Idiot sheep

Lost a sheep a couple days ago. Owen and I were just going past the barn when we glanced into the goat room to see two sheep tangled in wire around the fence post in the middle of the room. One was clearly dead; the other, one of the ram lambs, lay resignedly, too stiff to struggle and aware of the futility. I went to him first, working him out of the wire and massaging his hind legs, which were so stiff he wouldn't get up on his own. Once he was up and walking I turned to the dead lamb. He was one of Starling's sons, a big wether destined for eventual slaughter and, like the other lambs born here, ridiculously skittish and high-strung. By the look of it, he'd gotten a little tangled, struggled, and ended up wrapping himself so tightly around the post that he strangled himself. Where the ram lamb had resigned himself to wait for rescue, the wether lamb had fought his way into an even worse and inevitably fatal position.

Dad and the boys hung the carcass up in the red garage and drained it. It took them a while, but they got it dressed and cut into the basic chunks, which came to Mom and me for further processing. It was about eleven when we finished the last leg and put the rib cage in the refrigerator for tomorrow. It was alone in the fridge; we'd cleaned and turned on one of the refrigerators in the garage for the meat, but everything else fit in the kitchen fridge just fine. Oh, well.

Home again

Watched The Pelican Brief last night. It was really good--I'd like to watch it again. Oh, and another ep of Castle--jewel thefts/poker pride.

Spent the morning packing. I was mostly packed already, from last week's aborted departure, but there were still a number of things, plus the car to load. And I ended up forgetting my mudboots and bomber jacket. Gah.

It was a fairly short trip, subjectively speaking. We listened to The Forever War and various music off the iPhone, alternatively. Didn't finish the book. Owen called a number of times, interrupting whatever we were listening to. I was supposed to call him when we got into Nebraska, but I never got around to it. We'd been in-state for quite awhile, and were sitting waiting for direction at a construction zone, when I rolled down the window, inhaling the warm, humid air, and suddenly felt that I was home. It was a good feeling.

I think all the boys have grown. I know all the sheep have, even the previously underfed ewes; the lambs are enormous. The garden is a jungle and the melon patch overflowing.

Dachshund

Made it to church in good time, parking as the Debe's were getting out of their car. The sermon was on the nature of Christianity, with emphasis on the three aspects: faith, love and hope. The text was from Colossians 1. I thought it was very good. There were two psalms sung, fewer than usual but both with familiar tunes. The service ended with Communion. I talked to Debe girls for a bit, and then I had to say goodbye to as many friends as I could find. I didn't find as many as I could have wished, Jenna, for instance, having left; but I ran into Tava, for one, and Mr. Marble. Ben's in Wyoming, though.

Came home, had lunch, did some blogging, did some packing.

It was nice out when we larked after dinner. We ran into three women and a dachshund at the bottom of the hill on the road; Lark was wary but well-behaved until the little guy put his forepaws up against my leg. I did not, I regret to say, grab her by the scruff of her neck and shake her, which is what I need to do. It might not improve her attitude, but it would certainly convey my opinion of her behavior. Fortunately we met no one after that, although it was a pretty near thing at the pond. We turned off onto the dike before we ran into the familiar pit bull and her master.

Bad Net this evening. Philip's having trouble too.

