I’ve been moonlighting lately. After a month of blizzards, animal births and foster kid drama my mind is a bit fried. But I can still take pictures!
ENTER INSTAGRAM. It’s surprisingly fun. Photo shoots with goats are fun. HERE’S MY LINK:
I’m also on Twitter now but still haven’t figured out what it’s about. 🙂
How nice it is to mention going sledding and having a husband who drops what he’s doing to sharpen his chainsaw the day before a snowstorm. Down came a few “ironwood” saplings (to be used for winter heating) and up we climbed the next day to have some fun.
You’re never too old to coast down a hill. The goats were not impressed.
WINTER IN STRATHEARN by John Davidson The twinkling Earn, like a blade in the snow, The low hills scalloped against the high, The high hills leaping upon the low, And the amber wine in the cup of the sky, With the white world creaming over the rim, She watched; and a keen aroma rose, Embodied, a star above the snows; For when the west sky-edge grows dim, When lights are silver and shades are brown, Behind Torlum the sun goes down; And from Glenartney, night by night; The full fair star of evening creeps; Though spectral branches clasp it tight, Like magic from their hold it leaps. And reaches heaven at once. Her sight Gathers the star, and in her eyes She meekly wears heaven's fairest prize.
I actually had to stick my hand and arm up to my elbow into a goat to pull out a stuck kid! (You can bet that will make it into one of my books!). After an all-nighter with my extremely patient husband in the cold barn feeling tense and hungry with a goat having a tough delivery I’m taking the day off from blogging–so I leave you with a nice blog of old photos.
I’ll be back in a few days. Enjoy our new goat kids . . . Holden, Francis and Kaitlyn and the little drake named Ferdinand. Sun Salutation Huckle chasing goat tail.
Today I’m a bit stuck–well, not really–I could write for days about the Crenshaw women undermining Buck’s future wife, but it feels too like dessert before dinner and I’m a traditionalist. Hanging over me like the Sunday after a good vacation is MERCHANT BANKING. I’m being dramatic here. It’s actually exciting to peruse titles of scholarly articles like “Good Intentions and Unintended Evil: The Case Against Selective Credit Allocation” and have no idea what the author is saying. It means I’m on to something juicy. By chance Englewood, New Jersey (where all of my books take place) happens to also be the home of many prominent bankers of the late 19th century. Isn’t that a happy coincidence? I even used some of their names (found on headstones at Brookside Cemetery) before I knew who they were. But I’m off topic. Buck is suddenly successful at a prestigious banking house and I must find out every last thing about it. Of course they smoke and have amazing desks, but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that. Life really is great, don’t you think? Five years ago I read The House of Morgan by Ron Chernow. It came everywhere with me and even got chewed up by goats and drenched in the rain. I just liked the cover when I bought it. Today I’ll sift through the bibliography and furiously underline leads. I’m also re-reading The Screwtape Letters for fun–and furiously underlining good evil stuff. I hope Buck really enjoys his honeymoon because life is about to get bumpy–yet again.