It's official. I am fried. And it's only the middle bit of my week from you-know-where.
This is my second (out of three) night of work.
I am helping to host a church function on Friday. Don't get me started on that one, because I will go on and on and on in a more or less non-stop rant, as my mom will attest. But I freely admit that it is all my own fault for being guilted into helping.
Our annual shearing day is on Saturday morning, starting at 8 am. I cannot think about the completely unprepared state of the barn. Or all the sheep coats that have giant holes in them and so are not ready to go onto freshly-sheared backs. And the rain forecast for tomorrow.*
We serve lunch to everyone who helps with the sheep shearing. This year, I have deliberately kept a lid on things, and we are only expecting about 15 people. But still. 15 people. (ETA: I have no idea how we would make it through sheep shearing without all the help they provide, so believe me, I am happy to feed them at the end of it all! It's just a matter of pulling it all together.)
We have a family get-together on Saturday evening, at my house, for my dad's 70th birthday (we can't keep it a surprise any longer, Dad -- happy pre-birthday!) My entire family will be enjoying a deluxe meal, cooked by my brothers,* and then everyone is sleeping over to keep the roads safe.
And then I have to go to work on Sunday, all day. Four high-school girls in a row. I should be well and truly catatonic by the last lucky one.
So please forgive the lack of post. I will try to take pictures on Saturday, but I've had limited success in past years because the day is So. Darn. Busy.
I'll see you on the other side.
* Wet sheep cannot be easily sheared. Let's all hope for sunshine and a breeze on Friday, because I failed to get them into the barn tonight.
** I completely missed out on the gourmand gene in my family -- I would have no problem eating cereal for dinner for the rest of my life. My brothers, knowing my limitations, have assigned me the task of getting wine, and providing the lemon sorbet and unlimited use of the kitchen. Wise men.