The Chillicothe Farmers Market is a very fortunate market.  We have folks from all walks of life here, whether it be buyers or sellers.  We also have a wonderful group of young gentlemen from the Lighthouse Youth Center's horticulture program.  I know, I know, you're used to the footloose fancy free stories I tell, but on this rare occasion I am going to highlight a group with a bit of control.  It'll be hard, but in the end I'll reward myself with a bit of chocolate.     
     Lighthouse Youth Center is a wonderful organization here in Ohio that provides much needed services for children of all ages and their families.  Services dealing with issues like abandonment, homelessness, family crisis, and learning self sufficiency.  They even provide residential care and have a State supported private juvenile correctional facility.  Basically, Lighthouse is a much needed organization for our community.  Thousands of families each year need their help and support.  At the top of every page on their website is the slogan, "Brighter lives for youth and families."  It is our duty to give these up and coming individuals our support any way we are able.
     Now that you've read this you're wondering what you can do.  Well, that's easy.  Go to the Chillicothe Farmers Market on Saturday between 8:00 a.m. and noon.  While you're there, head on over to see Mr. Throckmorton and the Lighthouse Youth Center Horticulture Program's booth.  They're not hard to find - opposite end of the market from the token booth on the right side.  They sell a huge variety of plants - from herbs to flowers to vegetables.  There's no way you can look at the plants they have and not find something.  We have personally bought  plants from Lighthouse for years now.  They are always wonderfully cared for and maintained.
     Here's the great thing about purchasing plants from Lighthouse Youth Center's Horticulture Program...the money goes towards the horticulture program.  That's right!  In fact, Mr. Throckmorton told me right now they're raising money to buy another greenhouse - one they will not only buy materials for, but build, too.
     The young men of Lighthouse that participate at the Market on Saturday mornings are always a joy to see.  They work hard and are friendly.  The youth that are part of the Lighthouse Youth Center's Horticulture Program are learning valuable skills that will help them in a variety of ways.  Just think of it, they are helping run a business.  They are literally planting seeds, nurturing them, and learning valuable life skills.  
     So, there you have it, folks.  While you're out and about on Saturday morning, make it a point to stop by the Market and visit with the young men of Lighthouse Youth Center's Horticulture Program.  The money you spend on their plants will be invested in future programming and other needs of the horticulture program.  If you'd like to learn more about Lighthouse Youth Center go to http://www.lys.org/professionalservices.html  I do believe I've earned myself a bit of chocolate.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 
     

     Gesh, I tell ya, it doesn't take much to stir things up around here.  I just came inside from evening chores.  The last thing I do is walk around and do a head count of sheep and lambs.  No big deal...usually.
     Tonight when I took my nightly walk around the pond pasture I noticed behind the levy there was a clump of white wool on the ground.  At first my heart did a bit of a jump, as I hadn't seen the two white ewe lambs yet.  Then as I got closer I noticed it was Fella's wool - and I saw the lambs.
     You see, Icelandic sheep do this thing called rooing, which is when their wool comes off on it's own in the spring.  Sometimes it works well, but other times not so much.  This year I let Fella roo his wool off and it worked quite well for him...except for the wool hula skirt he was sporting because that particular area of wool wasn't ready to come off.  That's what I found laying on the ground.
     Since it was just laying there I picked it up.  Oh my goodness, you'd think the sky opened up and hurtled lightning bolts in the pasture!  Tucker's head came up and he started doing this snorty thing.  After that it was shear pandemonium!  Tucker and Rain ran across the levy with the sheep trailing right behind.  Tucker and Rain came blasting down behind the pond where I stood while the sheep kept running away.  And then I realized.  It was the wool I was holding.  They thought I had a lamb in my hands.  
     I tried to convince Tucker it was just a clump of wool, letting him sniff at it, but he didn't believe me.  He looked at me like I was an evil lamb snatcher.  I just shook my head and walked away to visit with Crystal.  The rams were eyeing me like I was a lamb snatcher, too, even when I shook the wool at them so they could see it didn't look the least bit lamb-y.  Then when I bundled it back up and started walking to the gate the riot formed again.  Horses must have a short memory.  It's like they totally forgot what I was carrying.  At that point their noise had gotten the sheep baaaing, roosters crowing, geese honking, and dogs barking.  If the rabbit made loud noises I bet I'd have heard him, too.  They're all nuts.
