We decided it was a good day to have breakfast for dinner.  Nothing out of the ordinary around here...except for letting Kid make his pancakes, because he put a bazillion chocolate chips in them.  I should have know better than to relinquish my pancake making rights.  But, that's a story for another time.  
     As I was sitting at the table, eating my delicious pancakes, sharing in good conversation with Eldest and Kid, I noticed a squirrel running through the yard.  Again, nothing out of the ordinary.  I said, "Ohhhhh, look at that cute squirrel!"  To which Eldest replied, "So what, it's a squirrel."  I ignored his less than enthusiastic response since he's a teenager and, well, he's a teenager.
     As I happily ate my pancakes while watching the squirrel, it suddenly ran up into the apple tree.  "Awwww, look...now it's in the apple tree," I said, which Eldest responded with, "So what, there's squirrels in all the trees."  Again, I ignored his less than jovial response.  However, Kid came to my defense and told him he's wrong, that there aren't squirrels in all the trees.  (I also figure he said that just to get on Eldest's nerves, but again, that's another story.)
     The next thing I knew, that squirrel looked like it picked an apple from the tree.  Surely my eyes were playing tricks on me.  Squirrels don't eat apples!  I said to the kids, "There's no way that squirrel just picked an apple, right?  Tell me, that squirrel did not just pick an apple!"  To which eldest replied, "Mom, squirrels eat apples."  My response, "No way, squirrels eat nuts. Not apples."  I was aghast at the thought of all the squirrels in the area (and there's a bunch of them) eating apples from the tree.  Gesh, I've made two pies out of them so far, and felt lucky at that, because you might not know it, but sheep like apples...and their leaves.  Ever seen a sheep trying to eat an apple? Not a pretty sight.
     Anyway, I'm getting off track.  I just couldn't believe a cute fuzzy squirrel went and picked a juicy red apple right off the tree, let alone sat there and ate it in front of us.  Well, I marched myself right out there and told that squirrel that it's sorely mistaken, that they don't eat apples.  I pointed out the butternut tree conveniently located right next to said apple tree, and told him (I'm guessing it's a him due to the situation) to move on over there.  That tree is loaded with nuts just waiting to be picked off by squirrels looking to stock up for the winter.  The squirrels of the area had no qualms over divesting our black walnut tree of it's nuts in a matter of days not too long ago, anyway.  I think it's just rude to start in on the apples when there are plenty of nuts to be found...a much more suitable diet for a squirrel in my humble opinion.

     is in the farmer's field next door.  After a day of rain on and rain off, it was time to get out and do chores during a rain off period.  As Young'un and I walked out the door we saw a double rainbow.  One of the rainbows was faded and very hard to see, but the other was the biggest and brightest ever.  It was stunning.
     I know you're thinking so what, I've seen a bazillion rainbows before.  I would have thought the same thing, but this was special.  It had an honest to goodness end.  For years every time we've seen a rainbow, we've never seen that part.  It always disappears waaaaaaay over there, obscured by trees, or a hill.  You know what I mean.
     When we looked over and saw that rainbow in the field next door I thought Young'un's chin was going to hit the ground.  Of course, mine was already on the ground and my tongue was lolling around due to the incredible sight, but don't worry, there's not a picture of that.  The first thing that came to my mind was...GOLD!  Oh my goodness, I could just imagine the leprechaun sitting beside that tree with a big old pot filled to the rim with all that loot.  
     I quick like lightning ran in the house and got the camera to take some pictures.  This was a definite Kodak moment.  Then it dawned on us.  Ahhhhhhhhh!  We had to get to the end before it was gone or the gold would be gone, too!!  We went into super human bionic quick like lightning speed and tried to get to the tree before the rainbow was gone...but...then it...started to fade...quickly.  Before we knew it, it was gone.  That rascally leprechaun beat us.  The gold was gone, all tucked away in his super secret hidey hole until it was time to take it out and polish it up another day.  I held my arm up, made a fist, and shook it at the tree saying, "You wily old leprechaun...we'll get you some day!"  After that, I'm telling you, in the wind we heard him laughing.
