I think I bought a house


I didn’t want to mention this until I was mostly through the process, but I’m under contract on my very first house! The inspection turned up no major issues, the appraisal is done, the loan is approved, and the closing date and time are set, so I think I may even get it!

Mine is the green one on the left.

Built in 1925, it is a two bedroom bungalow. The place is in fairly good shape, has a new roof, insulation, furnace and water heater. I’m not in love with the finishes the seller used, but that’s the fun part! She’s done all the hard work for me.

The second bedroom is so going to be my craft room. It has great light. I’ll see if I can fit a day bed in there too, so when my friends visit they don’t have to sleep on the couch! Eee!

This picture was taken in 1948. It's on file with the local historical society.

I’ve got a week and a half until closing, and I haven’t even started packing. Turns out I’m more attached to my rundown apartment than I thought I was. Actually, that shouldn’t be a surprise. I hate change so much I tried to refuse the new computer my work is trying to foist on me. 🙂

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Ruminating on poo


I’ve decided not to include any pictures, because I’m classy, but I’m warning you now: this is a post about poo. When you spend so much time shuffling it from place to place, you tend to become an expert. And frankly, it’s interesting. Poo that originates in herbivores does not gross me out like omnivore or carnivore poo.

First off, the alpacas all poo in the same spot! Very, very convenient, if you are the one who has to clean up after them. Our ‘pacas have a spot inside, one in the paddock, and one in turnout. Immediately after we finish cleaning, they all run over from wherever they are, and take turns pooing in the freshly cleaned spot. Weird. I can only figure it is some sort of defensive mechanism, meant to mask their movements or numbers.

Alpacas have particularly inoffensive poo. They have efficient digestive systems, and their waste can be used immediately as fertilizer, without lengthy composting. I suspect it has something to do with them being ruminants, with chambered stomachs. They chew, swallow, regurgitate, chew again, and re-swallow, like cows and their cud. I’m a bit out of my depth here, but I think alpacas only have three chambers in their stomachs, and cows have four, but the process is similar.

Horses are NOT ruminants. Personally, I kind of wish they were. Any minor gastrointestinal upset has the potential to become life threatening with a horse, because they have very persnickety systems. We compost horse poo, which keeps it from burning the fields when we spread it in the spring and fall.

Heidi, Mom’s horse, is prone to using poo as a statement. Back when we first got her, she would poo in her water tank nearly every day. We’re not sure what exactly she was punishing us for, but she clearly wasn’t happy with something. It took some maneuvering to get herself in position for that one.

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Just doing his job, Ma’am


Mom was cleaning the barn the other morning (number of times I’ve used that phrase in a blog post: 4), and the kitties were gallivanting about, engaged in the usual cat pursuits. You know, running back and forth in the barn erratically, crawling around under the hay bales, doing backflips in the driveway for no particular reason, getting up in the rafters, and so on. She’d filled up her tub and was on her way to dump it in the wagon, when Whisper brought her his very first ‘offering’.

Proudly, he dragged it to the back of the barn and dropped it at her feet. When Mom reacted, “Oh Whisper! Oh no! Just…no!” he blinked in surprise. He begged to differ. Dead mice were sort of his thing, after all. “But Whisper,” Mom argued, “You’re supposed to kill them, not bring me the ones Honey has killed.” Gingerly, she retrieved the mouse trap and its long dead occupant, as Whisper sauntered off. He’d dragged the trap all the way from the garage (Dad doesn’t set traps in the barn any more, worried about tender feline noses) and he was pretty sure it was a job well done. A dead mouse is a dead mouse, after all, never mind who killed it.  🙂

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A few of the alpacas’ least favorite things


The alpacas are slowly coming to terms with the newest and loudest resident of the barn, Whisper the attack cat.

As the bravest of the kitties, he is the only one who has jumped out into the paddock to investigate the alpacas face to face. Instead of trying to stomp him to bits, which is Merlin’s default behavior with knee-high scurry-ers, or running and hiding in the farthest corner (Tuscaninnny’s MO for nearly everything), they all just stood in a line and stared at him. Or, more accurately, they looked back and forth between Whisper and Mom, trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing about him.

Since this is yet another post that I almost started with “Alpacas don’t like XYZ”, I was inspired to start a list of the things our ‘pacas do and don’t like. I’m sure I’m forgetting a dozen things, but here are my observations so far.

At least some (but seldom all) of the alpacas really like:
1) Carrots
2) Crumbles
3) Sprinklers
4) Snow
5) Alfalfa

All of the alpacas don’t like:
1) Dogs
2) Un-identified rodents
3) Strangers (especially tax assessors)
4) Loud noises
5) Wind
6) Family members associated with dogs (me)
7) Rain
8) Coyotes

I’m sure there are more for each list…can anyone think of what I’m forgetting? The coffee has not kicked in yet.