Border collie/pointer, Golden, dachshund, Aussie

We did the Incline first thing. It did not get off to a good start; we parked at an extreme distance, up in the residential area. It was a long walk. On the way we met another woman/dog pair headed that way. The dog was a Border collie/ pointer cross, his body leaning toward pointer and his coat an interesting patchwork of black and white, as if it couldn't decided whether to be solid or speckled, and had compromised. They were the first of many climbers--it was sunny and warm, and a lot of people were doing the climb. We leapfrogged with a young woman from Louisiana who'd been in Colorado for two weeks and was beginning her high-altitude exercise regimen with an attempt at the Incline, having more or less recovered from giving birth a few weeks ago. She made it all the way up. Oh, and a man passed us on his way down with a Golden and this tiny dachshund with really short legs. The Golden was doing fine, and the dachshund was keeping up, in a game hopping scramble. I hope it was carried up, because I have no idea how that dog could have gotten up some of those steps. We made it up in an hour and thirty-one minutes, eleven minutes more than last time, which miffed Phil rather. We sat in the shade at the top for awhile, cooling off, and then headed down the trail. That was when my feet began to hurt, that trail being by no stretch of the imagination flat, level, or even smooth. In most areas your feet are on slopes which run down to the gully in the center of the path. One foot began to drop broad hints about pulled muscles. We kept going. The End Was In Sight--no, not by a long shot; but we were aware of its presence. We passed a number of people, going both up and down. Going up was the older couple with the Aussie. She was big, with easily twenty pounds or more on Lark (although more pounds than she should have, for her inches), and she was a beautiful black tri, with a wide white collar over the back of her neck. She was lovely. She was also shortly to overheat, as her coat was considerably thicker than Lark's--almost winter weight. I hope they didn't go far. We had quite a ways to go yet: down the trail to the parking lot, down from there to the road, along the road to the uphill branch that led to the car. We stopped on the way at the Iron Spring, where, every few seconds, water spurts out of a hose from a structure like a glorified wellhead. Of greater interest to me was the creek; Lark and I scrambled carefully down to the water, and Lark, after cautious consideration, walked into the water. It was, for the most part, only a couple of inches deep, but the current was very fast. She cooled her paws all the same, which was what I'd had in mind. We climbed back up to the pavement and rested. Philip got a Nalgene out of the pack--I think all the good water was gone, excluding the dog water--and got some of the water from the spring.  It was really strong and tasted fairly awful. It wouldn't have been so bad, though, if the minerals hadn't stuck to my tongue. Glech. After that we continued, more or less refreshed, up to the car, and thence to Boonzaijer's. Rosie from church was manning the counter and took our order: and eclair each for me and Grandma, and the last fruit croissandwich for Philip. It was rather like the fruit cups, with the same fruit and cream, but the pastry base was an enormous croissant, the top dusted with powdered sugar. It looked delicious. Philip confirmed this estimate. We ate at the bakery and then went to King Sooper's for a few things--Grandma had called us at Boonzaijer's to say she was out of Vaseline, and I already had a small shopping list. We didn't take long, and then rejoined Lark in the car with a SoBe for me and a Gatorade for Phil. Then we went home. And crashed. I'm pretty sure Phil went to sleep, but I had computing to do and didn't really want to take a nap.

At about five o'clock Philip and I went out to dinner. We started at Trinity Brewery, a lively little place with a Colorado atmosphere and an emphasis on the drinks. The waiting was pretty informal, with a get-your-own-plate principle, but they were impressively green, with (main point) a bin for food scraps, labeled "scraps for the piggies." We asked about it, and the waitress told us that the scraps go to a farm, but tend to end up with the chickens, as pigs don't discriminate and are like to eat a toothpick. We sat at a table with high bar stools, and Philip had a beer ("Drinkable") and I had a root beer. It was mild and not very fizzy, with some resemblance to a cream soda, but I liked it. We had sliders to eat, which are basically mini hamburgers. Those were very good. Philip, who seemed to look on the evening as an exercise in criticism, made me rate the place. Three or four stars.

Shuga's was next, a nice little cafe on Cascade. We ate outside, ordering a cup each of the spicy shrimp soup, and Philip had a cocktail--I don't recall the name, unfortunately. The soup was good, not too spicy, but by the time I'd gotten half way through mine the inside of my mouth had had enough. We talked more than we ate there, but it was a nice place, with a comfortable atmosphere. Three or four stars.

After Shuga's we went to Amanda's Fonda, a Mexican-style family restaurant with a lot of business. We waited perhaps an hour for a table, until Philip went and collared a waitress--we were served immediately. The outside eating area was on a large porch on the far side from the road; it was well-guarded from mosquitoes by torches, a very real necessity, as a creek ran just below. The sound was a pleasant undercurrent to the conversation and music. We ordered the seafood enchiladas, and shared; they weren't bad, but I can think of better uses for seafood. We left once Philip finished his grande margarita, which he'd bought at the bar at the beginning of our wait. I had a few sips, at intervals, and liked it; the initial flavor, of citrus, gradually giving way in your mouth to a mildly alcoholic taste, was a pleasant effect. Three stars.