     So, there you have it folks.  The end of the rainbow.  Our farmer neighbor sure is lucky to have a rainbow that ends in his field.  We've now begun researching leprechaun traps.  Thank goodness for internet searches.  Some day, if that rainbow ever shows up like that again, we'll be ready...oh yes, we'll be ready!  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 
     

     I know...you're amazed...stunned...awestruck!  I think time really does seem to go by faster as we get older.  I mean, here we are, celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary today and I'm still feeling like a newlywed.  Awwww, don't worry, I'm not going to get all sappy and teary eyed on you.  I don't think anyway.  I never know where these stories are going to take me.
     Hon and I met at college in February 1987.  Yes, I remember that.  I was pledging the Sigma Pi Little Sisters at the time, and he was pledge master of Sigma Pi Fraternity.  I won't go into the pledging activities because yes, that is back in the day when there was still hazing.  Anyway, I'll never forget the first time I saw him...across the courtyard at college...he was walking up one way as I was walking down the other.  He also was on crutches because he had broken his foot.  I swear the clouds broke, sparkly things danced in the sunlit halo around his head, and neon signs pointed him out that said, "He's the one!"  Really.  I kid you not.
     After that I was smitten...and I hadn't even actually talked to him yet.  Not even that person who was sending me anonymous sappy messages through the college radio station could affect my googly eyes at my future husband (whether he knew it yet or not).  I would have given up being our college mascot (yes, I really was, but it was a secret) for the chance to talk with him.  Then I found out I'd be seeing him a lot being as he was in the fraternity I was pledging.  He became not only my pledge master and person I wanted to hurt due to the stupid backward junk we had to do, but my science tutor, and best friend.  One person told me Hon must be serious about me because he let me drive his car to get coffee, and he never let anyone drive his car.  
     Our first date was in April 1987 on Easter weekend.  We went camping.  All. By. Ourselves. In one little tent.  Shhhhh, don't tell my folks about that part.  We not only went camping, but we got lost in the woods and had to spend the night freezing our bahookies off laying in the leaves and dirt, waiting for sunlight, because there wasn't even a moon out to see by.  Thank goodness we walked down the right side of the hill, or we'd still be stuck walking around who knows where in West Virginia.  Some might think that first date experience to be a relationship breaker, but obviously not us.  
     Hmmmm, let's see...Hon proposed to me on December 31, 1987...or it could have been January 1, 1988...I'm not sure.  It's a bit fuzzy on account of the surprise of my life he had just given me and all the kissing.  Then I went into wedding mode.  I know, you don't believe it, and you're right.  I waited until my spring break from college to do any planning and during that week I got it all together - date, dress, food...everything.  I can't obsess about something like that for months.  
     My folks had the idea that the brides side pays for certain things, and the grooms side pays for certain things. One of those ideas was that the groom was to pay for the flowers and alcohol.  Well, truth be told, if Hon paid for the alcohol and the flowers, we wouldn't even have gone on the little honeymoon we did go on.  We rented a cabin on Thousand Island Lake in the upper peninsula of Michigan, by the way.  So, here we go...Ma, I paid for the flowers and the alcohol.  Yup, that's right.  Ahhhh, such a relief to finally fess up on account of me keeping that secret for the past 25 years.  Remember how I worked at that cemetery planting and watering flowers?  Well, I did that to pay for those things.  Turned out pretty nice considering I had just over a month to earn enough money since I had to get those wisdom teeth out, too.
