Photo Shoot

I've been busy getting ready to head to our home in Herring Neck, Newfoundland (just one more sleep!) so I haven't had time to be creating anything.

I did get a chance to play with one of my major passions - photography. I took photos of my great niece. It's the first portrait style pictures I've taken & I had to improvise with a table cloth for a background and two desk lamps for lighting. A five month old is a pretty easy subject - especially one as sweet and photogenic as Ashlyn.

Cats

We weren't sure if Simon was being maternal or trying to take the puppies for the 'long walk'.

She's a typical cat - she thinks that everyone should look up to her.

I don't recall ever being without a cat in my childhood & for only a wee short time in our married life. Brian grew up thinking that cats did NOT belong in a house - all theirs lived in the barn. As much as he loves cats, I couldn't convince him otherwise. I went away for a week & he missed me so much, that he got me a little kitten from the Humane Society. We had Rocky for 20 years. She patiently survived four children and watched all kinds of other critters come and go.

The cat we have now, 'Simon', has been with us for about 8 years. She's a sweet cat - she follows me everywhere. Simon has a secret life. She keeps a 'man' tucked away in the haymow. We've caught sight of him numerous times - the back end of him dashing for cover. We're not sure what he eats - but he's fat and healthy. I think she invites him up to the porch for a late night snack.

The cats in this edition of 'Prayers from the Ark' - 'The Prayer of the Cat', is Simon and her mysterious friend - and two little kittens.

Goatless in Avonbank

The Sister, our last goat, just a couple weeks ago.

Betsy, dealing with her 'Little Goat Syndrome' resourcefully.

'The Sister', our last geriatric old goat has passed away, leaving us goatless for the first time in 22 years. It's strange to look out the window and see no goat wandering around - always on the wrong side of the fence. So often we'd have people who were driving by, stop in to say 'Your goats are out'. We'd say, 'Thanks, but they live out'. They'd say 'Don't they run away?' Really, where would they go - and why would they go? They had already escaped.

Ashley was our Heidi - they were technically her goats. She got Joseph when he was 3 days old & she got up every three hours to feed him. He lived in the house until he outgrew Pampers. It was hard to convince her when it was time for him to move to the barn. Sadly, he had an accident shortly after that - a huge heartbreak for a loving little girl.

When Emma arrived, again just days old, Brian was so paranoid about Ashley having to go through that again, he wouldn't leave Emma alone. When Ash was at school, Emma went everywhere he went. I would go to the bank or the post office and people would ask 'How's Emma?' On one excursion, Brian picked up a hitch hiker. When he got out, he said 'Thanks man - but I gotta tell ya - that's the ugliest dog I've ever seen.' Another time, he brought Emma to visit us at the lake - her sitting right beside him in the seat of the little Spitfire. Everywhere we went, people would gather - even the chef came out of the restaurant to see her. One lady called to her children 'Come look at the little reindeer'. Another said 'What other kind of exotic animals do you have?' Being Sorta-Farmers, we didn't exactly consider goats exotic. Our son, who was 15 at the time, decided that a goat was a far bigger 'babe magnet' than any fancy car or motorcycle and borrowed her to 'troll the beach'.

Emma went everywhere. She was at church a number of times - which was appropriate as Ashley, when she was little, insisted that they were saying 'In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Goat'. One of the favourite images that I carry is of Emma on Christmas Eve. Our very creative pastor made up a story for the children of how there really was a goat in the nativity - so he borrowed Emma. At the end of the service, they turn off all the lights and sing 'Silent Night' by candle light. It is so beautifully peaceful and moving. Amidst 350 people, Emma went to the middle of the aisle and laid down, as if on cue. When the lights came on and everyone was leaving, she wasn't going to be disturbed from her zone. She laid there, calmly chewing on some imaginary cud, while everyone had to walk around her.

Emma, even after supposedly moving to the barn, believed that she was a House Goat. I would come in the house to find her laying on the couch, watching TV. She'd go to the bread basket and help herself. I'd say to Ashley 'Do you know how much it bugs me to have that goat in the house' and she'd answer 'Do you know how much it bugs me to have her in the barn?' Stalemate. Brian was on her side.

It's going to be very strange this year to be able to put geraniums any where I want, instead of only in pots that I hung from the clothes line every night. Geraniums to a goat are like a red cloth to a bull. My flower beds have always been sadly lacking, but we certainly have collected a far greater wealth of stories from the goats than we ever could have from plants.

Goat Moments

Ashley in love with goats at three years old - with our first goat, Walter and later with her best friend - Joseph, her 'Amazing Dream Goat'.

Ash & Abby & Emma enjoying a summer afternoon.

Emma at the beach.

Ashley & Emma cuddling

Both growing up, but STILL cuddling...

