Glorious greens fill every view. Sparkling, juicy, saturated, verdant, lush . . . all my green adjectives fail to express this land's explosive response to serious rain. As Nettie sang in Carousel, "June is bustin' out all over!" (Although our corn remains far short of the "elephant's eye" in Curley's Oklahoma!)
That recent moisture, the passage of time, and a few days away from 24/7 reminders of Weed have encouraged me to emerge from sadness and anger and choose optimism. My getaway was five days in Gillette, WY at the National Columbia Sheep Show and Sale, traveling and sharing expenses with two friends who also raise Columbia sheep. We lugged bags of fleece with us, four from Eller ewes to be used in a skills contest for junior Columbia Association member and two from one of my companions to enter in the competitive wool show. Those latter two earned 1st Place Ewe, 1st Place Ram, and Overall Grand Champion fleece awards. That Montana sweep of the fleece show and our relentless evaluation of the show sheep as a threesome led us to be referred to as The Montana Mafia. We enjoyed touching base with MSU's former sheep specialist as he ultrasound scanned ribeye areas of the production ewes and rams. We spent the better part of a long afternoon at a remote ranch south of Gillette to look at a pen of impressive Columbia non-show rams. We enjoyed pricey dinners out, followed by M & M's before bed. None of us followed news from D.C. The break was much-needed by all three of us and we all found sheep to bring home. Of the four I sought, all exceeded my price ceiling during the auction, but I negotiated for a fifth one, a yearling ewe from the same producer as the four that were too rich for my pockets. (Now, a week later, that ewe remains in the trailer parked under a tree while I continue efforts to win her acceptance. She tolerates me as her sole source of feed and water, but does not appreciate my overtures of companionship. I'm thick skinned, however, and unfazed by her selective rejection. In five days, she gets a second dose of pour-on insecticide; then, and only then, can she join companions more to her liking. In the meantime, I shall persevere with my efforts.)
Bidding at the banquet fund raiser was brisk and I was tickled with the price paid for my donated drawing and painting. Equally pleasing to me was a commission that resulted from my donation. After the auction, a woman from Illinois, unknown to me, told me that she loved my watercolor and asked if I would paint a similar piece based on the sort of sheep that she raises--Dorpers. She subsequently sent photos and I have been immersed in efforts to capture the sturdy heft of a Dorper ewe with twin lambs on my new favorite gesso-coated paper. I may need to tone down the blues and purples on the ewe's nose and the center lamb's head, add a hint of foot on the ewe's currently-hidden hind leg, reveal a bit more of hooves in the foreground, tweak here, add a shadow there . . . but this is the state of the project as of today.
That recent moisture, the passage of time, and a few days away from 24/7 reminders of Weed have encouraged me to emerge from sadness and anger and choose optimism. My getaway was five days in Gillette, WY at the National Columbia Sheep Show and Sale, traveling and sharing expenses with two friends who also raise Columbia sheep. We lugged bags of fleece with us, four from Eller ewes to be used in a skills contest for junior Columbia Association member and two from one of my companions to enter in the competitive wool show. Those latter two earned 1st Place Ewe, 1st Place Ram, and Overall Grand Champion fleece awards. That Montana sweep of the fleece show and our relentless evaluation of the show sheep as a threesome led us to be referred to as The Montana Mafia. We enjoyed touching base with MSU's former sheep specialist as he ultrasound scanned ribeye areas of the production ewes and rams. We spent the better part of a long afternoon at a remote ranch south of Gillette to look at a pen of impressive Columbia non-show rams. We enjoyed pricey dinners out, followed by M & M's before bed. None of us followed news from D.C. The break was much-needed by all three of us and we all found sheep to bring home. Of the four I sought, all exceeded my price ceiling during the auction, but I negotiated for a fifth one, a yearling ewe from the same producer as the four that were too rich for my pockets. (Now, a week later, that ewe remains in the trailer parked under a tree while I continue efforts to win her acceptance. She tolerates me as her sole source of feed and water, but does not appreciate my overtures of companionship. I'm thick skinned, however, and unfazed by her selective rejection. In five days, she gets a second dose of pour-on insecticide; then, and only then, can she join companions more to her liking. In the meantime, I shall persevere with my efforts.)
Bidding at the banquet fund raiser was brisk and I was tickled with the price paid for my donated drawing and painting. Equally pleasing to me was a commission that resulted from my donation. After the auction, a woman from Illinois, unknown to me, told me that she loved my watercolor and asked if I would paint a similar piece based on the sort of sheep that she raises--Dorpers. She subsequently sent photos and I have been immersed in efforts to capture the sturdy heft of a Dorper ewe with twin lambs on my new favorite gesso-coated paper. I may need to tone down the blues and purples on the ewe's nose and the center lamb's head, add a hint of foot on the ewe's currently-hidden hind leg, reveal a bit more of hooves in the foreground, tweak here, add a shadow there . . . but this is the state of the project as of today.
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