Cherry Saturday, October 26, 2019

Today is Hug A Sheep Day.

I’m a big fan of sheep because of yarn but also because they’re fuzzy and huggable and my rescue pup Mona looks like a little lamb. I hug Mona a lot. She was the runt of the litter and was born without kneecaps in her back legs which means she can’t jump, but she can run like the wind, or at least a very small rabbit, and she’s happiest dog I’ve ever owned and I adore her, so today for me it’s Hug A Mona Day.

Feel free to define “sheep” as most befits your life and hug something close to you.

39 thoughts on “Cherry Saturday, October 26, 2019

  1. I grew up on a sheep farm. Sheep are heavy and stupid and don’t smell great. Lambs, on the other hand, are bright and very huggable. The people in my life are neither sheep nor lambs but I’ll hug them anyway in honour of today.

    That’s a cute photo of Mona!

    14+
    1. My mom raised sheep when I was a teenager. I remember lambing in -40 weather. One year, my sister’s nasty old show ewe decided to lamb outside in the wind and the -40. I was outside moving around a bunch of ewes when I heard the most pathetic little bleating so I took off looking for it. I found the lamb, barely 5 minutes old, in the snow with mom nowhere near. It was a white-faced lamb, all our others had black faces, so I knew who it’s momma was. I was wearing 2 sweaters and a very oversized jean jacket with a white cotton lining so I grab the little guy and shove him under my jacket. I get him to the barn and Mom and I dry him off and we go to get the ewe who drops the twin lamb 6 feet from the barn door. I scooped him up and we went into the barn. Fast forward 2-3 years and I’m in university standing in line in the cafeteria with some friends who are all city kids when one of them asks me what the stain on the lining of my jacket was and when I said “sheep afterbirth” I got some funny looks.

      That’s my hug a sheep day story.

      39+
  2. As a teacher, I get lots of hugs from lots of children. This may be my only true perk of this job. So I’ll consider my hug cup full from my figurative lambs.

    16+
  3. I’m working on hugs from my DH and the cats. I fell and broke my leg last night, so between the hugs and the vicodin, I’ll make it through today.

    23+
    1. Ouch, ouch! Hope you’ll heal quickly and be spoiled like crazy by hubby and cats until you’re up and running again. Get well soon!

      14+
      1. Yes. Turns out there are four steps down to the garage, but I only stepped through three. Broken fibula. Splint now, cast monday. Working on my sucky upper body strength w crutches. Cant really recommend it.

        12+
          1. Left leg – and yes, I think I could run the sewing machine. Didn’t try that this weekend. 🙂 Thanks for thinking of the important things!

            4+
  4. We have neither puppies nor sheep nor students, but we have a catnip mat — one of those greenish striped doormats that you put inside the door to catch the last scraps of snow or whatever — and it is the favorite catnip spot for Mr. Fluffypants, who sits there pointedly when he wants a little relaxation. I put a pinch of catnip down on the mat, and he rolls about and purrs and looks happy.

    A few weeks ago, based on a suggestion from one of the crafty geniuses here, who mentioned sewing a kicker toy for a cat, I chanced on a stuffed catnippy toy at the pet store that called itself a kicker, and bought it for him.

    He attacked it wildly when it first appeared, just as the crafty genius said he would, but the catnip in it soon wore out, so I keep it in a plastic bag with some catnip inside, and when Mr. F. has reached the stage on his pinch of the nip where he looks a bit bored, I unwrap the toy from its bag and toss it to him, whereupon he has a wonderful attack break, hugging the toy and kicking it wildly with his back legs. Then he gets up, shakes himself off, and marches to the door to be let out into the world, a proud hero once more.

    So it’s been a good morning so far.

    23+
  5. The Welsh hills are thick with sheep. I let them know I’m coming by suggesting they flee in terror now – slowly – instead of startling when I’m right up to them. Can’t see any of them appreciating a hug. I did use to go to the farm up the hill and cuddle the odd lamb when I was a child. Lovely, but smelled of lanolin.

    My sister-in-law aborted her drive up here yesterday: she got stuck in the aftermath of a crash near Heathrow. So instead of relaxing with her, I’m proof-reading Italian (mostly) bibliographical entries. Not that I know more than a few words of Italian. Deciding on wall plants in my breaks.

    10+
  6. Mona is too adorable. She does look like a little lamb.

    I’m working on integrating the new foster fail kitten into the household. None of the other cats seems interested in hugging her, but she is pretty darn adorable, so I’ll probably do it for them.

