From another time

In the midst of an early spring dusk, the turkeys move slowly across the hill. It is easy to see the remnants of their dinosaur ancestors in their plodding steps.

Disappointed

While I am disappointed that the Massachusetts election went the way it did, I think I understand why it happened.

When Obama was elected president, I believed that we had created an opportunity to move away from politics as usual. But the actions of both parties, especially the democrats, didn’t reveal any changes. In fact, the outright cynicism reflected in their actions so aptly demonstrated by the deal making around the “health care” bill, only confirmed that nothing had changed.

Who are these people in our congress today? As a group they could not do the right thing due to fear of a republican filibuster? Let them filibuster. Let them show themselves for the obstructionist, negative, no new idea people that they are. Let them hold up the process. We have been without comprehensive health care until now. We can wait a little longer if that is what is necessary to get it right. They couldn’t do what was right for fear of not being reelected? Shame on them.

I think that how I am feeling, disenchanted, disheartened, and disenfranchised, is how many people are feeling right now. There isn’t much to feel positive about and our powers that be, unfortunately including the president, appear to be completely disconnected from reality. It seems that who they are and what they are doing has nothing to do with life as the rest of us are experiencing it. I think people who feel like me walked away from the process today. I don't approve, but I understand.

While I remain an optimist and an eternal Pollyanna, I fear that we will go through some dark times before things take a turn for the better. Perhaps this is something we need to do to mature more as a nation. I still believe there are people ready to serve who are creative, honorable, smart and courageous. How they will reveal themselves remains a mystery but I am hopeful.

What?

Heard this morning on NPR:

Citibank, which has had some struggles, is doing better now by borrowing money from the government at 0% and then loaning that money back to the government at 3% as treasuries.

Either the government is not too bright, or I am really dumb, because this makes no sense to me, but at a minimum, I’ll take some of that 0% loan action, please.

Using someone else's bootstraps

I was checking my credit card online last night and saw a strange charge for $170+ dollars from the Encyclopedia Britannica online. Hmmmm. I hadn’t purchased anything and apparently Albert hadn’t either.

A call to the credit card company (Bank of America) wasn’t helpful. The fraud department wasn’t there on a Sunday night.

This morning there was a second charge to Encyclopedia Britannica for ~$70, as well as an email from B of A and an automated phone call telling me there was a problem with my account and that they were freezing it. It’s gratifying to know that they are on top of things. Unfortunately for me, I’ll have to do a little financial housecleaning to straighten up this little mess.

Several months ago I had a charge on the card from someone purchasing a textbook from Barnes and Noble online which was shipped to Utah to the tune of $150. Now these charges for some kind of research materials.

I am a person who is strongly in support of formal education to improve oneself. But doing it by stealing someone else’s credit card information just seems wrong somehow. Perhaps I am being close-minded?

I am so curious to know what the textbook was (they wouldn’t tell me) or exactly what the research materials are (they won’t tell me that either). I do hope that the person making these purchases chooses a better path to higher learning. Perhaps they will have the opportunity to access the library at the jail until then?

Muffin's Not So Great Adventure

Albert very nicely went out alone to clean up the sheep pen yesterday. With this crazy weather, their enclosure is quite muddy and not very pleasant for any of us.

Hands full of the various tools he might need, Albert was over-encumbered when he attempted to open the gate. (Stud)Muffin, our ram, was there to greet him, and took the opportunity to slip past Albert and out into the wild world.

From inside the house I faintly heard, “Leeesannnne.” Through the window I saw Albert in the sheep pen with all his tools and surrounded by inquisitive sheep, and Muffin, outside the pen head-up and trotting to and fro, exploring his newly found freedom.

I hastily put on my sheep shoes, grabbed my jacket and went outside.

“Muffin, what are you doing, sweet boy?” I calmly asked as I walked between him and the gate. When the sheep are separated from one another, or when they are in new surroundings, even the most docile of them can become dangerous if only due to their size.

Even though Muffin was clearly interested in exploring, he is bonded with me, and came towards me and the gate as I spoke to him. We reached the gate at the same time, Albert opened it enough to get Muffin’s head inside, and we gently pushed him the rest of the way in. Order restored.

I share this story because for us it is another example of how we are learning to work with the sheep, and to work with each other. After almost 22 years as a couple, you would think that it would be second nature, working together, but what we are doing now is so very different from our life “before,” that we have to learn whole new ways of dealing with things. It is sometimes painful, sometimes funny, and always rewarding when we get it right.

Now if we could just get the sheep to poo in one spot.

Note to self

Microfleece and farming don't mix. The hay never comes out.

I’m Not a Cattle

I ran across this little piece that I never posted to the blog. It goes back to 2008, when the sheep were lambs, and we only had Forrest to care for...

Today was Forrest’s first day to be alone outside in his fancy garage enclosure. We arranged a cattle panel in front of the garage doors which makes an area for him to come outside, but have the ability to retreat inside if he wants.

A little before it was time to take George the cat to the vets, I placed Forrest in his enclosure, and he readily settled down in the warm sun in the doorway. Good, I thought. This is going to work out perfectly. Assured that he was safe and sound, George and I drove away.

About an hour and a half later we returned, and I looked into the garage as I drove up. Hmm, where was Forrest? Perhaps he was hiding behind the door? Something to the right caught my eye, and there was the little darling curled up on the back doorstep. He jumped up right away and came down to the car.

Baaaa ba baaa, said he, which I interpreted to mean, hey, I’m not a cattle, I’m a sheep. If you want me to stay in there, you are going to have to treat me as the superior critter I am.

Sixteen feet of two by four wire later, his cattle panel has been converted to a lamb panel.

Sorry, Forrest. No disrespect intended.