The plan for the fourth stop was an Irish pub-style restaurant downtown. We found the place, only to discover that, at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, they were carding everyone at the door. We kept walking, and ended up at Josh & Jon's ice cream parlor. There was a chalk board next to the line, where lots of people had left messages--there was one, "Call Cameron for a good time--719-337-0075"--it was pretty fun to look at. We ordered a butter pecan sundae, with hot fudge, whipped cream, and two cherries, to share. It was really good. Sarah Debenedittis says we should have gotten Yellow Cake, though--she says the ice cream tastes exactly like cake. The butter pecan was good, all the same. Afterwards we walked around a bit more, as my legs grew increasingly mutinous, and it was a relief to sit down when we reached the car and went home.

Castle, episode 6. Mystery: jewel theft. Personal: Cinderella comes to the ball. Funfunfun.

Golden Retriever, sheltie

Had to get up and get moving, because Philip had assigned housework before the bridge ladies came. I'd vacuumed upstairs and was starting on the bathroom when Stephanie appeared unexpectedly. By the time I was waiting for Syd to come for the lark, Lee was here too--albeit expected. 

It was a pretty good walk. We ran first of all into Jackson and his lady, followed shortly by the woman I'd met just before the second snake; she was accompanied by a man who might have been her husband. The next meeting was under the trees; a(n older) teenager with his sheltie stopped to engage in wary conversation with Lark. After that it was just us. When we got home I came over to Syd's to get some library books; I'd given them to her to take back, but as Philip was retreating into town while the bridge group was here, I took advantage of the opportunity to go to the library. Syd and I decided I might as well take the books back while I was at it. While I was there Syd had a video for me to watch, and then I showed her and Ralph the wedding video. They were pretty appreciative. Then Phil called and said we were leaving in ten minutes. I came home to find him sitting outside.

The library was pretty busy. Beguilement is still not available at East branch, so I found another Loretta Chase and sat down. It wasn't bad, but my favorite is still Mr. Impossible. I think I need to read more Carsington books, though--so far I've only seen two of the brothers catch it, and I know there are at least two more with their own books. Anyway, we ended up checking out and going home for lunch. (Philip had an Ian Banks.)

Larked after dinner. It was pretty cool out, and we weren't the only ones out. The Serious Discussion couple ran into us at the curve by the pond. Lark seemed unusually uncertain about greeting them, though. She was less uncertain about charging off into the scrub on the far side of the creek; there was one very impressive bound straight into the air at one point, as she tried to get a better look at her quarry. Unlike the doe earlier, this quarry turned around. The next I knew of it, Lark was charging out of the scrub, pursued by a coyote. It saw me and did an impressive about-face; Lark promptly did the same and started to chase it. I used the Voice. She came back, without having gotten very far. Possibly she is beginning to take coyotes seriously, although I somehow doubt it. Sigh. After that we didn't meet anyone until passing the couple on their way back, near the gate.

Watched Silence of the Lambs. I guess it was pretty good, but I don't deal with creeps very well.

Episode 6 of Castle: "Always Buy Retail." Mystery: occult. Personal: ex-wife trouble.

Brace of German Shepherds

Quiet morning. Philip went off to get the car serviced and stuff, and then I think he has to take Grandma for her INR. I put off Lark's walk because I thought we were doing the Incline, but I'm not sure when it's going to happen. It's a nice cool day, though, so if it turns out we're not doing the Incline I can just take her out. We might want to beware the kid on the motorbike who's been buzzing around outside for the past two hours or so, though.

Well, it had warmed up quite a bit by the time I found out Philip had done the Incline without me. In the meantime Lark was bouncing off the walls. At three-thirty the sun went behind a cloud, and I seized the moment and took her out. It was nice and cool, too, with a few drops of a rain and a little thunder. That had quit by the time we were almost to the pond, where I met a man with two extremely handsome German Shepherds in hand. Lark came running to me when she saw them (from a safe distance) and growled a very little and one as she tried to convince me to pick her up. I didn't, but the attempt put her head a couple of inches higher than theirs, so she was satisfied to leave it at that until we went on. After that the sun came out, and by the time we got home it was hot again.