    16+
  7. Everyone I want to hug is temporarily out of town so I am instead admiring the very long hug given to the very tall and very stiff Nationals pitcher Stephen Strasberg by his much shorter and outgoing teammates. Also their dugout dance parties where they revive such highschool standards as the sprinkler.
    Two of them also celebrate home runs by driving imaginary trucks. And their reliever Sean Doolittle celebrated their NCLS win light saber in hand by photobombing TV commentators looking vaguely like a 15Th c Scottish warrior.

    I don’t know who will win the Series but if there was an award for the team having the most fun all year its them.

    https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2019/10/24/nationals-had-dugout-dance-party-everyone-was-invited/%3foutputType=amp

    6+
  8. Our grandchildren are on their way down for an overnighter and when they get here the oldest greets us with arms opened wide and proclaiming “Hugs” to one and all.

    8+
  9. Ahhh, I have an abandoned painting I did of a dog who looks similar to Mona. I should pull it out and figure out why I abandoned it.

    Jenny, if you want to start painting again, why not start by painting your dogs or painting stories of your dogs?

    8+
  10. On both of my road trips in New Zealand, there were always sheep milling around in the middle of the road. They never did make the connection between pulling over and not being bothered, or killed, by those big, noisy, smelly things taking up their road…….Of course, you had to wonder about the shepherds, too.

    5+
  11. I’m hugging a healthier lifestyle by joining a local coop grocery store. Besides carrying the items and brands I was already buying at Whole Foods, the coop is almost exclusively organic and supportive of humane and environmentally sound practices. I especially like the option of bringing my own jars — they’ll weigh them at customer service — for bulk items.

    9+
  12. My parents once imported hand knitting yarn from England. When a stuffed sheep came into the toy shop where I worked, I immediately sent one to my Mom. She named it Ramsey and kept it for decades. It reminded her of working together with my Dad and all the sheep she had visited in Yorkshire, without being as dumb or smelly as the real thing.

    10+
  13. I owned a British Navy wool sweater once. Traded one of their chiefs a ship’s lighter (Zippo) and a Ball Cap (and some other stuff, maybe) for it during a visit to their submarine base in Faslane, Scotland. Amazing sweater, but it had a grease stain. The late wife ran it through the washer and dryer. Got out the stain, but it shrank a bit. Enough to be perfect for the oldest when he was a toddler, but we never again lived anywhere cold enough to wear it. Wearing that sweater was like hugging a flock.

    7+
  14. My daughter has a stuffed sheep, usually named Gummy (a boy), although at one point it was a girl named Eva. When she was 6, we stayed at a boutique hotel, courtesy of a friend, and Anastasia bounced into the hotel reception on Eva. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce. The reception watched her arrival with a big grin.

    But Office Wench Cherry reminds me, I did hold a real lamb! When I was pregnant with Max, Anastasia’s big brother. I walked to my friend’s house and sprained my ankle (fibula still intact; ouch for Nancy H!). I kept walking because I’m an idiot. When I got to Denise’s house, I put my foot up and held a newborn lamb who was too weak for the barn but seemed awfully snuggly to me.

    And JaneB reminds me that I used lanolin while breastfeeding both Max and Anastasia.

    Who knew that I had so many sheep-y memories! I hug my babies every day. Maybe I’ll sneak a quick one in for Gummy, who is the #1 pet with my little nieces as well.

    6+
  15. I don’t do people hugs if I can avoid them (wish more people understood that some people find hugs painful or otherwise uncomfortable so it’s good to ask first), but I make up for it in cat cuddles, and sometimes they are about as unappreciative as I am of people hugs, but mostly they’re good sports about it.

    7+
  16. The partner of a dear friend is having a c-section today, so hopefully I will be hugging someone – preferably my dear friend AND the baby.

    Many years ago when I lived in a share house one of my housemates was given an orphan lamb. We named her Pork Pie and she lived mostly inside with us and firmly believed she was human. We used to take her for walks on the beach, where she would chase the dogs – her high point was chasing an old English sheepdog, who ran away from her with a horrified expression.

    She was immensely huggable. Once she managed to get into a bag of wheat that we kept for the chickens (they lived outside), and swelled up dreadfully. We took her to the vet who put her on a drip, and she survived.

    12+
  17. I’m thinking I’ll hug some portion of my yarn stash. Since I don’t care for acrylic, it’s close, right?

    4+

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