settle in and go to sleep.  So long that I almost gave up and moved us back inside, but with my hand resting on his back, he finally fell asleep.  We had a good night and I woke to find his head snuggled on my bedroll.  And I took a picture.

Our morning started like normal.  Baba, coffee, cereal on the sidewalk while he happily grazed in the yard.  By mid morning something was wrong and we headed to the vet.  By mid afternoon he was gone.  Autopsy showed a fast acting clostridial infection even though he'd been vaccinated against that. 

Was the vaccine bad?  Did he not get enough colostrum when he was born?  I try to be so incredibly careful feeding lambs because of this risk.  Is it our grass?  Did I stress him too much by making him sleep out on the porch?  I can't stop it.

It took months to get over losing Abby.  Many months.  Two years later, I still can't look back at her pictures and videos.  It's all I can do to post this last picture of Early today.  I am so angry.  And so hurt. 

"...the pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me..."  Iris Dement

Stand By Me

This might be my favorite horse picture to date.  At least the top five.  I wish Frankie didn't have his grazing muzzle on, but with all that green grass, it would be a death sentence if he didn't.  It sure is pretty, but it's not doing anyone any favors here...except a photographer.

Both this picture and yesterday's are new puzzles :-).  Enjoy!

Early Foggy Morning

Or Early, Foggy Morning ;-).

We woke to heavy fog this morning.  A complete white out.  As I walked around the yard with Early while he did a little early morning grazing with Willard, I snapped some pictures with my phone...and thought to myself, "Sigh, I wish I had my big camera."  

Um, the big camera is just inside the house.  So I trekked All The Long Way Back In...which I can do without upsetting Early because he's just that good, and took some pretty pictures this morning.  I have a nice horse shot that I'll post tomorrow. 

I've been wanting to do a blog all week, but thought I didn't have any new pictures to share and I feel a bit weird reposting Instagram pictures over here because I figure if anyone wanted to see Instagram pictures...they'd be following or at least watching the Instagram feed already.  Maybe that's not the case.  Let me know.

Anyway, as I was scrolling back through my phone last night looking for something, I found a whole series of pictures I took of a bee swarm Stella and I picked up a week or so ago and had already even forwarded them to my computer specifically for a blog post.  I can't get out of my own way sometimes.

Sorry for the long break in blog posts.  This is my diary.  I'm going to regret the missing posts.  I already do. 

Happy Mother's Day - Lamb Camp Edition

These are California Reds at Morgandell Farm in Cynthiana, Kentucky.  One is a new puzzle :-).

A Funny Story About Early...And Maisie

I've had several questions about what Maisie thinks about Early...and there's a funny story there.  

"This is NOT a funny story!"

I know she's seen him playing in the barn aisle.  There's no way she's missed that.  He's in and out all day long and usually at least once at night.  She's the barn guardian now for crying out loud.  

One night last week I was putting out minerals in the feeder in the outside stall and I heard a loud commotion in the barn aisle.  My first fear is always the short dog.  Tilly hates lambs...and Early LOVES Tilly.  Not a great combo and I try to never be out of sight when they are together.

I raced back in and found Maisie frantically running laps in the aisleway, Early close on her heels doing his very best "Hi!  I'm Early!"  Her eyes were as big as saucers and I'm pretty sure she was using some grown up words.  Very grown up words.

There has never been once in her life that she's ever done anything I told her to do.  I opened the cross gate and called her name and she raced back in, tail twirling.  And I'm pretty sure she'll never sneak out that gate again ;-).