Philip and I were talking on the couch, and the conversation, through circuitous routes, ended on Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Philip decided that I should watch an episode, and he picked "Our Mrs. Reynolds," episode eight, I believe. I think I like Richard Castle better, if we're talking Nathan Fillion, but it's pretty fun. Especially when you have the XKCD skateboard comics to remember while watching.

After dinner I fell asleep and didn't wake 'till ten. -_-; We cleaned up the kitchen and watched Castle 5, the resurrected case, "A Chill Runs Through Her Veins." They were lucky--the case was only five years old. I think Poirot's was forty.

After that I read the Mary Higgins Clark which has been lying around. Two Little Girls In Blue is suspense, and not much else. The writing is serviceable, with occasional sentences that make you stop and reconstruct them. The suspense is effective, and would make a good distraction if you were waiting somewhere and had nothing else to read; otherwise it's pretty pointless. Also there were too many characters, given a momentary voice and then abandoned, except for a page of two later on. Very few characters were permitted much development. It's pretty much a plot-driven book, with little support from the other elements.

   Is the proverb "Ignorance is bliss" a fallacy? It's a questionable point, certainly. The study Sigelman mentions suggests that this is the case; that people are happier the more they know. I think this is certainly possible, as the more you know, the less likely you are to run into stressful situations through ignorance. There are many examples of cases where a little more knowledge would  have averted a great deal of unhappiness.

   My favorite illustration of the point occurs in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. The Bennet family is ignorant of George Wickham's true character, which leads them into the error of permitting the flighty youngest daughter to accompany Wickham's regiment to its station in fashionable Brighton. Wickham takes advantage of Lydia's innocence and elopes with her, and the Bennets, their friends, and their relations suffer a great deal before the situation, easily prevented with a little more knowledge, is remedied. The entire family, with their friends and relations, would all have been much happier had they been a little better informed.

   In my own experience there have been several incidents when a little less ignorance would have materially contributed to happiness. In one case, it was the middle of winter and extremely cold outside. Two of our goats were pregnant, but we didn't know when they were due. It was through sheer luck that I discovered the newborns as I was checking on the sheep before bed; had they been born half an hour later, the kids would have died before morning. As it was, their legs and ears were frostbitten, and their bodies weak with cold. I stayed up all night with those kids, warming them in the house and trying to get them to eat. It was several days before they could walk properly, and their ears were always puckered from the frostbitten edges. Had we only known they were due, a close watch would have been kept on the mother, and the kids would have been born in a warm room, with us standing by to make sure all went well.

To use a historical example, had the British soldiers garrisoning Fort Ticonderoga been aware of the American plan to take the fortress, they would have made sure the fort was better guarded and in better repair. But the Americans found a weak point in the wall and snuck in, and Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys took the fort with ease. If the British had known what was coming, they might have at least been fully dressed when they were taken prisoner.

There are many more examples, and they all support the point: you will be much happier if you know what's going on. Ignorance leads to a number of states, none of them even remotely blissful: they include stress, mess, injury, illness, defeat, and humiliation, to name a few. A stitch in time saves nine, but only if you've spotted the tear.

Edited a little when I typed it out, but not as much as I'd have liked. It took five minutes more than allowed on the test to write it. -_-;

It was ten when we larked, and pretty hot. We met no one on the first leg, but early in the second leg there was a teenager and his.....man, I don't know. Grandma? I didn't get a very good look. They remained within earshot behind us for most of the second leg. The boy sounded like he was talking a mile a minute, but I'm not sure what about. Maybe the weather--Lark and I were broiled by the time we got back.

After lunch Philip had me work on the SAT. I finished that practice test, and he totaled my score, although I don't think he scored the essay, which I finished. Oh, right--gotta post that for Mom. I think, besides that, my score was 1150, though. Not counting the essay. I took half-an-hour to write it, without referring to my last attempt (and going in a somewhat different direction). My arm was cramping before I finished.

