Sunday, November 17, 2019

selling images not goats*


Remember around this time last year, when I made an assortment of blank greeting cards and matching 4x6-inch magnets, showcasing some of the very photogenic Cloud Harvest gang?


Well, as 2019 rolls to a close, I'd like to offer the remaining stock at a reduced price.
In case anyone would like one. Or more than one.


In the past year, I've sold the card-and-magnet packs for $15. 
and the magnets alone for $10.


Now, for a limited time or until they are all gone:
the card-and-magnet packs are $10 and the magnets alone are $5
postage within the US included.


I will be happy to send them internationally,
but I will ask the buyer to pay any postage over the amount the US domestic mail would cost for the same package. That seems fair to everyone, I hope.


The magnets are 4x6 inches, the cards (blank inside) are a hair bigger,
so the magnets can be mailed inside the cards as a little gift.


The cards are already packaged with magnets and I don't want to reopen the clear, compostable envelopes, so I don't plan to sell cards separately. Or we could say, a card alone is now $10. and you'll receive a matching magnet at no additional cost :)


If you are interested, just email me at
with your selection and I'll follow up with an email within a day.


Please note: I have more of some images than others, so first come, first served.


By the way, the back of each card looks like this:

*About the title of this post:
I have recently declined multiple requests to sell goats, although it certainly would have made economic sense to sell livestock just now as we head into Winter - the most expensive time to keep an animal even under the best circumstances.
It felt like the right decision not to sell the goats, but it did occur to me I might put a teensy bit more effort into helping them support themselves through the sale of cards and the like.
I tend to be a little low-key about things like this. Very low-key. Almost silent and invisible, in fact. So this post is probably as "hey everybody! big sale now!" as will appear on the blog. To be honest, I feel a little awkward about even this, but if it works, well...
at least I'm selling images, not goats.
Thanks :)

Saturday, November 16, 2019

saturday shuffle

Wednesday was a very, very long day.
Thank you all for your kind thoughts!
They helped.

Thursday likewise, but at home: non-stop working about the place, with a couple of hours of able assistance from my Occasional Helper.
Yesterday ditto, except without the able assistance. But with the electrician,
who restored power to the outbuildings, one month after the storm and the fallen tree.

HUZZAH!!! No more frozen water buckets!

I've been so very tired, and totally "done" when evening chores are finished.
Too tired to eat. Too tired to sleep - which is such a weird thing,
but I'll bet you've experienced it too.

Today I'm hoping to get back into a rational rhythm, so to speak.

I'm starting by posting these snaps of recent #DailyMarkmaking efforts.
Some nights it's been literally just a scribble - I'll spare you those! -
and these are terrible snaps, I'm sorry.
But if I wait to take more, it will be tomorrow. Or Monday.
So I'm just going to post them here and keep moving.
I won't be moving fast - or "fast enough" according to the goats - 
but I shall continue to creep along and get somewhere eventually.


Wednesday, November 13, 2019

almost wordless wednesday

I'm going to be away for most of Wednesday, for a doctor's appointment an hour East and several errands on the way there and back. Morning chores will be done early and evening chores will be done late.

So now, at 1 AM on Wednesday, I'm uploading three photographs taken on Tuesday, all within a few minutes of the sun going down. And I'll see you on Thursday, I hope.


Tuesday, November 12, 2019

hazel catkin

Azalea's daughter, Hazel Catkin, is dressed for Winter
even though she has never seen Winter before.

 Hazel is a sweet goat, and reminds me of her mother as a youngster.
Last summer she would only eat her oats if I held the pan for her.
I would sit in my sketching chair, directly in front of the massive barn fan, holding the pan. Hazel would trot right over - she knew the bigger goats couldn't steal her supper while I was there, so she really relaxed and enjoyed her oats and a bit of attention. For me, it was the best ten minutes of many a day last summer.

Today, when I enlarged the above photograph, I had to laugh:

She reminds me of a kitten who got distracted while having a wash
and forgot to put her tongue away.

I wish I could breed Hazel next year, but I won't ever breed her nor will I breed Azalea again, as much as I love the qualities and personalities of both. You may recall that Azalea had a problem with a weak horn when she was a baby, and to my dismay, both her kids have had a similar issue - one weak horn that, in the general rough and tumble of babygoat life, would sometimes get banged and bleed a bit, and possibly break at the tip before gradually becoming strong and solid. As the goat - and the horns - grow, one horn remains shorter than the other. It becomes only a cosmetic difference, but still, it's not a trait I want to risk perpetuating.

So there we are.
Two of my nicest does, neither of whom will be adding offspring to the herd.

This is just the way things go when it comes to breeding animals.
There are sometimes disappointments, and losses, and hard decisions.
I try to focus on the positives.

Here's my favorite photograph of Azalea.
Notice anything?


Saturday, November 9, 2019


Less than a week ago, with several days of rain predicted,
I headed to the terrace garden to pick a few zinnias.

Since midsummer I've had a few zinnias in a range of sizes, shapes, and colors, in little vases and jam jars around the house. The flowers last for days in water, and sometimes even change color as they begin to - well, I was going to write "fade" but when a flower turns from a coral-rose to purple, it isn't really "fading," is it?

With so much rain predicted in the first week of November, I thought that might be the last handful of zinnias I would be carrying up to the house in 2019. And it was.

Thanks for another grand year, zinnias!

It was just last year, when on a whim I started some zinnias from seed in the tiny greenhouse, that I discovered how generous and joyous these plants are. Many of those tiny seedlings were eaten by insects before I could get them into the garden, but the plants that survived just grew and bloomed and grew and bloomed, right into late Autumn. They were one of my greatest joys in the 2018 gardens.

The bees and other pollinators certainly enjoyed them, too.

All day, every day: bees on the zinnias.

I saved some of the dried flower heads at this time last year, and planted the seeds this Spring. I planted a single row of seeds. That was all.
And all summer, I was greeted with:

The plants grew two to three feet tall, and branched out to form a wide row.
I ran a line of soft rope at knee-height along the the row, to help support them.
Maybe next year I'll make a little picket fence just for the zinnias.
Because I'm saving seed again this year.

Of course.