Hello Reader,

This morning I received a gift.

It wasn’t handed to me or delivered in the mail. It didn’t have a card attached with precious or timely words.

It was, in reality, just a few moments. But I’d like to preserve them somehow, to bring out again when needed. I’m sure that I will.

All of us have those times where the road is more speedbump and pothole than smooth pavement. The weight of the world is a bit much. Worries seem to multiply, and energy slips away as burdens mount.

I remember being a younger, more naive woman, trying to out-cheerful myself out of the funks. I had strategies.

I could plan myself out of them. Lists would help. Plans, charts, schedules. If I could see the path to getting everything accomplished, I could logistically prove to myself that everything would be fine. Sometimes it helped.

Often, I’d come up with something to look forward to. What bright spot might be ahead on the calendar? I could focus on a holiday, a celebration, a sports event, a visit, and maybe ignore the low rumblings going on in the background.

My best trick was to give myself a good talking-to. I have so much to be thankful for. Truly. Focus on that, young lady. Never mind whatever’s tugging at your mind or heart at the moment.

I don’t know if you can relate to any of those, or if they worked better for you than they did for me, but I can only report mild success. Call it temperament, personality, or something else, sometimes the speedbumps and potholes get the upper hand.

I’m finding myself noticing these periods creeping up like dusk. Rather than fussing about it for another hour of daylight to play in like I might have as a child, I’m learning to read the change in light as a sign of change.

I don’t have to like it. I also don’t have to fight it. It is. It comes to everyone. And it won’t last forever.

This morning I spent time at the farm, in the sunlight, watching the baby chicks. They did nothing more than exist, oblivious to anything more troublesome than how full their feeder looks. It never ceases to amaze me how animals’ obliviousness to human concerns can be so comforting. If you ever needed an object lesson that “life goes on,” watch a bunch of three-week-old chicks putter around a brooder for a while.

Yet that time, comforting as it was, wasn’t the gift I mentioned before. That came when I left.

As I was going home, I drove past the north paddock where the Valais ewes and the Hooligans (the lambs) have been grazing. I needed to check carefully because yesterday Frederick had gotten himself on the wrong side of the fence. The day before, his partner in crime Lucas had shown him how it was done.

I didn’t see any brown lambs on the wrong side of the fence, but I did see one lying down on the ground, absolutely still. Experienced sheep people know there’s a game that sheep like to play with their keepers called “Am I Sleeping or Am I Dead?” (Seriously. You can google this and there are videos.)

Let’s just say my mental state was such that I wasn’t necessarily expecting a happy video ending to the pasture walk I found myself making.

However, it only took a few yards in for all the sheep to pop to attention and face me. There was this ridiculous band of mixed sheep, all looking at me like “What?! We’re grazing here.”

I squatted down to sheep-height and just appreciated the moment. They’re fine. Everyone’s as fine as they can be for the moment. And really, that’s all I can ask for.

And then came the gift.

First Betsy and Eliza, and then the whole crew walked forward. All the lambs, even the slightly skittish Harriet, Lucas, and Frederick, gathered around for pets, nudges, and scritches. The Valais ewes formed up behind them, and we all huddled up together, in close contact, for a few moments in the shade.

If a prey animal (horse, rabbit, sheep, etc.) chooses to be near you, it is often because you have something it very much wants (food!) or because it has determined you are safe. And there is something incredibly validating to a human to be designated as “safe” by an animal who is essentially defenseless. (If you're curious, there's fascinating work being done with animals in therapeutic settings.)

Did my little flock make all my worries and troubles disappear? Nope. But for a few priceless moments, they made me know that all was right in this little piece of the world.

What a gift.

Greg's Got Questions

Thank you to those of you who participated in the poll last week.

Last week’s winning question was: Supposing we did want to have “name badges” for each member of The Regiment, how might we go about doing that? How does an aspiring Chicken Shepherd mark these ridiculously interesting egg factories?

Have no fear, Aspiring Chicken Shepherd! The marketplace has us covered. It looks like most poultry keepers use leg bands. They come in different colors, in plastics and some metals, and are often numbered. So just like our sheep were given ear tags, we can give The Regiment ID tags and assign them each an official number. We can even color code them if we like.

I don’t know yet if chickens are as adept or as committed as sheep at removing their tags.

This Week's Questions

(As a matter of procedure, the poll function takes you to another page to submit your vote, so if that happens to you, you’re on the right track!)

Question 1. How would you explain the transition you made from your younger self who felt like you needed to force yourself out of “the funks” to the mindset you have now? What encouragement would you give to readers who also want to make changes in this area?

Question 2. What have you done to create the environment in which our sheep feel safe around you and how can we apply those techniques to better serve the people in our lives?

Question 3. This one is for those who haven’t met you in real life and aren’t aware of your height, or lack thereof. In inches, what is the change in elevation for you when you “squat down to sheep-height?”

Happy knitting!

Kiersten J

P.S. Pemberley Correspondence is beginning its first season this fall. Each month I’ll tuck a letter and a few small pieces of Pemberley into an envelope and send them your way.

If that sounds lovely, I’d love to have you join us.

P.P.S. You can find this and more of my knitting journal entries at KierstenJ.com.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to reply to this email! I read every one!