First, of course, are the shearing photos:
Our shearer has been shearing sheep for literally fifty years, and we thank God quite sincerely for every year he's able to continue. It's an incredibly skilled job, and well worth paying for.
Let's see what else . . .
I made bread pudding last week on a school day, in the hopes of enticing the one child who never eats breakfast to eat something before his state testing.
I failed. He did not eat. But I did get to enjoy how puffy bread pudding gets in the oven.
It always sinks again, but it's fun while it lasts.
I had an unfortunate spilling of peas right in the oven while I was removing another pan.
Ugh.
At least nothing was in there but water and peas, so I didn't have to clean butter or something off the oven.
I swept the peas right into the crack there and let them fall to the floor.
Sigh.
From there they were pretty easy to sweep up, but it was still annoying.
There you have it! My life, snapshotted.
3 comments:
The seemingly minor things, like spilled peas, that take away an amazing amount of time out of a busy, tightly planned day. Sighs warranted.
What do you do with the wool from the sheared sheep?
Ozark Yankee: A. sells some of it just as it comes off the fleece. He's had a dream for years, though, to get some of it made into yard and have a sweater made from it. Someday . . .
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