Meet the new arrivals

This is Sixpence, Octavia and Sally our new Gotlands. We got them yesterday from Sue Blacker of the Natural Fibre Company. They're very sweet sheep and I'm really looking forward to using their lovely fleece. We've had so many things die this year that we're struggling to keep up with the grazing. Hopefully these will help a bit.



It wouldn't be a normal Cledry post if there wasn't some doom and gloom though. While we were picking up the sheep yesterday the dog was at the vet. The night before he came in from having a pee unable to use one of his back legs. The emergency vet said wait until the next day to take him in, so we took him straight after the kids were dropped at school. We had to leave him there and when we got back from North Cornwall there was a message on the ansaphone saying he's fractured his hip and needs an operation. Estimated cost in excess of £300. We already have an outstanding bill of nearly £200 with them for the palaver with the cow. It's fair to say that it tipped me over the edge a bit as it's been nothing but bills, rising costs and bad news for what seems like the whole of this year. They won't let us pick him up unless we pay half the bill. My mum has offered to give us £100 towards it - it's like bail! I'm starting to wonder if life is trying to tell me something. Every day seems like a battle right now and it's exhausting. Yesterday felt like I was back at square one with the M.E/Fibro. People will still come round and tell me how lucky I am though. Idiots.

That sparks a thought that perplexes me from time to time. What is it about people that they are convinced that everyone else is better off than them? Either financially, emotionally, whatever. When I first got M.E and everything ground to a halt I had people saying 'Oh but you've got this lovely house' as if that negated the fact that my body had decided to stop working. 'This lovely house' is rented - for an extortionate amount and just finding the rent each month is a full time job. It doesn't seem to matter what happnes to me, someone else has to be worse off. I don't know if it's a Cornish thing or a general 'people thing. My husband noticed it the other day. The butcher asked him how he was and he explained about the cow and his broken ribs and the fact that it seems something is dying on the holding on a daily basis and the fact that we're clearing out the penny jar to buy food and the butcher said 'Oh I know what you mean, I've had terrible trouble with my van'. WTF?? It seems like a competition to see who's the worst off. I'm not one for sitting back and wallowing - if we have a problem I try to sort it out. Trouble is people see that seeming ability to cope as 'being lucky'. I work fucking hard to get us through one day/month to the next and occasionally I could do with a bit of support. All I get is people telling me I'll be alright/I'm lucky/I'm not as badly off as them. Sometimes you just want someone to say 'That sounds like shit'. Tbh that's why I spend more time on the internet than I do with 'real' people. The internet community is much more supportive than my real life 'friends'. People. I've had enough of them.



Now for something completely different. I've knitted some tiny socks for my Grandson to Be. They know he's a boy and have decided to call him Tiernan. Lovely name isn't it? They live in Dublin so I'll be posting these off soon.




















I haven't knitted any baby stuff for years and the realisation that I have a tiny person to knit for again is slowly sinking in. I'm really looking forward to it. The socks were a 36 st cast on and I think they may be a bit big. I might try a 30 st cast on and see if that's better.






On the felt front, I'm struggling to find any eyelets to put in the jewellery that don't just fall straight out. I could embroider round the holes but that adds time (and consequently ads to the price). I dunno - anyone got any ideas?