     I could go on and on about the past 25 years of our life together, but that would fill a library, so I'll now give a verbal montage of where we lived.  We've moved a lot, and sometimes didn't stay  long.  We've lived in (West Virginia) Salem at college and at the Doc's little place, then another place in Salem, an apartment in Clarksburg, back to Salem, and two streets up in Salem.  We lived in Hillsville and then Independence, Virginia.  After that we moved back up to West Virginia and lived in Belington, Elkins, Buckhannon, and Arthurdale.  From there we moved to North Carolina and spent time in Tarboro and Greenville, where we had our first son, Eldest.  Then we lived in another home in Greenville while waiting for Kid to be born.  From there we moved to Virginia (again) and lived with Hon's folks while we waited for our home to be finished in Max Meadows.  While in Max Meadows we brought Young'un into the world.  From there we found ourselves moving to Chillicothe, Ohio and now where we are currently living, in Frankfort.  I know there's a few more places in there, but after 25 years it's getting a bit hazy.  
     You know folks, we've had our ups, we have had our downs.  Our joys and our sorrows.  One thing I can truly tell you through all of it, though, is I knew the day I saw Hon across the courtyard at college he was the one.   My honest to goodness soul mate.  I don't know how or why I knew...I just did.  So many folks these days just don't seem to stick it out, working through the challenges, along with reveling in the good times.  Others don't even bother to get married any more.  Call me old fashioned.  I just don't understand.  I am happy to be part of a family that sticks and will do anything it takes to continue sticking.  I love my husband.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon

     To you, my Hon, the love of my life...three wonderful sons, many homes, countless dogs and cats, lizards, fish, horses, sheep, chickens, turkeys, geese, and memories of all kinds to fill the library of my mind...you are my sun, my moon, my stars, and my world.  You are the one that keeps me balanced, you are my voice of reason.  I am so happy we chose each other in front of friends and family all those years ago in that little non-air conditioned church in Rochester, Michigan, despite the 107 degree heat.  I look forward to our future together and all that comes with it.  Bring. It. On.  Love, Me.

     There's a skunk out there...somewhere...but it can't be far.  I've heard that their nasty stink can travel quite a long ways, but judging from the odoriferous odor permeating the air, it can't be far.  In fact, the smell was so strong during the wee hours, that I truly believe it was nestled down in the covers at the foot of our bed.
     We've come up on just after 7:00 a.m. and the smell is still here...in the house...in the yard...and I swear in my hair.  My taste buds must be wonky because when I drank my coffee the wonderful aroma wasn't there, having been replaced by o du skunk.  
     This smell that easily triggers my gag reflex isn't a problem for Hon.  He actually likes the smell.  Yes, it's true.  While I'm sputtering and trying to take short little breaths, just enough for survival, he's taking deep breaths, inhaling all the skunkiness.  I was hoping he'd inhale enough for it to disappear, taking it with him to work, but no such luck.  I will now brave the great outdoors...venture out into the land of skunk...to greet the animals and get them ready for their day.  I will not come upon the skunk.  The sun is up, it is nestled in it's lair somewhere, and the wonderful breeze will take the odor far far away.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon

*The skunk up there in the picture is not the culprit, although I'm sure they both smell the same.

     I never thought I'd see it come to pass.  Hon got zapped by the electric fence.  Don't get me wrong, I'd never wish it on anyone, but it was actually kind of nice to see someone else get it this time.  He said it's happened before, but I'm skeptical.
      This evening we went out to take care of chores and give a few of the lambs their nightly bottle.  When we were finished Hon opened the fence for me, I walked through, and he said he would close up the gate. What he didn't notice (and no, I didn't notice it either) was that one end of the chain had fallen onto one of the electric strands.  Hon grabbed the chain, there was a big 'ole popping sound, a spark, and Hon went sailing backward.  Because I'm such a quick thinker, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, "Woah, that's gotta hurt!" To which he replied, "No s**t!  You think?!"  I can't help it.  I laughed.  When the tears started rolling down my cheeks I told him it was because I could feel his pain, but he didn't believe me.  He did, however, tell me that he didn't think it would hurt that bad, and that he felt it all the way down into his knees.  
