Dear Callum, Derry, Niamh, Capri, Schnecke, Retro, Phoenix, Charlie Brown and Ernie,
I went to the showgrounds this weekend without you. It was odd, seeing your barn with the doors closed and your favorite arena empty (It looked to be in pretty good shape, by the way). No evil trailers with you-know-whats inside, nor anyone in the office to pop into that big window all scary-like. This was the weekend for Shepherds Harvest. Goats, yarn, sheep, yarn, llamas, yarn, dogs — and did i mention yarn?
It isn't as large or as well-known as the big boys out in Maryland and New Hampshire, but it's ours and it's great fun.
Since my last visit, two years ago, the organizers have spread everyone out across four buildings — more elbow room for all! — this is great for browsers with large shoulder bags (ask me how I know), but it makes it more difficult to show how many people were there. Apparently, the only thing more confounding than herding cats is herding people for a group shot:
There are judges here, too:
as well as down time for the riders, er, handlers.
Yooz guys aren't the only ones who have to learn to handle new situations. This little girl is learning to deal with it. Sound familiar? *cough* Callum *cough*
While I think you all have horns sometimes — or at least the attitude — I bet you can't match these. If I call you "Jacob," you'll know why:
Your cuteness and handsomeness and snarfle-y noses can not be beat. But these sweet things are giving you a run for the money:
The next time you're feeling inconvenienced, please think of this mama (um, perhaps it's time to graduate to a sippy cup):
And there's no reason to ever feel foolish in those pansy braids. This fella has a poodle cut!
And then, there's this:
Kinda puts a getting a bridle path in a new light, doesn't it.