     So, there you have it folks.  Seems it's not very hard to get things stirred up around here, even when that's not my intention.  I left the field with wool in hand, knowing next time I'll think twice about picking it up.  Maybe I'll let Hon do it instead.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 

     Finally ~ the Chillicothe Farmers Market is up and running for the 2013 season! It was great seeing all my old friends, as in ones I've known already...which has nothing to do with the conversation I had with Don Shoemaker of Sunny Bank Farm yesterday about being old.  According to him we're both 45.  I think next time I see him I'll have to find out what his secret is to being 45 but looking, well, how should I put it?  Oh shoot, I'll just say it - a lot older than that.
     Another nice thing about the Market starting up again is meeting all the new folks.  Sure, we've lost a few over the winter for a variety of reasons, but there's always new folks joining us on Saturday mornings, offering the area a variety of locally grown and/or baked products.
     Yesterday morning I made the mistake of going to the Market without having had any breakfast.  Okay, you got me, I knew there'd be a whole bunch of homemade goodies there that would go fantastic with my coffee from Two Roasting Joes.  Not eating at home meant me having to do some sampling at the Market.  Yesterday I had Pap's Hilltop Honey to my right and Ashley's Confections to my left.  As much as I wanted that honey, I didn't think me sitting there, honey spoon in hand while I spun yarn, would work out very well.  I figure I'd scare folks off if I had my face in a pie plate, too, so I had to think smaller.  As my stomach continued to grumble I looked across the way.  Hmmmmmm, someone new...with baked goods.  
     Next thing you know I was on my feet, heading on over to introduce myself to the wonderful bounty of baked goods...and Jaime, who is the wonderful creator of Yummies by Jaime.  Why, I even used my best manners and put my shoes on before going over.  I can't stand wearing my shoes when I'm at the spinning wheel, so I tend to walk around without them.
     I must say, Jaime and her son are two of the nicest people I met yesterday.  That's them up there in the top left corner, by the way.  Don't forget to use those wonderful manners you have and wave back.  They are so wonderfully friendly and kind.  They also had a table full of Yummies that were just calling my name.  There were peanut butter brownies, chocolate chunk cookies, and frosted snickerdoodles - which aren't to be confused with the snickerpoodle dog treats I was selling.  Definitely not the same.  Oh sure, you can eat the dog treats, too, but I think you'd be happier eating the people treats.
     As I perused the table, something caught my eye...Meyer Lemon Cookies.  Ohhhhhh, I just lurvs me some lemon cookies!  A package of those were in my hand in no time.  Then I saw it...one left...and because it was the last one, I knew I couldn't leave it there surrounded by all the cute little mini tangerine bundt cakes...a mini rustic blueberry pie.  Nope, I kid you not!  When I picked it up, it fit nicely in the palm of my hand, showing me it was made to go home with me.  Notice I said home with me.  No need to pig out on all the Yummies at once.  I can be practical about these things.
     Honestly, those lemon cookies were fantastic.  They were baked just right and, I'll admit it, better than mine.  When I got home in the evening I found that Hon was making a blackberry pie.  I know, weird, huh?!  Being the generous wife that I am, I cut my mini blueberry pie in half and offered him a piece, but he said he'll wait on the one he was baking.  I was secretly jumping for joy over that, but let's just keep it between ourselves.  Okay?  I will tell you I was a good girl about it, though.  I had only half of my blueberry pie and saved the rest until today so I had room for a piece of Hon's pie, too.  I didn't want to hurt Hon's feelings.  And you know what?  That mini rustic blueberry pie tasted as good after lunch today as it did yesterday.  
     So, there you have it folks.  Yummies by Jaime.  She's sweet, her son's sweet, and all those desserts are most definitely sweet.  Looks like I'll be back to that exercise video sooner than I thought...  Smiling & Waving, Sharon

     You know, usually I'm straddling the fence when it comes to fate and whether I believe it.  Same thing with karma, although I have hoped it's real, because I'd like karma to have taken a big chunk out of some well deserving back ends over the years.  Right now I've taken a leap off the fence and onto the fate must be real side.
     Yesterday started out as any other day around here with chores, breakfast, and starting school.  While Young'un was working on his spelling I decided to check the email.  There was one in among all the junk I've been recently inundated with that had the subject line "Bottle Lamb" from another Icelandic breeder.    