     Because I felt bad about the giggles over his tangle with the fence, I said I'd get a stick and move the chain off the wire, but he said he'd do it.  My hero!  When he got a stick and moved the chain off the wire, the whole chain came off and fell onto it.  There was quite a display of orange and yellow fireworks, along with the sound of fire crackers popping over and over.  At that point I told him there's no way I'm getting that off.  Safety first, you know.  The good thing is after a few more attempts, and dropping it down onto the lower electric strand, the chain eventually made its way to the ground.  As I write this I wonder why neither of us thought to go unplug the thing.  Hmmmmmmm..
     I would like to admit I was in no way unscathed from the fence this week.  I, too, got zapped right in the behind a few days ago.  Hon had put up the temporary electric fence in the yard and put the strands awful close to my herb garden.  I was out there with Young'un pulling weeds, bent my behind too close to the fence, and got a big jolt that had me tripping over the little decorative fencing around the herb garden.  I figure having just sat down in the wet grass didn't help the situation, and that bit of moisture really helped conduct the electricity.  Instead of laughing, though, Young'un made sure I was okay and said he was sorry that happened.  He must have gotten his maturity from Hon.
     So, there you have it, folks.  I finally witnessed someone else getting zapped by the electric fence...and it didn't take paying a kid $5 to test it, either.  No, don't ask.  That's a whole other story.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon

     I thought I was going to tell you about the sour cherries I picked today, but instead I'm going to let you look at the luscious, yet somewhat blurry picture of them.  I was quite proud of myself getting up on that ladder despite my fear of falling, too, by the way.  Instead, I'm going to tell you about being a responsible pet owner.  Don't worry, I'm not going to get up on my soap box about it.  Well, I'll get up on it just long enough to get a leg up to reach my high horse, anyway.
     Here's the thing.  About two weeks ago some folks nearby sold their sheep.  That wasn't the problem.  The problem is that they took the sheep to their new home and left the guard dog, figuring they'd come back later for it, even though the sheep are the only family that dog has known.  Rightly so, the dog was upset.  The bigger problem with the situation was that the dog was social with the sheep, but not it's caretakers, so it wouldn't come up to them no matter what.  
     Where do you think the dog went after it's family went missing?  You got it.  Our place.  We first spotted the dog going in the barn, running out with Moe and Alice hot on her heels a good week ago.  Alice is sitting on her nest of soon to be goslings, so they weren't about to stand for an unfamiliar dog converging on their barn.   This happened repeatedly.
     Because the dog immediately ran off as soon as it saw us, I called the Ross County Dog Warden's office for help.  Matt, from the Dog Warden's office, came over and put out the biggest have-a-heart-type trap I've ever seen and baited it with some dog food in hopes the dog would get trapped and they could figure out if it had a home or not.  At the beginning, we didn't know if it was a stray or not, by the way.
     After a few days of feeding raccoons, opossums, and stray cats, not to mention something subsequently being lured to the area and burrowing into Eldest's pigeon coop for a midnight bird snack, the dog still eluded the trap.  At least the Dog Warden's office was able to find the dog's owners.  That's how we found out why the dog was out galavanting around, by the way.  
     Yesterday I called the Dog Warden again, letting them know that the dog was still roaming.  I had met the dog's owners when they came over earlier this week with Matt and company, and they had said at that time they had a dart they could use to shoot it, so it would fall asleep, they could catch it, and take it to it's new home.  I thought that was going to be the solution.  Obviously, the wiley dog outsmarted them.  
     This morning when I went out to check on the sheep, I saw Matt's truck in the driveway and him down at the corner of the pasture.  He said he was able to dart the dog, but it ran over that way on the other side of the fence, and he was going to go in and find it.  He also said the dog would only be out for 15 - 20 minutes, so time was ticking.  If I hadn't been in my shorts and boots I'd have jumped in with him to look, but I did, and he was in not only up to my neck in weeds and stuff, but a bounty of poison ivy.  Makes me itch just thinking about it.
