"Muffin"- My "don't mess with me" ewe lamb

I finally had a day that was all planned out and supposed to be my return to heaven. My studio.

I got the door opened. That was all.

I spent the morning catching up on the odds and ends of life, psyching myself up for a full day of paint fumes, creativity and old blues tunes.

What I got was a phone call at 12:10 from Dave asking me to bring the truck into Admiral auto glass for a new windshield.

And oops, the appointment was at 12.

Can you hurry?

What planet was that man born on????? I am lounging around using the comfort of my own home to peruse the joys of the Internet and do correspondence. These things do not require the application of make up or undergarments designed to help fight gravity and the effects of childbirth. I was enjoying my "Au Natural" look. It requires no time to create and is totally functional in the studio.

It is however NON functional in polite society. So quicker than you can mutter "vote" I get dressed in semi suitable clothes, slap on the minimum amount of warpaint needed to be presentable in public and trot of to town where I am assured I will not be even an hour.

The Fullerton time defect. There is a defective gene in the Fullerton DNA. It makes the whole family (I am a Fullerton by marriage lets remember that) prone to a drastic miscalculation in time. Things like judging the length of time it takes to burn maple syrup, when to appear at a wedding and picking kids up at after school functions all require the use of a watch. Not just the wearing of the device but actually LOOKING at it from time to time.

Comprehension of the little moving arms is usually optional.

In Dave's case his defect goes so far as for him to assume the length of time it takes to replace a windshield and using his VAST knowledge of such a repair job to sucker his poor wife into coming to town for a "quick trip".

Not once did it ever occur to the man to ask the owner of the repair shop for the actual amount of time required to properly install a new windshield. In the Fullerton time continuum those are trivial questions. Ones that never inconvenience the Fullerton but always leaves the wife smiling politely while suppressing the urge to throttle said husband as she hears about the minimum 2 hour application time.

SO the photo above is of my only ewe lamb this year. She is gorgeous, big and fast. She is also not a fan of humanity and likes to take tips from her mom on how to knock a human of their feet. The body block to the back of the knees is usually an effective manner to ensure extra bits of sweet feed land on the ground nearby. The look on her face is what I usually receive when I deftly step out of her way prior to her demolition attempt at my lower extremities.

It is also the same look I gave Dave when I realized that my afternoon of bliss surrounded by paint and canvas was diverted into a "wait in town while the ice cream melts in the trunk" look.

Do you think the man understands or is he misinterpreting that glare as a tolerant woman's attempt to be compromising?

We'll see how happy he is this weekend when he realizes that the kids can have friends over all weekend "cause Mom said it was OK."

By the way I am out of the house the weekend!

Nant y Mor Rams on the go!

The Boys are loose!

Easter has come and gone.

I hope you enjoyed yours. I personally have decided to refrain from participating in next years commercial portion of this festive event.

I try to be a good sport about it and I have to admit to being a "Chocoholic". This is one of my fav times of the year to let loose and indulge in all sorts of critters formed into this mouthwatering hip building bit of joy.

When I was a child my mother would buy candy Easter eggs, hide them through out the house in a variety of ingenious locations and my brother and I would spend the majority of the day searching for the sugary treasures.

We would still find them months after ward too!

My mom was a master at the event and recalling how much I enjoyed my own little treasure hunt I continued the tradition with my own children.

Unfortunately I did not inherit my mothers ability to purchase the required goods, hide them safely until the evening before and then distribute them stealthily through out the family home.

Last year I got caught by my son who had to "get a drink". The jig was up as there was no plausible way to explain the full bag in my hand or the smear of candy crumbs on my lips. The trail of eggs on the counter behind me might have been a give away! I promised then not to repeat the event this year but was sucked in by the commercialism of the season. Plus it was a reason to eat more of Gods best edible creation...chocolate.

This year I waited until well after midnight when I knew my offspring would be well asleep in their beds before I began the distribution of treasure. That was the plan.

Remember my lack of acquired heritiable traits? I did remember to buy the candy and to safely hide it where the kids could not find it. The problem was I promptly forgot where my chocolate stash was!

Underwear drawers, linen closets and kitchen cupboards all seemed like viable hiding spots. I know they work...I have used them before. Now the concern was that I would have to wait until July when the sweltering summer heat melted them in to a pool of goo that an army of ants would locate and then I would have two problems.

Actually three, clean up, raid and regret. Regret that I did not get to taste one morsel of chocolate and I would have to share with the first cousin to the cockroach. Eewww.