     Come to find out, the family had a lamb that was born on Sunday that needed bottle fed and they wanted to know if we were interested in buying her because they weren't able to do the bottle feeding, which I totally understand.  Now I know you probably think I said a big, "Yeeeeehaw!" tossed the kids in the car, and sailed on over for her, but I didn't.  I decided to be practical about it (yes, that does happen on occasion) and called Hon to get his thoughts on the matter.  You see, the family with the lamb was a good three hours from here, so they weren't just around the corner.  The other thing was that Hon happened to have to go up there yesterday afternoon.  He's never been up there before, and who knows if and when he ever will again, but as fate would have it, he was to be in the same area.  I know...weird, huh!  
     Hon and I talked about bottle feeding duties, as it's not something we've had to do here before.  I also talked with the kids and we decided with all of us pitching in we'd do a fine job of it.  So, that was that.  We decided to bring that little ewe lamb home.  Funny thing about Hon being up in that area was what he went up for to begin with didn't end up happening.  If he had known before the trip that he didn't need to go up there, he wouldn't have.  See.  Fate.  Totally.
     Last night Hon got home and he and Eldest went out to put together some one lamb accommodations for the little gal in the stall Dandy is in with her twins at the moment.  That way she would have some nearby company, but not tick Dandy off by trying to get under her for milk.  We were told she wasn't taking a bottle well, so when it came to bottle feeding time, we didn't know what was going to happen, but she took to it lickety split.  Man oh man can that girl suck down the bottle!  I swear I'm going to time her on it tomorrow.  From then on, we were hooked...smitten...head over heals!
     This morning Hon and I went out to give her a bottle.  We actually discussed who would be the one to give it to her; 6:00 a.m. and we're fussing over who got to do it.  We shared the responsibility, by the way.  This afternoon Young'un went with me and he fed the little lamb.  This evening Kid was out there with me to feed her.  Hon said he's going to go check on her this evening before he goes to bed.  Basically, she's getting a lot of care.  I think we're spoiling her.  Oh shoot, who am I kidding.  We are spoiling her and I have to keep telling myself and the kids she's not a puppy.  I took her with me in the back pasture for a bit this evening so Minnie and Trixie could check her out because I'm worried that she doesn't have a mama sheep figure for guidance.  I'm hoping that maybe Minnie and the lamb will become friendly since I don't think Minnie is pregnant and I think she'd be a good role model....not to mention Minnie is a tiny ewe.  What can I say, I'm a mom and I can't help but worry about the lamb and her welfare for when she's out in the field.  Besides, it's fate.
     So, there you have it.  Our new lamb that fate brought home.  Young'un, by the way, named her Crystal when we were tucking him in this evening.  I think she's a great addition to our farm and Kid has visions of taking Crystal to the fair as part of his breeding project this year since he's helping raise her.  Yup, it's fate.  I'm sure you'll be hearing more about Crystal as she grows up.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 

     Yesterday started out like any typical Sunday.  Well, it started out with me hoping I didn't have another Murphy's law week, actually, but that's neither here nor there.  It was a glorious day!
     I went out to take care of morning chores.  I also had a plan brewing.  You see, I knew our ewes were to begin delivering their lambs any time, and we hadn't sheared yet, so it seemed like a good day to get some of it done.  Besides, Hon was home, and I needed his help with the big girls.  I can wrestle smaller ewes just fine.  It's those older girls that give me a run for my money sometimes.
     I thought everything started out same 'ole same 'ole to the fur and feathers.  Then I went to the red barn and saw Dandy sitting in there on her own, which she doesn't do.  I said a big, "Uh-oh!"  Definitely needed to get her sheared first, I figured.  I didn't do anything out of the ordinary to raise sheep suspicions...until I closed the stall gate while the four older ewes were in there eating.  Then they knew there was definitely something up and they didn't want to be involved.  I told them my plan was to finish up chores, go in and eat breakfast, and then bring Hon out to help me get them trimmed up with Dandy being first on account of her looking from the back end like she was going to blow any time.
     I went inside, ate my scrumptious bowl of Lucky Charms (because I was in a hurry to get back out and, of course, they're magically delicious) and filled Hon in on my plans.  I had everything together for shearing, so we were ready to go.
