The Graham Effect

Ah, what an idyllic life. Spending an afternoon sitting out in a lush green field, listening to the birds call, watching the beautiful horses grazing up on the hillside, a big white guardian dog napping next to you as you enjoy visiting with some of your best friends...

"Hey there, Rebecca Boone, love the new 'do! Petunia, how are ya, chubby cheeks? Do you need some face scratching? Ewen McTeagle, my big baby, you got any new poems for me? Look how fast your hair's growing back, Keebs. Those are some pretty white curls you got going on there. GRAHAM LAMB!!!!! PUT THAT DOWN!!!!!"



Is that slobber or sheep breath fogging up my favorite lens?



"Oh, geez louise, Graham!"

Like the trail of destruction that follows him everywhere he goes wasn't enough, he had to leave a pee trail as well?!?

"Hey Graham!"



"What."

"Whatcha' eatin'?"



"Nothing."

"Isn't that pretty spiky?"



"Yeah, maybe."

"You should spit that out."



"I will if I want to."

Um, okay then.

Graham Lamb. Keeping it real.

The Art Of Napping

According to Hank.



"Why yes, I do know how handsome I am."



The boys (Keebler and Graham Lamb) will indeed wear you out.



And make you really tired.



Really, really tired.



So tired you can barely stand it.



"Hmm, if I move over a little I can still see my sheep from this strange thing the crazy sheep lady is sitting on."



"Yeah, this is kinda nice."

Fall

I was feeling a little under the weather this afternoon so decided to take a blanket, some hot cider, my camera and the new issue of Handwoven out to the arena paddock and hang out with Hank and the sheep. Actually, I mowed a couple paddocks first and when that didn't perk me up, that's when I knew I'd better take it easy ;-).

This is a beautiful time of year to take sheep shots. That's what I'll post today. It's also a great time to take Hank shots, so that will be tomorrow. Then, Graham Lamb is getting his own whole post following that (Dianne has got to be excited about hearing more GL stories - and yes, he did pee on me...again!).



Looks like we all had the same idea.



Boudreaux, Buddy (in back) and Woolliam



Rebecca Boone, sporting a stylish 'do, eh? Her top notch is sun bleached.



Can I get my dreads done like that too?

"Um, no, Woolliam."



Miss Emily



The ever lovely Miss Ewenice



Some big sky and changing clouds moving in.

"Wake up Hank. Time to head in."

Breaking And Entering

And not being smart enough to find your way back out.

Comby, one of the barn cats, is sure he should not only be a porch cat, but rather a house cat. He's constantly slipping through the back door, walks around his castle for a little while and then loudly announces that he's home (he just can't figure out the keep your mouth shut part), whereas I then realize what he's done and throw him back outside. Rinse and repeat.

I ran some errands this morning and came home to find the house looking like it had been burglarized. Since they only thing of any monetary value is a TV that's so old it would take several burglars to carry it out (and Saint Tim would probably be really excited as he'd love to have one of those new fangled high definition pitcher boxes ;-), I knew immediately it had to have been the work of Comby.

See, even though he's pretty sure he should be living in the house, his conscience (maybe) gets the better of him after awhile and he panics. And while on this particular occasion he somehow knocked the screen out of the back door to get in, he had apparently forgotten (or wasn't smart enough to figure out he could go back out the way he came in) and the window crashing began. He must run from room to room trying to jump out of closed windows.



Anything sitting on the sills (also known as clutter) hits the floor. An old bottle I'd found at Stella's a few years ago suffered a casualty, but I couldn't show you that because if you think the baseboards are dirty in this picture... Ugh.



I know you are sorry, Comby.



Yeah, I get it. Really, really sorry.



No, you are still not living in the house.

Another Who Does This Look Like?

It's just uncanny!



Happy Keebler.



Thoughtful (but happy) Keebler.



Sad Keebler? Oh no!

Maybe that's why his head is always tilted. Because he's always happy. I hope he's always happy. Well, there was this one time... And, go look, his face wasn't tilted!

I'm telling you. I could be a sheep psychic....or just psycho.

This mug was a tag sale find from my friend Charlotte. Who can find anything. And most likely under $1.00.

Thanks, Charlotte! I always love your goody bags :-). Even the bag had a sheep on it. And it was also under $1.00!



Charlotte is also a very talented rug weaver. I love this picture from her booth at the Kentucky Wool Festival. Every rug is tagged with "I used to be..." and she can take the weirdest recycled material, pair it with the perfect warp (strings going up and down) colors and turn it into fully functional, beautiful piece of art.

It's just uncanny!

The Kindest Sheep In The Whole World

I created tags for all of my roving this past weekend - a picture of each sheep with a little information about them. Buddy's pretty roving was accompanied by this picture and tag:



"Buddy is the kindest sheep in the whole world. He is the first to welcome any newcomer and has taken Miss Ewenice under his wing this fall. She's afraid of the new guardian dog and he stays with her like a comforting teddy bear."

I wonder if people read that and thought a. I was crazy b. I was making that up or c. all of the above. Not much of his roving sold.

This morning I fed Keebler and Graham Lamb, fed Hank and then opened the gate for all the sheep to go out back (they get locked up near the barn at night). Everyone came strolling out except Buddy, who stayed in the shed baaa-ing.

My first thought was that he was complaining about being cold with no hair. When everyone moved farther away and he remained in there calling out, I knew something was wrong. Head count. No Ewenice.



Ewenice is a big girl. Too big. And she's getting old and very arthritic. Ewenice was still lying down in the back corner of the barn and couldn't get up. Buddy wouldn't leave her and was obviously trying to get someone's attention. I helped her up and the two slowly left the barn together.

These two sheep are not related, nor are they even the same breed. Miss Ewenice, a Border Leicester, came from a friend in Frankfort, Kentucky, and Buddy, a Cotswold, came from Nistock Farms in New York. They are not even close in age. They are just friends. And the answer is d. Buddy truly is the kindest sheep in the whole world.

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Regarding the deer - yes, the same deer hit Saint Tim twice. Luckily he was watching for such a problem and saw the deer just ahead and slammed on the brakes. The trailer made some nice "elevens" and had come to an almost complete stop when the deer jumped into the side door of the truck, bounced off, spun around and jumped into the side of the trailer - in a complete panic. Luckily he/she hit both vehicles rather than ending up between them and then ran away. I was in the car behind him watching the whole horrible incident.

So, What Do You Do After The Wool Festival?

Go out to the barn and get more wool!



Woolliam curls.



"I'm not even speaking to you right now."

But aren't you cooler now, Buddy? By the way, Rebecca Boone, you are next.



Quit fussing, Woolliam. You know that the only difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is about three days ;-).



"Yeah, but my bangs are still crooked."



I think Brushy has the right idea. Well, it's pretty much his only idea...

We had a great weekend at the wool festival! Even with the locks not opening on our trailer when we got ready to load up to come home, oh, and hitting the deer...twice...on the way home. We got by with a little help from our friends.

And yeah, I think a nap in the cool grass might be a pretty good idea.