Shearing

Went up to Unadilla on Friday to watch sheep shearing...they shear late in the fall to make lambing season easier. Apparently the lambs can nurse better if the wool isn't so thick by spring. Poor, little, bald sheep were wandering around in snowflakes by the time afternoon rolled around, but they have a cozy barn to get out of the weather, so they'll be fine. The boys were fascinated, Eli especially, with the process. The machines and tools and technique, the funny, elfin, wool booties the professional shearers wear. Ira, in true Ira fashion, was just into the sheep. I've never really seen it done before, which struck me as strange...you'd have thought I'd have seen it at the Barreda's or someplace else, we know so many people with sheep, but nope, I haven't. Such an art to it. I found it lovely to watch, the way the wool peeled back perfectly, stroke after stroke, leaving shimmering, uniform stripes on the sheep's bodies. Reminded me of some graceful dance...the shearers even stretched and did yoga poses beforehand. In filthy work clothes. Very interesting, all of it. Would love to try it sometime.

Anyhow, today's a busy one. Sunday is obviously NOT the day of rest at my house, darn it. I wish. I'm writing in between four portrait sessions, and after they finish, I'm watching Av in exchange for Jen watching the boys right now, so she can do a massage, then scheduled to clean the school this evening, so it's a long day, work-wise. Helped John with a dinner party last night that went super late, all neat, fun people and I enjoyed it very much, but I'm feeling pretty exhausted at the moment. Wondering when I'm going to find my groove. Will I ever? IS there even a groove to find for someone in my situation? My brain repeats "WhatamIforgetting?WhatamIforgetting?WhatamIforgetting?" all day long, every day. Starting to get rather nerveracking. I keep telling myself: "Let it go." "One day at a time." "Breathe." and "You're going to be OK." My calming mantras. Hoping that helps a tiny bit at least. One of the women at dinner last night, Sidney, talked to me at length about her divorce and it was one of the hardest talks I've had yet, somehow. I've only meet her once or twice before, and here she was, crying, and so was I, and it was just sad and awkward and nice and awful. It was uncomfortable since she was a virtual stranger, and oddly comfortable for that very same reason. She had no judgements about us already. Huh. I don't know why I wrote about that. Just kinda tired and writing whatever pops into my head, I guess.

Well, that's all folks. Off I go to grin and shout "Say cheese!" for another hour. Over and out.