     Well, let me tell you, Dandy must have understood every word I said, because when she turned around to give me the butt end of her thoughts on the matter, there was no question she was in labor.  I had Hon get a hold of her so I could give her a quick maternity cut and then we walked her over to the barn (that's the old barn, as opposed to the red barn) where a stall awaited her.  Now, for those of you don't know what the maternity cut is, that's where I take the hand shears (the non-electric old fashioned kind, because that's what I use) and trim up around her back end and udder.  I think some folks call it a "V" cut or something like that.  She was not happy in the least, but at least I knew the lambs could get to the goods, and that's what was important.
     After we got Dandy situated in the luxurious labor suite, we got a hold of Dahlia and started playing beauty parlor.  Now remember, I use the hand shears, so I don't do the best of jobs, but I get it done.  They might not be cut right down close to the skin, but I get close, and think I do a pretty good job considering.  If you want to see someone do some sheep shearing while sitting them on their behinds and flipping them around in a professional manner you'll need to go to our friend Neil's place.  Here, you get the economy show.
     Anyway, while we were taking care of Dahlia's cut and style, I asked Kid to check on Dandy and see how she was doing. He came back to tell me she had a moorit (that's brown) lamb.  Well lambination, that was quick!  We finished up with Dahlia and then I went over to look in on the new family.  Low and behold, I walked in on her birthing her second lamb, so she had twins.  That makes her first year with a single, and then last year and this year with twins.  Bravo Dandy!
     So, there you have it folks.  Lambing time has begun here with Dandy having the first set of twins for 2013...oh, and they're both ewes, unless I'm mistaken.  It's kind of hard to tell there in the dark, and with them being dark, as I follow them around on my hands and knees trying to see the parts, but I'm pretty positive they're girls.  Mama and babies are doing fantastic!  As for Dandy not getting her full shear, she thinks she's missed her appointment, but I've rescheduled her for a later date.  I mean...really...what does she think she's going to do to get out of it this time?  M

     I know, it's been entirely too long since I've told you a story.  I could give you plenty of excuses, but that's all they'd be.  Since my last story lots has happened...Hon took me to see Kid Rock in concert (woo~hoo), Eldest drove on the highway for the first time (a real white knuckling event), and spring has begun it's sprung.  But, what this story is about has nothing to do with any of that.  Kid and I are on a journey...one that will hopefully bring us the joys of chick-hood...we are incubating eggs.
     You see, years ago Hon bought me an incubator.  It was one of those foam-type ones.  We had one semi-successful hatch from it.  Then after that, no matter what I did with it, no matter what room I put it in, it gave us squat.  That incubator was cleaned and disinfected every time.  It was even given pep talks about what it should be producing.  Even with all that, it gave us weeks of waiting for what ended up being rotten stinky eggs.  I finally gave it a name... the death-a-bator.
     Lots of my poultry friends knew about the death-a-bator.  It looked like any other foam incubator, but looks were deceiving.  No matter where I put it - family room, dining room, cellar - the end result was never good.  About three years ago I started dropping hints that a new incubator would be a nice Christmas gift.  Then I'd hint at it being a good birthday gift.  After that I'd move into hinting about it being a good Mother's Day gift.  I even put a wishlist on the refrigerator and at the #1 spot was a new incubator.  After years of wanting...I decided it was time to start whining.  I don't particularly like whiners, and don't like being one, but I figured I was at that point.
     You see, last year after one last ditch effort with the death-a-bator, which resulted in a load of stinky eggs, no chicks, and a bit of a temper on my part - I picked it up and chucked it out the cellar door.  Kicked that sucker all the way to the garage, picked it's parts up, and dumped them in the garbage can.  That was the end of the death-a-bator.  Gosh, that felt good!  Problem was, I still didn't have a replacement, so it was time to commence phase whine.  I got quite good at it.  Even so, Christmas came and went with no incubator.
     In February I started conveniently leaving the internet on.  It was on a particular webpage for a company called Brinsea.  They sell incubators.  Then I mentioned to Hon if he bought one through a particular poultry website (Fresh Eggs Daily), he would even get a bit of a discount.  Cha-Ching!  Low and behold, he finally did it.  I knew he did before he told me (because I saw the confirmation email), but that's neither here nor there at this point.  On my birthday he told me that he had ordered it and it would be coming soon.  I wanted to camp out at the mailbox, but decided against it figuring they've seen enough of me in my nightgown and chicken rain boots, among other odd happenings.