About four we left to go to the church barbecue at Bear Creek. We took nearly an hour getting there, having an inadequate idea which of the various roads claiming to be a part of Bear Creek Park actually led to the park facilities. We found it eventually, however, and I played volleyball with some of the other kids/young adults (in the more literal sense) until it was time to eat. Rachel and Liz Debenedittis and several people I didn't know were on my side, with Sarah and Abby, Elise Mann, Matt, and some more people I don't know on the other team. Ben stood at the net and hit from either side--'libero' playing taken to a new extreme. I was getting fairly decent by the time we quit. We ate at six, I think, sitting with Abby, Ben, Matt, and Rachel opposite, and I think Josh Mann on Philip's far side. After dinner I watched everybody play Frisbee until it was time to go at seven. There should have been plenty of time to walk the dog before dark, but it started raining, and then thundering, so we went along the road almost to the trail and then turned back. I'm beginning to hate thunder, especially when I'm outside.

Philip and I then proceeded to spend at least an hour wrestling with the math problems on the SAT practice test that I missed. It was pretty interesting. There was one that he missed, and a few that he said I didn't need to learn just then, sometimes because I was just getting there in algebra and sometimes because he just didn't want to mess with it.

After that we did what he calls calisthenics, the same program as last night. I did better,  but crunches are.....geh. Abs + crunches = jelly, for lack of a better description.

Then we got floats and watched episode 4 of Castle, which was the politicians one. "Hell Hath No Fury" is the episode name--possibly because the murder was arranged/accompliced by the guy's wife, with assistance from his campaign manager, who did the deed for her.

Then I read some Waverley, started Wickford Point, and went to bed.

This morning did not get off to a good start. To begin with, Philip got me up about an earlier than expected. Thus I was up before Grandma. She was still in bed when I called Syd to ask if she was coming. She wasn't, having work today, so I went back and had breakfast. We seem to have gotten an extra paper, too, but that's only weird. It was later, after Grandma had gotten up, that there were real problems: she went into the bathroom and started having a spurting nosebleed. Philip got her back to bed with a roll of toilet paper to blot her nose, and I cleaned up the bathroom and started making phone calls. Summit Home Health Care told me to call the doctor, as he had to tell them before they could do anything. So, as instructed, I left a message. Then Grandma had me call Syd, and she and Ralph came over while I was getting dressed. They kicked me out to walk to the dog, and when I got back at nine-fifteen Philip had taken Grandma to the emergency room.

There followed a quiet afternoon of taking phone calls, and reading (or computing) in between. There was a call from Carole, Uncle Chuck, and Linda from the home nurse supply place, which last came just as I heard them getting into the garage. Grandma was very unsteady, so we got her to her room, and then fed her, and then she went to bed. Later in the afternoon she called a conference; its conclusion was that we'll continue here until next week. I had wondered if this would happen, back when I was beginning to get into going-home mode. Oh well. At least now I have a chance at going to the barbecue tomorrow night.

It was nice and cool when we larked; down on the road I even wondered if I would want a sweater, but I knew I'd warm up. I did, but not much--it was comfortably cool the entire time. The trail was pretty busy. We ran into the Serious Conversation couple at the beginning of the trail, then went without meeting anyone until the turn under the trees just before the pond. There we ran into about five young men/older teens. One was carrying a guitar case. The happily conversing knot reformed into a polite single file to let me pass; come to think of it, it was rather as if the teacher had come in. Hm. I got clear of them and stopped to whistle for Lark; her arrival was signaled by a startled shout behind me before she came tearing down the path. I wish very much I'd seen it when she erupted from the underbrush right next to someone. I can imagine it, but I wish I'd seen it. With our company reunited we advanced to deal with the couple ahead of us, (presumably dating) teenagers. The boy was bent over something, a cellphone, perhaps, as he walked along; the girl accompanied him silently. I don't think they noticed us once: we never passed them, as they passed our turnoff before I had to modify my pace to stay behind, and they never looked back. Probably they attributed my whistle to the boys. After those two we saw no one, but we could hear the boys' rowdy conversation all the way to the Heller Center, where it sounded as though they were in the summer house-thingy-building. I did not stay to investigate, as it was very nearly full dark.

