Last night we had scary thunderstorms. Non-stop lightening with rumbles overlapping rumbles and bangs. The night was hot and breathless. In the morning the corn was half down in the garden and Crazy Chief, our little standard bred horse, was down in the slippery wet stall. At the age of 21 he still has weak hind legs from an old trotting injury he had at the age of 4. After untangling his legs we were able to haul him out of the stall, over the board walk and onto the lawn with our truck and a big wide strap. He was in incredible pain as the strap cut into his sides but thankfully we moved him. He lay there looking exhausted, his eyes half closed. Pete and I were standing there over him pondering the worst when in an instant, defying our gloomy thoughts, he popped up on all fours with more vigor than I’d seen in him for months.
So the day had a rough start. I welcomed my precious morning time spent with coffee and wool of some sort. I usually can count on getting strength from the fibers. But this morning I wondered if my bleariness would stick through the 94 degree day. But sure enough, as I started to hook my rug - using pieces cut up from a shirt I bought at a street sale with my daughter in NYC, strips of blanket from my childhood home, deep red from my mother’s woolen cape and hand spun yarn from out sheep’s fleeces dyed with goldenrod and burdock, I felt the strength come back to be with the day. Okay I’ll admit, part of it comes from the caffeine but it feels deeper and more powerful than that!