So by the light of the moon, fuelled by fear of insect infestation David and I began the "Search and Recover" mission of 2011. This is usually a bi annual event as I seem to "lose" crucial components of Christmas gifts as well. I am choosing to view this as a "gift" while ignoring the mumblings of my husband as I listen to a litany of "Every time...How can you do this EVERY time?"

Like I said..talent.

Long story short..they were found. Yep, they were in the underwear drawer, which will no doubt gross my kids out and do nothing to deter me, and without fear of capture the Easter bunny once again laid those delectable morsels of Chocolate around our house.

The kids have eaten all they have found and yes I did locate a few missed treasures which I hoarded until I sure I would not have to share.

I am not sure if I will continue the event in its present form. My Lamarkian abilities seems to be in full play here so maybe next year I will just dump the bag in the center of the table and have a proper feast. After all, shouldn't it be treated like the nectar of the Gods that it is and enjoyed before its expiration date sets in?

I'll let you know next year how it goes!

The photos above are from a recent visit to Nant Y Mor Farms and as I can not resist a great galloping sheep shot the boys are captured in all their glory! I have many more and as the weeks move on you'll get to see them all. Gwyneth and I are hoping to do a tour of the province and get some more photos of all the great breeds we have here. Plus, it is lambing season so who could resist the beauty of a woolie little bundle of joy!

Have a great day!

Sunshine Kitty

Sometimes the fates just decide to gang up on you. The best thing you can do at a time like this is to go with the flow and follow the kitty above, sit in the sunshine and wait it out!

Yesterday we decided to take a mini family trip to Moncton which is only about 90 minutes away. I like shopping there, it is different than home in that they are a bit more European in their clothing tastes and if they swear at you it is usually in French and you can choose to pretend that they are being friendly. Also they have lower taxes there.

That is a big one so as we began our travels David looks at the gas gauge which has been finicky lately, dancing like a child with an urgent need to visit a restroom, and decided that it looked like it would be sufficient to get us to the New Brunswick border.

Any parent with children knows what happens when you push a toddler beyond their urinary tract capabilities.

So about 45 minutes into our journey the truck sputters once and proceeds ever so nicely to stop running. The momentum of our trip over the Cobequid Highlands now coming to a complete and shocking halt. David coaxed it into starting again and we quickly realized our error in judgement and made a quick u turn and headed for home.

Alas, it was not to be. Several 100 metres later we are sitting quietly in our truck allowing gravity to propel us down one Easterly side of the Cobequid Pass until inertia could now longer aid us and we pull over silently to the shoulder.

It is amazing to watch a grown man in the throes of disbelief as he continually attempts to start the truck. Each time the ignition fails to turn over the level of hysteria that my children exhibit increases exponentially. It was as if someone remove their reason for living.

Stuck on the side of the highway on a gorgeous sunny day with the view of the Bay of Fundy below us and they panic.

Had I been a cat I am quite sure I would have curled up in the back, let the sunshine warm my body and had a well deserved snooze. That is if I could have drowned out the persistent tap tap tap of David as he tried frantically to call someone.

Surprise surprise...no one is in their homes on the first stunningly gorgeous day of the year!

Eventually a friend of ours that we buy hay from came to our rescue and we were soon on our way to New Brunswick, where Dave wasted no time splurging and filling the gas guzzling tank of our petroleum sucking transportation device.

Yes it was a great day!!!

Spring has Sprung

I had to post this little fellow today. He is the first one of the season and so I feel he must be celebrated. His presence heralds the coming of summer.

I know everyone here hates the Dandylion but I personaly adore them. They are a bright beautiful happy colour and they are the first sign of life after a long and often brutal winter. My neighbor must love them too as his lawn becomes the most vivid shade of yellow as these blooms block out all versions of green on his property.

You have to give these guys credit. They have tenacity and no matter how low you set your mower blades they have a flexibility that an olympic gymnastic would envy as each swath of our machine leaves perfectly aligned rows of freshly turned up sod and bent blades. As each survivor pops up unscathed after each pass it has you wondering if trying to kill them is even worth it. My sheep love to eat them and although I am loath to set them free anywhere near my flower beds I have to admit being kind to the ovis on site has a certian appeal to it.

Dandylions seem to be the scourge of any gardener and I will admit to forming a downright hostlitiy to them shortly after the honeymoon period is finished but I still like their bright colours. It is hard to maintain a grudge against something that always seems to be smiling.

Run over by a vehicle (any sort will do ) and what is the response from this chipper flower 'What? Did I miss something?"

Trod upon by any life form including my horse and even if it is partially mangled it will rise on twisted stem to gaily shout, "s'ok, I'm fine. Did I miss anything?"