     When Matt came back and couldn't find the dog, I told him I'd go change into more appropriate clothes to battle poison ivy, ticks, chiggers, and *shudder* snakes in behind the pasture to try and be some help.  As he went down the road to come in from the other direction, I went back to the fence, climbed up on the top, held my nose, and jumped in.  Then I started swimming through the creepy crawlies, poison ivy, and couldn't help but think about *shudder* snakes.  Thank goodness I didn't see one, but it was so wildly grown up, I'm sure they were in there.
     After about 1 1/2 hrs I ironically had to start baking the dog biscuits for tomorrow's Farmer's Market, so it was up to Matt.  He had the dart gun anyway, and I was only armed with my cell phone and a leash.  I had no idea where he was in the thick of it anymore, and could only hope he wasn't being held down by snakes while mondo sized grasshoppers beat him with poison ivy.
     Then it happened.  A miracle.  One of the other men from the Dog Warden's office came knocking and said they finally got the dog, that it was on it's way to the owner's home, and they would present them with not only their dog, but more than likely a fine to go with it.  I am so happy the Ross County Dog Warden's office was able to catch the dog and get it back to it's owners!  
     You know, what it comes down to is being a responsible pet owner.  It's not the dog's fault it's completely unsocialized when it comes to anything but sheep.  It's like the dog was plunked down with the flock when it was a puppy, and was taken care of from a distance with food and water left for it, but no human interaction.  I don't pretend to be a perfect pet owner, especially since our dogs go completely nuts when anyone comes over or knocks on the door, but I do make sure to keep them in check.  I also know that if they went missing I'd do anything I could to find them, and if I knew where they were, and couldn't get them myself, I'd ask the Dog Warden's office for help.  Not leave them to roam for weeks, while leaving food and water in hopes of eventually catching them.  Dog Warden's of the world are here to help us, folks, even if it's to get our own pets that have gone off.

     This afternoon was one of those lovely days I decided to take advantage of by working on a knitting project outside.  I'm working on this lovely shawl using Malabrigo sock yarn in Caribeno, which is shades of blue, for the mitered diamond pattern on top, and Misti Alpaca in another shade of blue for the bottom part.  I'm going with my friend, Angel, to Knitting Temptations in Dublin the end of the month for a Malabrigo yarn trunk show and am hoping to get it finished so I can wear it when we go.  At least, I'm hoping to have it finished by then.  
     Like many times before, I decided to sit out in the pasture with the animals and enjoy the shade, while watching the lambs jump and play.  They are so fun to watch when they're tiny.  I got my folding chair, sat it under a tree, plunked my rear in it, took out my knitting, and began.  Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary.
     About 45 minutes into my enjoyment, Tucker, our American Saddlebred, stopped munching grass, stood up real tall, and looked at me.  Both ears were perked up and he started making snorty sounds.  I couldn't figure out what had him so weirded out, and went back to knitting.  Tucker, however, didn't go back to eating.  Instead he walked up to me to check out what I was doing.  He put his snout right in my knitting and took a big snuffly sniff.  He did this several times and each time I'd tell him to back up, which he did.  He would wander away and back again like he was checking on my progress.  
     After a bit I saw that Josie, our eldest Icelandic sheep, was looking like she wanted water, so I went to get her some.  Next thing I knew, Tucker went whizzing by me and something soft hit me in the back of the head.  At first it hadn't registered what he had, and I was trying to figure out what could have hit me.  Then I snapped out of it.  He had my partially knitted shawl in his mouth, knitting needles dangling out the sides, and the ball of yarn trailing behind him - that, by the way is what got me in the head.  I'm not sure he reminded me more of a gigantic happy puppy with a new toy, or a enormous cat with a ball of yarn.  I suppose that didn't really matter, because he was ripping through the field, jumping and kicking...with my yarn...unraveling in the dirt...the weeds...the grass...and yes, other stuff out in the field that I will not mention by name and pretend is also dirt.
     There I was, chasing after Tucker, yelling, "Drop that yarn, Tucker, Malabrigo is expensive!"  Gesh!  Does he not know that one 440 yard ball of yarn he was trailing through the pasture not only cost me $18.99, but is also superwash Merino wool that was kettle dyed and from Uruguay???  I swear my heart still starts fluttering when I think about it.  I also think I'm going to have flashbacks of the episode for weeks.  
