Liz came to shear the sheep this afternoon with her mother Barb.
I gave her the quilt I made from the fabric she had laying around for about ten year. She meant to make the quilt herself, but never got around to it.
Liz is the kind of woman who would rather clean out the barn than sit at a sewing machine.
“Did you see the pictures of the sheep I sent”, she asked me. I hadn’t. Liz told me she’d be coming back next week with the sheep she’s giving me. I pulled her message up on my phone and saw pictures of three sheep instead of two.
“You don’t have to take them all,” she said. “I just don’t want to have to send the small brown ewe to market so you can have her too if you want”.
Well, you can just imagine what I said to that.
So it looks like I’ll soon have three new Romney’s instead of two. Each one of them is a different color.
Then she told us that she was thinking of breeding her Border Collie, the one Jon fell for when we visited Liz in the spring. “Do you want a puppy if I do?” she asked Jon.
A crinkly smile lit up Jon’s whole face. “Just what I need, he said, another Border Collie who doesn’t herd sheep.” But his smile said something else.
Liz insisted on not charging me for today’s shearing. She said it was part of the trade. I feel like we both think we got the better deal.