My son has taken to using my dressage whips on them. It seems the slender flexible whip lends itself to a slicing motion that neatly removes the blossoms from their stems. Connor receives a great amount of joy from watching them take flight through the air. The drawback is that the closest kin to the fallen always seems to sprout up instanteously asking

"Whats up?"

So here is my motto for the summer. Compromise. When those busy bobbins of vegetative profusion pop up amoung my carefully groomed blades of green I will smile and enjoy the moment.

Then leave David to do all the weeding!

Have a blooming great spring.

Bad Girls and Good Boys

Muffin
(3/4 Blue Face Leicester X Clun Forest ewe lamb)

Spring has sprung and now that all my ewes have lambed out I get to sit back and enjoy them growing at an exponential rate. They go through grain in a similar fashion to my teenagers. I seem to be making regular trips to the feed/grocery store to keep the growing brood well nourished.

The above young lady is my only ewe lamb this year and her name is "Muffin". My daughters choice in names not mine and I will guarantee you will not have a "muffin top" if you plan to catch her! She is out of my best ewe Eve (Clun Forest X Blue Faced Leicester) and by a Blue Faced Leicester ram. Her brother Myles is my fav as he takes after his dad in every way. He loves attention and regularly follows you around until you finally stop to scratch his back. His sister is the opposite watching with wary eyes until you drop the feed and leave. I suppose that means she will survive all manner of attack but seriously...my only ewe lamb???!!!!

Those long legs are made for running and those big eyes are made for for watching and although I call her all forms of brain dead there is definitely enough synaptic processes going on to outwit, out maneuver and out run Anna and I. Catching Muffin is some what like roping the wind. Her tractability definitely comes from her mother who delights in playing human bowling with my kneecaps each day. Considering she weighs in the area of 200lbs her presence does not go unnoticed. I only hope the bruising will be gone by summer so I will not have to sport multi coloured legs in 30 degree heat!

Anna has decided that showing Benny her Purebred Clun Forest Ram would be a much more enjoyable experience!

The only way Muffin seems to get caught lately is when Connor takes the camera out. He did a fine job of taking only photos and leaving only footprints....his and Muffins always lead in opposite directions!

As the saying goes, "the good die young" so I am resigned to the fact that Muffin will be here for a VERY long time. At least she won't want to become a house pet like Rex the rooster!

The Insulator-photo-Connor Fullerton

I get the biggest charge out of kids. If you leave them alone to be their own individuals and let them speak freely it is truly amazing the things that come out of their mouths.

My son is a prime example. Like any other 13 year male version of the species he has entered that phase of his life I call "slothdom". There is a trail of belongings that if he were to get lost would help any searcher find him in a nanosecond. His own ability to recognize his belongings and to relocate them to a more suitable environment aka his bedroom seems to be a learned response. One he has yet to master and no amount of coaxing, bribing, blackmail or screeching seems to affect his ability to retain this knowledge.

I went into his room to say goodnight and there in the middle of the floor sat an empty laundry basket. Surrounding it like a massive body of water was a variety of discarded clothing. Realizing that the vast area covering the floor was too large to navigate I waded through it. All manner of crunching and cracking was heard as bits of Lord knows what hidden in his pockets was broken. I am sure it will filter out in the washing machine.

I watched my son for a moment before reprimanding him about this Island in his room and the fact that the basket appeared not to be inhabited by any soiled clothing. Without blinking an eye he stared back at me and stated

"Its art Mom."

Seriously, how am I supposed to remain all "Mom faced" after a line like that????

After the giggles stopped I told him that it appeared to be performance art and the performance was over. Clean up the stage.

This morning the island is slightly inhabited and the waters are receding but it still requires a master mariner to make it from his door to his bed without trodding upon some sort of debris!

Connor is learning how to become a photographer and doing quite a fine job of it. The above photo is his attempt to use the evening sun to illuminate an old glass insulator. I must say that this is what I had in mind when he said, "It's art Mom."

Grey Puss 3x5 Oil Portrait Sold

On those rare moments when I get a few seconds to myself I enjoy the studio. It is like a cool drink of water while stranded in the desert. Someday I will have more than a few seconds to spend at the easel and this blog will return to its former glory of a daily posting.

The above painting is one third of a trio. All three pusses are very different in appearance and it should be a really neat series when completed.

That is if I can keep the owner from crying.

I was warned. I didn't beleive it would happen and I was unprepared. I rummaged in my pockets for a tissue and realized that all I had to offer was a fewballed up used ones. Realizing that would not be a classy gesture I scooted out of the room and returned when she found nicer tissues than I could supply!

My people skills need work and my pockets have been cleaned out.

Next time I present her with another painting I will be bringing a box of Kleenex with me!