Our quiet day turned out to be a sad but kind morning. Our oldest sheep, Biddy, is the last of the four Remarkable Romneys we rescued in 2016.

They were in rough shape, and their fur mattered; we had to chase them all over a farm to catch them and get them into some cars so they could get to the farm.

They settled in instantly; their fur was beautiful, they gave our Border Collie Red a run for his money,  they were not used to obeying a dog. Red prevailed, as he always did. Biddy never gave us a moment’s struggle, she began losing weight last year, and we’ve been adding some grain to her hay feed.

Biddy, my favorite sheep, had a natural and easy death; she was found in a corner of the barn.

Mike Conklin is coming over shortly to help us get her out into the deep woods; we are returning her to nature and the forest animals, as is our way. We are lucky to know him and work with him.

So long, Biddy, you were a great sheep.

I will think of you often; you have the most photo-friendly face of any sheep I’ve had, and  I loved taking her picture.

I am so grateful to our farm; I’m always learning about life and death, which has made me a wiser and more patient human.

Biddy was close to 12 years old when she died. She acted like the Queen of the pasture, and I knew something was wrong yesterday when she kept coming up to me at the gate and staring at me.

I have always believed that the sheep here let me know when they are done in one way or another.

My cannabis situation improved immediately yesterday.

My cannabis provider (Sleep Gummies) had her New York license temporarily withdrawn, and as often happens with change, something as good or better is just around the corner.

I found a new and impressive provider near Bennington, New York.

Several people wondered why I didn’t just order some more cannabis online, but I like to see who is selling these sleep gummies to me and talk to them about it.

I want to know more about what I am doing, and I know I can be addictive at times.

I also like to see what I am buying, and paying with cash doesn’t trouble me. I used to do it all the time, and it’s not a real sacrifice. What do I care what form I use to buy my cannabis?

So, just hours later, I found a better place to buy it and good people to buy it from, people I know. My new seller is in Bennington, Vt, just over the border from my town. I liked the people I met working there very much.

I slept like a dream on the new stuff for seven hours last night. I haven’t done that in years, if ever.

I have a friend who sells cannabis in northern Vermont; he told me as a new user, it would be helpful to find a seller I  can meet and trust and can ask questions about.

I’ve looked through a dozen good websites, but in this case, I like to do things directly with a human I know and a container I can see.

Once I’m comfortable with it all – I’m very comfortable now – I can find different ways to buy it. I’m not doing this online, knowing myself, not at the beginning.

Some people find that odd but I am odd. It’s exciting; has a whiff of illegality and mystery around it. I half expect federal agents to come busting in and grab my cannabis.

Lots of people have been using cannabis for years now.

Everyone has their way of doing things; I love that idea about America, even though there is no end of people telling me what I should be doing and what I already know.

That’s how it is; I’m learning to accept it, listen, and make decisions.

Being a lifelong outsider, I do most things differently than most people. Social media has made me more confident and protective of my identity.

That’s not something I can or would share with others. I’m not like everyone else and have never been impressed with the idea that I should do what other people do because they do it.

I wonder if I will ever really like or absorb advice from strangers I didn’t ask for. So far, no.

We expect a good-sized storm tomorrow, nothing dramatic or life-altering. We’ve had sheep die on and off for 15 years. We know how to do it.

I asked the electric company to stop sending me messages warning that old people should stay inside and avoid shoveling.

I didn’t ask them for their opinion; I wrote and told them that. Just power the farmhouse, I asked, and leave my life decisions to me.

It seems to have shut them up.

Biddy gave Red a hard time, but he was always very gentle with her, and they eventually worked it out with one another.

Mike and Maria dragged Biddy down the hill and out into the woods. This is the last we will see of her. The coyotes and vultures will do the rest.

We have learned much about death living on the farm; death is a constant companion here. It helps us deal with the world’s realities and the different things mercy can mean.

 

Biddy was taken out into the woods where one of our lambs was taken when he died suddenly.

We’re greatful that she didn’t suffer and died naturally and peacefully. So the wheel turns and turns here on the farm. We expect three or four other sheep to die in the next few years; Maria is committed to having sheep and selling their yarn, an essential element in our lives here.

There’s no need to message us about Biddy, although I always appreciate kind words..It’s not a crisis or tragedy; it’s just life. She had a great life, and she enhanced ours.

I couldn’t help much in the removal of Biddy’s body; my back was still troubling me from my fall a couple of months ago.

Godspeed Biddy.