     After Tucker had his fun, he dropped my knitting like a toddler with a toy that's guaranteed to give him hours of fun, and went back to eating.  Figures.  I was left with the aftermath.  Do you have any idea what Malabrigo yarn looks like after it's been slung around a field?  How about a partially knitted shawl that's been in a drooly horse mouth?  I gotta tell ya, it ain't pretty.  I picked off all the dirt that was pickable, wound it in a ball, and figured the best thing to do would be to wash it after I'm finished knitting the mitered portion of it that uses the Malabrigo yarn.  Eventually the spit will dry.
     After my knitting was cleaned up as best I could, I decided to go back to the house and get a plastic sandwich bag to put the dirty wet yarn ball in so I didn't have to touch it more than necessary.  It was bad enough holding the spit filled partially knitted shawl.  Not thinking about it, still in a daze from the ordeal, I left the yarn on my chair.  When I got back, there was Tucker...nose all up in my knitting again.  He kept at it, sticking his nose where it didn't belong, snuffling up all that Malabrigo goodness.  When he wouldn't let up, even when it was in my lap in the plastic bag, which was fogging up due to all the wet yarn in the bag, I decided to give up.  I'll work on the shawl another day after it dries...and not out in pasture.
     So, there you have it folks.  A true story.  Really.  I swear I don't make this stuff up.  At least this time Hon was home and can bear witness to my ordeal.  Smiling & Waving, Sharon 
     

     Do you ever feel like your trying to accomplish something and for some reason the universe just doesn't want you to do it?  That's where I'm at with my herb garden.  For several years I've talked about putting a herb garden in a particular spot by the kitchen.  What I've wanted to put in it has gone from culinary herbs to a dyer's garden to what I'm now trying to accomplish - a medicinal herb garden...but the main thing is I want the garden...right...there.  
     I decided a few months ago to really get down to business with the project.  This year is the year.  I chose a good layout, scoured books and the internet for info on different types of medicinal herbs, and have even been taking an on-line class about them.
     At the beginning of the month Hon got the big tiller out and tilled up the area.  Then I began the tedious job of raking out grass and weeds, laying down old brick from around here to outline it, and make a walkway through the middle. Then the rain came and I had to work around that.  Even so, I was slowly making progress.
     Last week I got one half of it ready for planting and added seeds.  It was a wonderful feeling...until the turkeys noticed it.  Next thing I knew there were turkey butt prints in the dirt from where they had taken a dust bath or ten.  It wasn't just one turkey.  It was Buddy, Potsy, and their eight little turkey poults.  The little ones didn't do too much damage, but Buddy and Potsy made sure to scatter any seeds I had planted.  It was pandemonium.  Needless to say, none of those seeds have sprouted...but the weeds are doing quite well.
     I've been periodically chasing the turkeys out of my garden, and Hon said he was going to put a little fence up to keep them out.  I thought that settled the matter.  Then today came another problem.  See that picture up there in the corner?  Yup, that's right.  Bees.  Lots and lots of bees.  There's this nice little apple tree right next to my herb garden.  It has delicious apples, by the way.  It's now the home to a bazillion bees.  They weren't there yesterday.  Eldest had seen them in the woods.  They must have decided they didn't like their previous location.
     Earlier this morning they were checking out our chimney.  I wasn't worried about it because we've had bees check it out and then move on.  No big deal.  Well, after deciding the chimney wasn't a good place, they moved on, but not far enough.  Now, I'm not a bee expert, and I don't even know what kind they are, but in  Winnie the Pooh the bees were always in a tree...not hanging off a branch in a big chaotic mass.  We had a bunch of bees up in one of the big Silver Maples last year, but they were up high in the tree, and never a bother.  These, on the other hand, are a problem.  Even Buddy the turkey decided it wasn't worth trying to sit under the apple tree today.

     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