Joseph in his newborn diapers

The Prayer of the Goat by Carmen Bernos De Gasztold

Lord,

Let me live as I will!

I need a litte wild freedom,

a little giddiness of heart.

The strange taste of unknown flowers.

For whom else are your mountains?

Your snow wind? These springs?

The sheep do not understand.

They graze and graze.

All of them, and all in the same direction.

And then eternally chew the cud of their insipid routine.

But I - I love to bound to the heart of all your marvels.

Leap your chasms, and, my mouth filled with intoxicating grasses,

Quiver with an adventurer's delight

On the summit of the world!

Amen

Spelling on Ebay

Lauren loves to play with the needle felted animals when she comes over. She's got a whole Ark full, but she's always interested in the new ones that are being born. I say 'Sorry, I'm doing that one to sell on Ebay, so we can't play with it.'

Last week she was over & played with the Noah's Ark. A few days later, Jaime found a skunk in her washing machine, which must have got caught in Lauren's clothes. She set it out to bring back on their next visit. Later, Lauren found it and came running to her Mom with it, saying: 'Look Mom! Nan spelled this on Ebay and it came to OUR house!'

At four years old, she probably knows more about Ebay than most children. Last year, she and Scotty wanted to 'help' me when I was making eggs for my Easter creations. I let them each paint one, which I put in the piece that went on the auction. When they went home, they said to their Mom 'Can we paint Ebay Eggs?' She said 'You mean, Easter Eggs?' They said 'No... Ebay Eggs like at Nan's house.'

AHAO Spring Challenge

The reason for the big long story about Maggi is to explain why I chose a pregnant donkey for my Spring Challenge for the American Holiday Artist Ornament group. This is the creation that came from that inspiration.

Spring Miracles

Maggi's biological dad ... Ransom.

Maggi now

Maggi - in 1989 with our Alyssa.

******************************************** In 1981, we got our first miniature donkey. He was like a dog - following us everywhere- even into the house. I was smitten with this gentle, loving long earred friend. When someone wanted to buy him as a husband for his jennet, I said "There isn't enough money in the world for me to sell Donkey Otie." So instead, he sold us his 'Molly'.

On September 26th, 1983, Otie had a terrible accident and died. I was heart broken and could not bear to even look at Molly. I took her to my Dad's barn and swore that I could never invest that much love in any animal again. We didn't know that Donkey Otie had left us a gift. In June, Molly gave birth to a beautiful jennet - 'Annie'. I was probably more excited that day than when my own children were born. I was beyond in love with this little Disney creature with the shaggy bangs and the big eyes. In June we got another little jack - 'Nugget' - who would be our herd sire - we were Donkey Farmers.

Nugget was the same age as Annie & liked her a lot. He didn't care for old Molly - he thought that she was old and overweight & perhaps he thought that the daughter would have issues if he had a relationship with her mother. At any rate, while Molly followed him around, begging him to make her a mother again, he would just ignore her. He did do his job once or twice, but it was real work on her part to get him to oblige.

We bought a farm in 1988, simply because our critter menagerie was expanding. The first thing we did was adopt two LARGE donkeys - 'Ransom & Erin' - more than twice the size of rest of the team.

The next spring, one morning I went out to find a gorgeous chocolate coloured donkey with the most beautiful eyes. I stopped in my store to share the news with my partner & some customers overheard my excitement. They followed me out to the farm to see, what I had described as the most sweet, adorable creation in the entire world. Sure enough they agreed and said that they wanted him. The reality of donkey farming is that you can only have one jack in the herd. I had not had a single female baby since the arrival of Annie, six years earlier. I agreed that these people could adopt him and home they went, to design and build a barn to house this sweet little jack.

About a week later, when I was playing with him, I noticed that him was a HER. I called the folks and apologized profusely, telling them that there was no way that I could give up my little girl, I had waited so long to get to keep one myself. She was a gift - I thought of 'The Gift of the Magi' and name her Maggi.

As Maggi grew, she got a little bigger than any of Nuggets babies and we noticed a striking resemblance to Ransom. It became quite apparent that Molly had been tired of being rejected by Nugget and had an affair with the new guy on the block.

Almost twenty years have passed. We have had the joy of having babies each spring - dozens of beautiful, wonderful, long earred friends that have filled our lives with pleasure and love. There is nothing that compares to snuggling those soft, sweet babies - the velvet ears, the doeful eyes. It is pure joy to watch their antics as they run and jump and play.