     Yesterday Kid and I set our first bunch of eggs in it.  We're doing a "togetherness" hatch.  He's hatching out some of his Mille Fleur d'Uccle bantam eggs as part of his 4-H project for this year.  I'm hatching out some Java eggs from our friends at The River Walk Farm in Arizona.  So far, this Brinsea incubator is doing a primo job at holding a good temperature and humidity level.  That means on April 18...it takes 21 days for poultry eggs to hatch...we cross our fingers knock on all available wood...chicks will hatch.  It's exciting just thinking about it - and we still have 20 days to go.
     So, there you have it, folks.  A new incubator.  The prospect of actual eggs hatching out.  I think Hon's having nightmares of being overrun by chicks, turkey poults, and goslings...but he'll get over it.  I have yeeeears of incubating to catch up with.  This may just put another project on his list of things to do...  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 

     Today's the day...I'm 45.  I've been looking forward to this day for the past 364 days.  I don't see getting older as something to cry and moan about.  It's a day to celebrate the past year's accomplishments, no matter how big or small.  
     Of course, I do have to remember that I not only share this day with a bazillion other human beings on the planet, but also with three Japanese Bantam roosters on the farm - Sparky, Buddy, and No Name.  They're five, by the way.  They also had a celebratory feast of lettuce, carrots, and apples to share with their feathered friends this morning.
     Now, on to those bifocals.  A couple of weeks ago I decided to bite the bullet and make an appointment to get my eyes checked.  I figured it was a good idea, as it's been years since I've had that done...and I'm teaching Eldest how to drive.  Then there was that incident a few months ago where I was lost and couldn't read the map...oh, and when I had to ask Kid to read me a telephone number out of the phone book...  I just knew the doctor was going to tell me I needed focals - you know those bi or trifocals.  When she gave me the news, and my shoulders did a bit of a slump, she told me I was lucky because she needed them when she turned 40.  What she didn't know is I probably could have used them when I was 40, but hey, who am I to burst her bubble, you know?  
     I am now the happy owner of bifocal contacts.  It's a bit weird, and my eyes are trying to adjust, being as one contact is for seeing distance and one is for close up.  I've told Hon the only way to describe it is one eyeball focuses on the near or far of it all, while the other is just there - sort of along for the ride, but not doing much. He told me it's got to be messing with my brain, but I told him I'm re-training my brain to see things differently.  That sounds much better - more educated, I think.  I'm going to get myself a pair of glasses, too, because I still can't see real small print worth a lick, and had to ask the gal at Jo Ann Fabric to read the fine print of a coupon they had there this morning, but I can still read a book looking at the print upside down, and that's one of those things I like to be able to do when I'm reading a story to a group of kids.
     Tonight we'll celebrate my day with a stack of birthday pancakes complete with whipped cream and sprinkles - that's tradition.  Hon made me a chocolate cake yesterday (which we decided to dig into yesterday being as it's chocolate), but there's some left for us to enjoy today, too.  I'll cherish the cards I was given, along with the hugs and kisses, too.  
      So there you have it, folks.  My birthday...not to mention Buddy's, Sparky's, and No Name's birthday, too...oh, and the bifocals.  I think I'm going to sneak myself a piece of that chocolate cake...  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 
     

     Yesterday Kid and Young'un had the opportunity to participate with Boy Scout Troop 14 from Chillicothe in the annual First Aid Meet that was held over at OU-C (that's Ohio University - Chillicothe).  Kid as an administrator of  first aid with other boys from his Troop, and Young'un as the victim.  Poor Young'un.  All I asked was that they didn't kill him in the scenarios because I look forward to the hair raising experience of teaching him how to drive, like I'm doing with Eldest at the moment.  I was very proud of all the boys that participated.  They did a great job working together, which is uber important when you're in what can be a stressful think quick situation.  
     The Patrol Leaders started out reading the rules to their teams.  Young'un was relieved to hear there would be no actual mouth-to-mouth, and if CPR or anything of that nature was needed, the boys were to verbally state that they were doing it.  Then the teams were ready to show their stuff.  I have to say, the four first aid scenarios that Bill DeVelin, Troop 14's Scoutmaster, came up with were fantastic.  They gave the boys a good variety of situations to work together on.  I also think I've found a kindred spirit when it comes to making stuff up, too, as he found a bit of humor to throw in a couple of times.  Of course, if those particular events were real, I surely wouldn't have laughed, but in the controlled situation I just couldn't help myself.

     It's a rare occasion when I don't include a picture with a story, but I've decided to let you use your imagination on this one.  You see, being a farmer isn't always glamorous.  Sometimes it's a dirty job.  Case in point, this evening.