After we got home I wrestled with the computer for a bit, then gave up on the agonizingly slow internet and went to make a float. Philip caught me on my way to the kitchen and dragged me down to the sitting room to, he said, exercise. There was a four-minute song, and we were to exercise until the end of the song. We started with pushups, standing up and raising our arms after each one. I think we made it to fifteen, with Philip waiting as I lagged. After that was crunches, touching elbows to opposite knees until my abs were jelly. Finally, to fill the time until the song ended, we did bridges. This is Philip's name for getting into the pushup stance and going down on elbows, with forearms planted on the floor. I think he interlaced his fingers, but I just made fists. I gritted my teeth and held it until the song ended, when I collapsed. Lark was so worried that the traditional post-torment snuggle ended with her on my stomach. She can just about deal with pushups and situps, those being more or less familiar, but anything else is most worrisome.

After that we made floats and watched Castle episode 3, which had for its theme teenagers in (or making) trouble. The downfall of our high-school mastermind was pretty lame. I'm still trying to determine whether it was so on purpose--he was a pretty obnoxious kid.

I finished Candide after that; the ending was pretty good--rather better than anything I'd expected. Started Waverley, then went to bed.

*ded* Managed, amazingly, to get out at more or less the usual time--possibly because Cheerios don't require as much chewing as frosted shredded wheat. Stephanie, Carole's successor, arrived as Lark and I were heading out, and then Syd called to talk to me about Isaac. I'm afraid she was pretty unhappy about the way he was acting on our walk the other day. -_-; She wanted to tell me if I ever want her to intervene, I'm to tell her, but otherwise she'll let me deal with it. Which is a relief, because I can deal with him, but not her dealing with him. Anyway, after we finished talking I had to go be introduced to Stephanie, and then we larked. It wasn't too hot. I was sweating pretty profusely when we got home, though--I think it was just humid. Hm. Stephanie was still here but Philip hadn't come yet; I wandered off to computer-land.

Philip called to say he'd get here eventually, and tomorrow morning we're doing to do the Incline and then leaving for Nebraska. Sheesh. And then I started packing.

Father Paul came by this afternoon, and said goodbye to me before he left. I have to say, that was not someone I expected to get a hug from, but oh well. I let him get away with it, anyway.

Went over to the Seamans' before dinner to tell 'em I was leaving. Now those are people I like to get hugs from. Er. Ahem. Syd promptly went over to talk to Grandma (taking a glass of wine along to drink) and I followed her, after talking to Ralph for a bit. When I came back Syd said she'd been thinking about it, and she'd like to come along when we do the Incline and see how she felt doing that. So I'm to call her in the morning and see if she wants to come. Although unfortunately she doesn't want to do it with us. What's with all these people who don't stick together on a hike?

Larked after dinner. It was pretty nice out, albeit a bit buggy, and we only ran into one person. He was standing at the edge of the pond, and he told me he'd seen a turtle there earlier and was hoping to glimpse it again. Sounds like a good cause to me....

Whew. Just managed to get up on time, then lost time calling Lark, when of course she was playing with Isaac. Also there was no paper. And my dress needed a lot of ironing. In the end, I was dressed but not combed or shod when Liz rang the doorbell--fortunately a bit early. She talked to Grandma while I finished getting ready, and then Syd and Syd brought Lark home, as she'd been playing over there. The kids were going home, so Lark had to come home too.

We got to church in time--just before the announcements began, in fact. Pretty close. Pastor Reese gave a sermon on Mortification, as the last in the series on Sanctification. It was unprepared but still good, largely based on Romans 8 and John Owen. Liz liked that Owen was named for him. :p We stayed quite a while after the service, partly so everyone could chat but mostly, I think, because Mr. Debenedittis is an elder or something and had to help close up. There was one window stuck, because the rope had been derailed and then jammed in the pulley, and everyone stood around watching Ben try to get it loose with a screwdriver while the elders/deacons offered assistance and their families offered suggestions. It was pretty funny--and I think everyone restrained themselves, more or less. I mean, we kibitzed and heckled, but nicely.