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Annnd…finally, yarn


Goodness this yarn has taken forever to get done! I’ve finally finished around 250 yards of lace weight suri alpaca yarn, from Archie’s fleece.

I love this weight of yarn, it’s the thinnest I can make. The suri fiber gives it nice drape, as well. But I think part of the reason it has taken so long is that it is hard on me to spin. The fiber is soft, but the singles cut into my hands and give me rope burn.

I have a callus on my right index finger that is so thick it makes using touch screens difficult. It’s really annoying to have a dead patch of skin like that on the tip of my finger. Anyway, it’s all part of the experience, I guess.

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Crafting zone?


I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a space usable, probably because I’m hoping to have space of my very own soon and I want to include a crafting room. Right now, my craft “zone” is functional, but kind of lackluster. Tucked between the kitchen table and the living room, it does have everything I need. I have all my tools at hand and neatly organized, music (in the form of the laptop and speakers), tv, and the table for extra work space.

My favorite color is blue, in case you didn’t know, but I chose to do this area in green. Green combines cool and balanced blue with energetic yellow, so I think of it as creative color. But beyond color coordination and organization, it’s not very inspiring. I decorate my desktop at work with more care.

I stuck with green here too and included plenty of potted plants for life. Computer programming is actually a quite creative process, so I do my best to foster that by keeping inspiration close at hand, in the form of pictures and posters of the outdoors (I work at a Natural Heritage program).

So I’m thinking my new craft area should be more than just functional (and green). Perhaps a cork board for pinning up random yarn samples that I have stashed away, or clear/open storage for my colored rovings. Seeing and handling the fiber is usually what inspires me, so I’m hoping that by having it out, I’ll want to work on it more.

Any thoughts from the audience? What does your craft/work zone look like? Do you include things to inspire you? What things? If you had a million dollars (which I don’t, but it’s pretend time), what would your ideal craft space look like? Marble floors and Corinthian columns? Rustic wood panelling and a rocking chair? Quilts? Plants? Fine art?

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It’s getting all medieval up in here


Sometimes a yarn just doesn’t want to be spun. I have mentioned before that I’m less than inspired to spin lately. Well, when a friend came over to knit, it seemed like the perfect time to finish the suri alpaca yarn I started at least a month ago. Circumstances conspired to make it more difficult.

First, there was Derby. He just did not want me to pay attention to anything but him. I’ve learned how to spin around him, although it is not the easiest thing to do. Eventually I pushed him off my lap and switched to Aunt Geri’s wheel, which spins faster for plying.

And then Aunt Geri’s wheel broke. The footman, which attaches the treadle (the foot pedal) to the wheel, splintered. Luckily, the wheel is big enough that it has some serious inertia. I turned the wheel with my hand, and it kept going for a little while so I could ply. It took me longer, but I finished the yarn eventually.

There was a time when all spinning wheels were turned by hand. These huge wheels had enough weight to spin for awhile, and the spinner would start them turning, then walk over to the other side to draft for a while. They are called great wheels, or walking wheels, because you had to walk back and forth in front of them.

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Whisper gets into everything


The ironically named Whisper is apparently quite the explorer. He’s gotten into nearly everything there is to get into, and even been chased by Heidi. His friend Squeaky, the last of the rescue kitties, may be bigger but Whisper’s got enough personality for two cats.

I’ll have spinning updates tomorrow, but I’m fighting a headache this morning.

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Morocco and Bravado weigh in on birthdays


There’s something about the way an alpaca looks at you that speaks volumes. They make great messengers for nearly anything you want to tell someone, so Mom and Dad have started making birthday cards for friends that feature our ‘pacas. They’re a hoot.

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(front of card)

Really? Seriously? Another Birthday?

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(inside card)

Statistics show that people who have the most birthdays, live the longest.

Birthdays are good for you.

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I promise, she’s really excited


Alpacas are mild animals. Even at their most playful, it’s hard to tell they are really having fun unless you know them. For example, Tulip, loves to play in sprinklers and in the snow. Her little dance is the height of adult alpaca playfulness, although the babies are much  more dynamic. They play “bump and run”, a game that is exactly what it sounds like: they run around and bump into each other. But the adults generally don’t get involved in anything other than eating, kushing, and sounding the alarm over threatening rodents.

Here, I’ll show you. In this short video, Tulip is at her most playful for a few seconds before Brittany bothers her and she realizes she has an audience. Unless you really know her and the rest of the herd, though, it just looks like she’s kicking some snow around.

Odd animals, aren’t they?

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