On April 11th last year, our dear sweet Nugget died unexpectedly. It was so hard to lose such a loyal and good friend. He had two babies born after his passing - Victoria's baby was born early and only survived a few days; Samantha had a little girl that I named 'Lannie'. Annie was our very first baby and she would be our Last. Our donkey farming days had come to an end. Spring would no longer bring new life. Life on our farm has changed so much - our own children are grown and gone, our animals are all geriatric, aging along with us. It's hard sometimes, not to grieve for what is lost when it has been such a rich and fulfilling time in life.

Donkey jennets have big 'barrels' from having babies, and look pretty fat at any time with their 'hay bellies'. Well, guess what. Maggie has more than hay in hers. Nugget left her with a surprise gift, just like Donkey Otie did with her mother, twenty five years ago. Just like Maggie was a gift to me.

As spring comes, we will once again get to experience the miracle of birth. We have one more welcome and unexpected chance to have a little piece of our Nugget. Any day now, I will get to wrap my arms around a soft & cuddly, big eyed, long earred darling.

And in May, I get to hold another sweet wee babe in my arms and gaze into the eyes of yet another miracle - my grandchild.

True Confessions

Scotty tending goal last year at 5 years old.

I'm thinking that there is little chance that we're going to make it as finalists for the 'Grandparents of the Year Award'.

This weekend, we had the Grandbabes while their parents went to Toronto. At six and almost-four, they're great fun and entertainment & although they leave us totally worn out, we love to have them.

On yesterday's agenda, was taking Scotty to his hockey game. Brian hasn't been able to make it to any previous games, but I've been telling him about great he's been doing. He's so focused and works his little heart out - as Lauren likes to say 'Scotty wooks hawd'.

Brian helped him get dressed while Lauren & I waited on the bench. When our little #16 came out, we watched his every move like a hawk - especially vigilant as we were the Responsible-Adults-On-Hand in lieu of The Parents. Both teams wore red - one a just a little darker burgundy so it took particular focus to keep our eyes glued right on him.

He wasn't his usual little bulldog self - getting in there with great determination & skating with surprising agility for the fact that only a year ago he skated like he was riding a scooter. I was thinking that maybe Brian didn't have his skates tied up properly, or perhaps he liked to impress his parents more than us, or that he was just having an off day as he seemed to be falling more than usual & just not 'in there' as he normally is. I asked Brian if the position that he was playing was one where he was supposed to hang back more. But, we cheered him on and celebrated all seven goals the team got.

At supper we were telling him how much we enjoyed his game and how well he played. He explained that if 'so & so, and so & so' was on his team, that they would have won. 'But you did win', we told him. 'No ... we lost', he replied. 'Oh no ... you WON', we countered - 'Seven to Two'. 'We had the two', he said. 'No ... you had SEVEN', we insisted. 'No, two.' he replied calmly, without even a trace of impatience with his doddering old grandparents. 'No Scotty... really - you WON', we said again. 'Nah ... we only got two goals, the Little Cullitons are gooder than us.', he stated factually. The thought came to us both at the same time, but we soldiered on. 'Aren't you the Little Cullitons?' we asked. 'No, we're the other Red shirts that are a different Red from their Red shirts'. We still wouldn't accept it. 'Are you sure?' we asked. I said to Brian, 'Go out to his hockey bag and read the back of his shirt'. He shook his head 'That won't work - they keep them there.'. We tried again, determined that there was no possible way that we had spent the entire game watching the wrong child. 'Which end did your goalie stand in? 'The end far down.' he replied, still so intent on eating his dinner that he wasn't watching the look of horror, embarassment & disbelief that we were sharing back and forth. 'You played really well.' we assured him, while looking at each other, shaking our heads at our incompetence & trying to keep from laughing.

Hopefully we can redeem ourselves during soccer season - as long as they don't wear hats.

Gone to the Dogs

I don't know why I've never needle felted a dog before this. I love dogs. I love needle felting animals. With doing this fella, I've determined that I loved needle felting dogs.

He's supposed to be a St. Bernard, but he kind of looks like a Mega Hound. Regardless, he's the first canine creation.

A Frosty Day in March

There's not too much that will get me out of the house before I have my coffee. Hoar frost on a sunny day will. Or a 'crystal day', when the ice is thick on the branches and glitters in the sunshine as if the trees are made of glass. Even here in the heart of the snow belt, those days are few and far between.

There are so many factors that are in play in the magical moment of a day like today. Sunshine. Brilliant blue, cloudless sky. No breeze. Stillness - like the world has been frozen in a hush. The sun just abit warmer, an ever-so-gentle breeze, the sky clouding over - the magic can be lost in a moment. It won't wait til you have your coffee.

Off I went this morning, camera in hand - to enjoy the gift of this day. For two hours, I drove around in awe, stopped here and there to catch a couple shots & savour this last fresh breath of winter. And later, while I reviewed the 130 photos that I took - I had TWO coffees.