After church Liz took me to the Debes' for lunch. Shawn and Matt Stickel were there too, but a bit more familiar with the ground, as Matt is dating, or engaged to, or something, Rachel Debenedittis, and Shawn is his dad. Actually, I think they're just dating but everyone expects them to marry, including the two of them, and it's pretty freely discussed. It's all pretty nice, although at this rate when Abby, and possibly Sarah, are dating, their elder sisters will not be nice. Er, they'll be mean, but probably nicely. Oh, and besides more or less getting the order of birth down, I found out that Abby is younger than me, which was a shock. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that all her sisters are older than me, and she's a lot like them, so I assumed she was older too? They all explained it to me as the youngest trying to keep up, which does make sense, and is at the same time somewhat related to my version above presented. Anyway, we all had lunch (after they fixed it, in which process guests are not permitted) and then everybody sat and talked for awhile. And then I got scolded for trying to help clear the table, and they drafted Mr. Debenedittis, who had hitherto been sitting and talking. For which I was razzed. Sorry-! But, again, nicely. Gah. This entire family is nice, I don't know if I can handle it. Anyway, Liz took me home about three-fifteen, to my immense regret, but I knew I had to leave sometime.......That actually sounds a lot like the larger situation here, too. Hm.

And then I spent some time on the computer and it occurred to me that I could probably try for a job at, say, sheep! magazine after I graduate, thus combining the interests. Hm.

Then I spent a couple of hours reading One Foot In the Grave, a mystery by Peter Dickinson set in a nursing home. I did this outside, while Lark wandered about as she pleased and I whistled periodically to indicate that, should she be within earshot and so inclined, her return would be perfectly acceptable. Then I went inside, read some more, had something to eat, and went out to look for her. It was rather an adventure, in spite of worrying, because I've never had a real excuse to be out in the dark before. There were too many deer to count, but few enough to categorize: the doe, when it was still light enough to identify her as the sick one (unless there are rather a lot of does in bad shape about), now recovering; the buck, above me on the hill, who observed (and listened to) me calmly until I came too close, at which point he began to move away. I've noticed that even if you can't see the antlers, you can still identify a buck by the way he holds his head, balancing. It was becoming very dark when I surprised rather a herd, making them flee, one by one and then all of them, out of a thick stand of brush, dark blurs bounding through the darkness. I came to the house that overlooks the Heller road, from the balcony of which a large dog barks at us. I came down its driveway to Eagle Rock, still calling every minute or so. I had not been on the road long when Lark came bustling up, wriggling about, for once my pleasure in seeing her equal to hers in seeing me.  Grandma told me she'd dropped by the house, without coming in, then gone to find me. I'd been considering ringing doorbells--it was, after all, only nine o'clock. There was enough light to see wherever I put my feet, but little beyond.

She wanders up to me now, diffidently, wondering if she's exhausted her credit for petting; I hold a hand out, and she comes to stand next to me as I rub her side. I'm getting a headache.

Larked late, but it was pretty cool out, so we survived. It was a quiet walk, much more peaceful than last night's dream, in which, besides various other hikers, we met several deer and some moose. Which Lark tried to chase--with what degree of success I have forgotten. I think my subconscious is having trouble remembering where it is, though-- CO home or NE home, as the numbers are labeled in my cell.

Spent most of the day reading, pretty much until dinner, although some laundry got done. I think. During dinner Isaac called to invite me over, and after dinner I did so. Played with him and Sydney for a bit, then sat through dinner with them. I had some grapes to occupy myself, or I probably would have had a second dinner. -_-; 

After dinner, and some discussion of who would go on Lark's walk, I came home to put my boots on and found a message from Liz Debenedittis to call her. So I did, and gave her directions (which sounded coherent to me--I hope so), and then Syd (senior), Isaac, and I went on a hike with Lark. Isaac was pretty obnoxious, I think because he was still mad about Sydney monopolizing me. I have yet to find a balance between them. Sigh. I need to learn how to do this. I think his other problem, somewhat, is that he wants to have fun with me the way he did the first time we played. Experiences, however, are impossible to replicate, and he's having a hard time trying. And since, as I think he sees it, that first time was me chasing him for being obnoxious, the best way to have it happen again is to be obnoxious. It's not working. Sigh. It is making his friend and his grandma mad at him, which makes him sulky and more obnoxious. Sigh. In the end it was very nearly full dark when we got home. We saw a doe and a buck when we were almost to the gate, and had a lovely view of the buck as he leapt the fence. Very nice.

I'm beginning to get into going-home mode. Sigh--I'll miss everyone here.