Ode to Joy

I simultaneously mourned and sulked throughout my day yesterday. Severus, our little baby turkey who had given us and a certain chicken hen great pleasure and love has disappeared into thin air and we don’t expect to see her again. We suspect an owl.
As always, I cried and cried, enough to spur David to bring Magic inside for a comforting visit. (Yes, the young ducks have all moved out of doors. Magic is the only one having difficulty with it; she’d much rather be a house duck but I’m sure she’ll adjust in time. Tonks and Lupin have found heaven amongst the muddy water and vegetation and never want to return indoors.)

Losing an animal yet again spurred me into questioning the path we have taken here for the first time. Why did I think I could be a farmer? My heart is too soft and my system too weak. I could no more send a lamb to market than I could slaughter one of my own children. What was I thinking?

Yet, this morning as I did farm chores solo due to David’s business trip, I remembered. The temperature was an amazing 60 degrees; the breeze was light; and the animals beckoning and full of affection. Between health issues and heat intolerance, I have not been as involved as I have been in the past and have lost sight of the joy the whole experience brings to me. I love the farm; I love being a farmer.

Yes, I hate losing animals. A little bit of me dies inside each time we lose one but if that’s the price I have to pay for having what we have, so be it. God willing, I will always be a farmer.

I will close the blog today with a wee bit of knitting progress. The very nice lady whose daughter will be the hopefully lucky recipient of one hand-knit-by-me Halloween and beyond Tasha dress wrote yesterday for a progress report. Here is Tasha’s A-line dress thus far; it’s just under half way completed. The flowers are a combination of intarsia and Fair Isle as I designed the dress (did the math, pulled out my abacus and slide rule, and checked the alignment of Jupiter and Mars) to be knit in the round before I realized it was impossible to knit straight intarsia that way. At this point, there was no way I was going to start from scratch and redesign so I fiddle-faddled with the flowers until I liked the result. What do you think? I’m pleased but it’s hard to be objective after staring at something hours each day.

While we are on the subject of Backyardigans Halloween costumes, here is Cowboy Tyrone’s sweater, in need of blocking, seaming, and finishing the neck. He’ll wear jeans, a bandana, and a black cowboy hat we have left over from a trade show for him to almost complete the ensemble. Do you think it’s a little much to buy a three-year-old cowboy boots?
He is the one and only Pint after all.

Comments

[Michelle]

Trust your gut, dear! If you're pleased with it in SPITE of looking at it for hours, then it's GOOD (and it IS)! As for the cowboy boots, I have two suggestions: a local resale store or eBay. GREAT places for things like little boy boots that kids outgrow so fast. Ask me how I know....

And now, I must get ready to go to town. I'm going to wear my mini-cardigan! I finished it earlier this week and finally had a chance to try it on last night. This one fits!

[Karalyn]

The sweater is darling --- I love the flowers and the colors are great. It will be a treasure, I'm sure. And I love Pint's sweater. I made all my son's sweaters and stuff for years. In fact, since he was born in September (in Michigan) he didn't really need a snowsuit until he was 3 --- so I knitted him a long "jacket-sweater" that got him through Winter #2 --- it was the first time I did a double knit and it was quite a project. But it kept him warmer then any snowsuit ever did.

As for the cowboy boots --- we moved to Colorado when my son was 6. His first babysitter was married to a trucker who wore Western boots. All Garrett talked about was getting cowboy boots. I said they weren't good for his feet and he kept telling me the sitter said they "keep your arches up."

We went back to Michigan that first year to spend Christmas with my Mother. Transported Santa Claus to my Mom's tiny efficiency unit. G opened his eyes Christmas morning and immediately (from his bed) spied the cowboy boots under the tree. He could hardly wait to get dressed and put them on. Whereupon he announced to everyone within hearing distance, "See Mom --- I told you --- they keep your CROTCHES up!"

As for the suggestion on where to get them -- I agree. G had very wide feet and I ended up shopping all the REAL western boot stores in Denver and when I finally found a pair they were EXXXXPENNNSIVE. Pint reminds me of G --- big for his pint-sized age. Hope you don't have the same problem. But he definitely SHOULD have some cowboy boots --- maybe Leroy needs them too. After all --- they keep your crotches up, Mom!!

[lacoste shirts]

A great man is always willing to be little—R. W. Emerson
It is not enough to be industrious, so are the ants. What are you industrious for?— H. D. Thoreau