     There I was, out by the red barn doing chores, whistling away to California Dreaming by the Mamas & the Papas.  Nothing unusual.  I had just carried hay to the ewes, narrowly missing dumping it when I traversed the mud.  Okay, so it's not all mud.  I like my delusion of what is and is not in it - so for this story, it's just mud.   After I got the hay where it needed to be, I thought I did good because I didn't get stuck.  Next stop, the chicken coop.
     As I walked out of the ewes stall and into the mud, all seemed okay.  I did the normal walking routine -  you know, one foot in front of the other.  Problem was, when I put my right foot down my left foot should have been rising up into the air.  Instead, my left foot got stuck in the mud.  Then, ironically, my right foot also got stuck, so I was kind of in the motion of walking, but couldn't.  I lost my balance and started waving my arms around like an overgrown turkey trying to take flight to keep my balance.  That failed.  Next thing I knew I was screeching and going down on my side.  My feet were at an odd angle and were stuck inside my boots, which as you remember, were stuck in the mud.  
     After that, as I was wallering around in the mud like a hog, I had thought surely Young'un and Kid would have heard me (they were putting the turkeys in) and come over to help me out.  No one came.  That left me there on my own...stuck.  It's amazing how much mud (yes, it was all mud) a person can get up their jacket and in their pants as they're laying there, rolling back and forth, trying to get unstuck.  As the situation got dirtier, I decided maybe it was a good idea they didn't come at that point, because I figure one would have done a good show at "trying" to help me out while the other went for the camera.  
     I finally got a foot loose from my boot and there was only one place to put it.  I had only wished I didn't have my slipper socks on because up until this evening they were pink...and there's not much pink around here.  There was nothing I could do but stick my nice pink slipper sock in the mud (yes, that's all it was) and then start working on the other boot.  Since I could finally move a bit better the other foot came out easier, although that slipper sock had to also go for a dip.  At least once I got my feet out, I could finally stand up and begin tugging at my boots, which of course, held like they were glued to the ground until just the right amount of pressure was used on one and it sprang loose, flinging my backside back into the mud.  It was quite graceful, I'd like to think.  After that, the other boot came out a bit easier and it was back to finishing chores.  I still had no idea where Young'un and Kid went to.  I can tell you, there was no way my feet were going back in my boots.  I finished my chores in my used to be pink slipper socks with the animals looking at me like I had lost my mind.
     When I got in the house, the kids looked at me like...well, it's kind of hard to describe.  I said, "Young'un, didn't you hear me out there?"  To which he said, "Well, I heard you scream, but then Kid still needed my help with the turkeys..."  Then Eldest said, "Oh man, I wish I knew what happened so I could have gotten the camera."  It's nice to know their mother's welfare is first and foremost on their minds.
     So, there you have it folks.  No picture, but I figure I've given enough details for your imagination to run with it.  I suppose this gave me an excuse to clean up and put my pajamas on early.   My clothes are in the washer, but I suspect the slipper socks are not going to be what they were.  I think my hat is still out there....  Smiling & Waving, Sharon

     Today I had a blast!   And the great thing was I had a total blast here...at home... and it didn't involve shoveling poop, collecting eggs, or grooming a horse.  It did involve food, though, and you know how I like to eat.  You see, my friend, Angel, came over.  She's a fabulous crocheter and knitter.  That's cro-shay-er, by the way, not crotch-et-er.  I know someone that says they crotch-et.  I think it sounds like they have something amiss in their pants.  
     Anyway, Angel seems to get the knack of fiber arts stuff pretty easy and just flies with it.  She's shown me how to crochet a bit, and knit with two different strands of color, and she's only been knitting for around 6 months.  Lately she's started spinning fiber.  She has herself a spindle and has had the opportunity to use another ladies spinning wheel.  She seems to really enjoy the process of hunk of lose fiber to yarn.
     When I saw Angel last Tuesday at knitting class petting the yarn I had spun and was knitting with, I told her she should come over and get into some of the fiber I have around here.  There's no shortage of fiber colors, breeds, and textures.  She said she'd come over and help me card some fiber for me to spin.  Well, I had other plans.
     It's not often I get someone over here, let alone someone that shares some of the same interests (that doesn't involve various kinds of farm animal poop, lambing, or parasite control).  There's no way we were going to work on stuff for me.  We were going to work on stuff for her.  It was a fiber play date ~ woohoo!!