Counting Sheep

The discordant thump and rattle of a loose board in the deck railing outside the bedroom window woke me from a fitful sleep.

Wind moaning through bare tree branches in the dark beyond my window told the unseen story. I seldom sleep well on a windy night.

Unable to drift back into slumber, I disentangled myself from the limpet snoring softly against my side (Ronni) and slipped out of bed. With a soft groan, Ronni curled into a tight ball and slept on.

A glance at the clock glowing dimly on my bedside table verified the early hour – it was 1:30 am.

My “go to” remedy for a sleepless night is hot cocoa, so I crept quietly down the stairs.

Pausing on the stair landing to rest my aching knee (yes, it’s back to acting up … so much for cortisone injections), my eyes fell on the still half-full bag of raw Cormo fleece I’ve been slowly working my way through.

Hmmm … better than counting sheep!

An hour later, cocoa forgotten, I crawled back into bed, having sorted fleece into two more plastic tubs of individual wool locks, ready to be washed and then drum-carded.

I guess I know what I’ll be doing tomorrow. 🐑🐑