As you may have gathered from the vacation photos, we had a lovely and relaxing time at the beach. Dirty sheep, upcoming fairs, rainy days, muddy dogs... all were blissfully miles and miles from my mind.
As you may have gathered from my silence this week, I came home from vacation and landed straight into the proverbial frying pan. This is fair week in our town, a.k.a. hell week. I love fairs as much the next person, but they are a lot of work, even with my peripheral involvement on this one.
We organized our exhibit entries (flower arrangements, vegetables from the garden, potted plants, oatmeal raisin cookies, tomato sauce) on Tuesday.
I pulled an educational display, entitled "How does a sheep's wool get made into yarn?" and complete with illustrative photos, out of my rear end yesterday.
I still have a fleece show to organize. That is tomorrow's problem.
We also have seven disgustingly filthy sheep to get ready for the big livestock show on Saturday, but I have discovered one decided advantage of the boys getting older: they can do things for themselves now, as long as I just get out of their way. I can't help them today, even if I wanted to, because I am working in my LSH's office. All on their own, they have already wrestled their show sheep out of the field and into the barn. They dealt with an escapee lamb without me even knowing about the problem. They set up the fitting stands in the barn, organized their equipment, fixed the clippers and got down to work.
I just need to remind myself from time to time to give them the room to impress me with their skills -- as their favorite movie character, Napoleon Dynamite, would put it.
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