It’s still dark outside, but I finished sleeping, so I got up, ate breakfast, and am now at the computer. Maddie died Friday afternoon on her own, peacefully, Kat, I’m happy to say. I resisted calling the neighbor, since she really didn’t appear to be in pain, and allowed her to die in her own time. Had she looked pained, or had other complications, I would have called him, but given the choice, I like the idea of a natural, painfree, attended death. (Read “Dying Well” by Dr. Ira Byock!) So, I sat with her a lot that day, in between other chores, and talked to her and scratched her ears and petted her and thanked her for all the lambs and fleeces she’s given me over the years. And finally, she stopped breathing, and drifted away. She is now in the process of becoming one with the earth, courtesy of the compost pile. It was tough: always is with death, I think. But it felt good and right and somehow, holy. She enriched my life in many ways, as do all the animals and plants on this farm, and I am grateful. They seem to give me so much more than I give them.
Today, a woman whose husband bought my extra spinning wheel for her a year ago as a surprise, is coming with her two homeschooled daughters, 9 and 11, for an afternoon of spinning and talking. I am looking forward to spending time with them.
And I continue spinning, trying to spin a spindle of yarn a day, which takes a couple of hours at the least. So far, I’m keeping up, but mostly, I think, because I’ve been listening to the Janet Evanovitch books on tape. The murders have started getting a little too gruesome, however, so I think it’s time to switch to Harry Potter, my all time favorite tapes. I never tire of them.