wendy and i are middle aged. it's a weird thing to say, but i like the view from here. but. this week i got a cold and yesterday broke a tooth. last year wendy had a u.t.i. and a facial abscess where a tick had bitten her. and this week my class was either really good, or really rotten. funny how the mid winter blues affects us. today it's warm, above freezing and melting, but dreary. so, after work i took wendy for a treat, we drove through my bank's outside teller and wendy knows that this is good because they give her treats. (i don't buy treats. she eats really good food.) then she got to go to our little yarn shop, linsie woolsie and be top visiting herd dog in the land of wool. she got to take care of two new humans!
you'd think i'd adore this atmosphere, wonderful yarns, knitting stuff. and i do, except i'm not a knitter. oh, i can knit, but i don't have any of the delight my daughter (who works there) has in knitting. following a pattern is excruciating and impossible for me. instead i look at the yarns and marvel at the ways industrially spun fiber echos my handspun, hand dyed, and in some periods of my life, self shorn fiber. i raised a small flock of black sheep, some angora rabbits, and two mohair goats. while i loved handling the animals and working with them, i wasn't much at making the flock pay for itself. all this points to the fact that i'm a process person, not so interested in the product, but the making itself.
and for wendy, it's all about the work of keeping her people safe and happy. she's no angel (she takes unexpected, illegal "toots" around the neighborhood from time to time, and comes home burdock ridden and tired. but she always comes home.