all that, yesterday, nothing new. it's a familiar place, that Wishing. Wishing i would be how i am not.
To be an artist, an artist of anything, requires devotion. Requires that whatever it is, is Primary in your day. As it is for say, Jude, Mo, Judy Martin. Their day circles their Art. It's what they Do. And i understand that, fully, but it doesn't fend off the intermittent lament. i know there is the Potential. in me. But reality is i love too many things. And most times i am ok with knowing that but sometimes....
today again, i needed to be the Goatherd. They are wary of going too far. If i go ahead and call to them, Come Come, in that bright voice, they do come. And as long as i STAY, they stay. Goatherd. I need to figure out a way to take the Cloth Making stuff with me. so i can sit in the forest somewhere and Work.
this Plant person is the next i wonder about. As with Her, this plant has evolved particular seemingly unusual qualities. My sense of it is that there is REASON for that. The stalk that rises above all the leaves is Tall. Plant is maybe 6ft tall? a little more? Why?
there was some chaos. I fed the buck goats their alfalfa early. I needed to go to the Lakeside store for ice and Buckwheat was yelling. He has finally found himself having feelings about all those doe Goats running loose. And i
forgot
to cover the feed wagon with the tarp before i left. When i got back, there was OOna...IN it, chewing away. She'd jumped into it and there were others around, waiting for an opportunity to do the same. I turned on the hose...up behind the Travel Trailer and walked back down, used it to startle her OFF and covered it once again with tarp and bungie cord and had to sit there a while because everyone that was waiting their turn needed to see that there wasn't going to be a turn, they had to look, climbing up with their front feet to see that it was closed. The wagon, which is Big, had gotten pushed ahead and over the tree root that held it in place. First thing in the morning, i need to see if i can reposition it. So it doesn't roll into the Buck Forest fence.
Cinderella has something going on with her udder and butt hole. We have been trying to apply medication. She runs. Alyssia spent an hour yesterday wrangling her and finally into their Rain Shelter, captured and sprayed with the medication. She has kept to herself for a while now, not going out to forage. Has become thin. Spent a while this eve, watching for an opportunity to give her pellets while the rest were otherwise occupied. They can hear a pellet a mile away. Finally, success. Tomorrow, that will be easier.
