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Showing posts from February, 2012

Sheep Shearing

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Today I drove out to Windrush Farm in Petaluma where they were having a shearing day . Windrush is run by Mimi Luebbermann who, together with Marlie de Swart, operates a CSA for shepherds in West Marin and Sonoma Counties . I think this is such a great venture, connecting interested fiber folks with locally produced materials. I think the Community Supported Agriculture model is brilliant. People buy shares in future harvests, which allows farmers to have a more steady cash flow throughout the year. Consumers get to support local agriculture, and farmers have a bit more breathing room, and don't have to finance their operations with bank loans. Of course, I wasn't at the farm because I was doing some kind of Good Deed. No way. I wanted to get cozy with the sheep. The shearer, John Sanchez, was incredibly skilled. He'd nab a sheep, plop it on its butt, and the sheep would just sit there with a mildly surprised look on its face. There was no struggling,

Feeling Cooped Up?

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... Robb has spent quite a lot of time designing a chicken coop for our back yard. On Saturday, we started putting it together. We're hoping to build the whole thing out of re-claimed lumber. Most of what we're using is one hundred and six year old redwood, left over from our nightmare siding project. The local building inspectors are very strict. Nothing escapes their notice. Here's what we got done on our first day of assembly.

Coronation

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... Today I'm celebrating twenty years of living cavity-free, by getting a crown. Which one should I pick?

Tuba at Daybreak

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For the third year in a row, we were awoken this past Sunday to the exhilarating sounds of live tuba music, oompah-ing through our bedroom window. ( 2010 , 2011 ) When Robb and I lived in Texas, we developed an appreciation for the vibrant intersection of Mexican and German music. Germans have lived in Mexico since the 19th Century, and its no surprise that they spread Polka wherever they went . Robb and I seem destined to live in musical neighborhoods. Our Dallas neighbors would sing lovesongs all night long, and then start the polka as soon as they got up in the morning. I still believe that tuba sounds better after a couple of cups of coffee. We haven't figured out which neighbors hire the early-morning banda musicians, so we haven't had the opportunity to ask what the occasion is. Robb suspects that it has to do with Lent (no tuba until Christ has risen!), but I'm not so sure. There was an interesting piece on NPR this past week about the thieves that

Oh, Nothing Really...

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... We've been busy, but I haven't been inspired to sift through snapshots. Thus, the blog has been neglected, of late. How about you? What have you been up to?

The Power of Art (This will make you cry, unless you have a heart of stone.)

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... Yesterday a friend shared the performance report from the Children's Theatre Company in Minneapolis . I had been having a pretty rough day, and this account of the performance changed my entire attitude. I was awe-struck. If you can't read the above text, here's what it says: It was generally agreed by all that the show was “kind of rough” (tech wise). But after the show we learned that there was a 5 year old autistic child in the house. He had never spoken. But as the lights went down, he began to talk. In full sentences. He called the teacher by name. She had no idea he even knew her name. He was engaged in the show – at one point commenting to the teacher that if there is a dragon then there will be fire. And there was fire. He talked all throughout the show. When the lights came back up – he quit talking and returned to his world. So, yes, I could list all the little things that wrong today but that is not what this show is about. And th